Wherever You Wander h.s. (daddy addition)

prolouge

I banged and pushed on Connor's chest. "Goddamn, Connor! Why do you do this to me? Why do you keep leading me on? Just to reject me, right?" I was fed up with this boy. Time and time again, he'd call me beautiful, he'd always compliment me on my eyes, my hair, my style, and even my personality. He'd even tell me he'd date me and that he loved me. Of coarse I knew he was kidding, at least from the mixed vibes I was thrown it just couldn't be true. It was cute, our relationship, almost friends, almost more, from what I thought. But I'm sure if you asked he'd tell you a completely different story.

I had to admit, when he'd 'make moves' he left me thinking, what happens if he does cut the last string? Would we still be those playful, careless friends we'd always been? He knew things, knew things no one else knew. I thought we'd advance eventually, but nothing, it was always this sort of in between thing, and all because I didn't reach his dumb standards.

Of coarse I was alright with his shit up until the beginning of sophomore year, that's when it all went down. My dad... he'd been shot. Died on the scene. Of course, it was my fault. I was the one who'd wanted to go to that damned concert in the first place. "Milwaukee... Ed Sheeran... Brewer Stadium... Adam Avery..." I remembered it ever so clearly. It was happening again. "You could fix this." My breathing went ragged. "You c-could fix thi-this." My body noticeably tenses up and it was suddenly very hot in the room as I buckled over. Man, the conditions made me feel as if I was in sauna so hot, you think it belonged to the sun itself. "You could fix this!"

As my blurred eyes fought to see, people were now staring due to the screeches admitting from my dry, scratchy throat. I hated this. I had never needed the support of a male like this before. "Mrs. O'Riley! it's happening again." Yes, this has happened before. I was wise enough to know that from here on there was no telling what I'd do. I was seeing red, felt sick to my stomach, and tears were uncontrollably pouring from my eyes.

"Nurse, we need the nurse!" I was flashing in and out of consciousness. Then suddenly, it was no longer Connor in front of me, talking. All around me was a blur. I had no perception of my surroundings. I'd never seen such a case, but I wouldn't necessarily take the time to rule it out.

"Call her mom. We're calling an ambulance." What's happening? My thoughts were a blur. Where am I?

"Dad! No!" I was sure I was dreaming now. This wasn't reality, this had already happened. All of the sudden those same gun shots sound off everywhere making my ears pop. I'm back at the shooting, just like that. I'm reliving my worst nightmare and it was certainly not a good feeling. I see it all, that man; Adam Avery in the flesh. Not dead, as alive as, well, a not dead person can be. I'm quick to move. I pounce at the large, smelly man reaching instantly for his medium sized hand gun. "YOU SHOT MY DAD!" He was obviously surprised, and with surprise comes late reactions. And before I know it, he's on the floor, in a mass of red liquid. Then I look down at my hands and am astonished by what I find my shaky hands barely gripping on to. The sweaty piece of cold black metal. Who am I?

I remember that day, the day I shot a man.

Next thing I know, I wake up to the annoying beep of a heart monitor and the excruciating pain of head trauma. The sun ray immediately is drawn to the slight opening of my eyelids, which was expected, but at the same time, not. I groan a bit when I achingly reach up to feel the back of my head where the source of pain was located at.

Definable stitches line the back of my head surrounded by a shortened patch of hair. I must have hit my head pretty hard. The pain continues to throb throughout my head, and at that moment, I wonder what happened. I hadn't remembered a thing besides that horrid nightmare of mine. I decide the next best thing I can do to take my mind from the soreness roaming my head, is to survey my surrounding. So I try and figure out what's going on, all I know at the moment is, I'm in a hospital.

First thing I see is a tall man slouching in one of the chairs seeking entertainment in whatever's on the screen of his iPhone nineteen I believe. First thing I wonder is, "Who are you?" and I say it in the most innocent voice I can muster causing the tattooed man to look up and even gasp a little. "You're a doctor?" I guess dumbly.

"Y-yes," He stutters a bit, but not very noticeably because he clears his throat almost straightaway. What tells me he's lying though is the way he not-so-subtly reaches up to scratch the back of his neck. "that's what I am." Now he's avoiding eye contact which is a dead give away.

"No you aren't." I chuckle slightly at his flustered self. Its funny, because you wouldn't imagine someone like him lacking self confidence. "You're lying straight through you teeth, you....

He looks at me as if I've caught him, because clearly... I have. "I-I can explain," Sure he can. Then, just like that, he makes a beeline straight for the door. "Ronnie! She's awake. Shit, shit, shit."

The door bursts open, my mother's saddened face being the first thing I see. Me and my mother haven't always been the closest, but I'd like to think, deep down, somewhere she loves me. She has to at least care for me, after all, I am her daughter. Her eyes are taken from me momentarily and glue to the tall man in a menacing manner. it's almost like she telling him to leave, but before that can happen I have to ask, "Who is he?"

I trade looks at the latter other. The man, mom, the man, then mom again, but when my eyes draw back to the man his eyes are glued to my mom... no. I look away with a huff hoping I won't let myself down by crying. "Sweetie I..."

A/n: I'm thinking of publishing on either my birthday (which is Christmas) or New Years at the tick of the clock.