Chapter 9
"Alcoholic Father"
Sang Sorenson
"What's a ghost bird?" I asked, my eyebrows furrowed in confusion. Was this some type of normal people slang I've never heard of before?
Suddenly, the front door downstairs slammed shut. All of us froze, listening as heavy footsteps sounded on the ground floor. When I realized they were heading up the steps, I jumped up.
"You have to go, hide!" I whispered quickly to the three men.
Nathan, Luke, and Axel rushed over to the attic space and shuffled inside, closing the door behind them. I went to my closet and acted as if I was picking out clothes to change into when my bedroom door went flying open. I glanced over my shoulder and saw my father in the doorway, scanning the room before he found me with a spare shirt in my hands.
"I thought I told you to stay in the attic space," He grumbled, his words slurring slightly.
Shocked, I realized my father had been drinking. His clothes were in disarray, his tie loosened around his neck. This wouldn't go well, I could already tell. My father hasn't gotten drunk in two years, but when he did...
I cleared my throat nervously. "I was just going to change out of these clothes before going back in."
"You shouldn't be out," Father scoffed, rubbing his face tiredly.
"I'll go back in after I change," I tried to reassure him. "I thought you were supposed to be at work."
When the words left my lips, I knew immediately it was a mistake. My father's face contorted into one of frustration and anger.
"I was," He grunted. "But they sent me back home. Thought I needed more fucking time to mourn for my dead wife."
I stayed still, worried he would explode if I moved even an inch.
"As if I need to fucking mourn her," Father laughed harshly, stumbling into my room. "She was already dead to me. Now, she really is dead and I couldn't be happier about it."
Suddenly, his eyes landed back onto me and I felt a shiver flood my spine.
"But you..." Father lifted his hand, pointing his finger at me. "You have been a pain in my ass since the day you were born. You have caused me nothing but pain and misery, Sang. What you did to Diane has caused more trouble than you're fucking worth!"
I felt the sting of tears erupt in my eyes, but swallowed them back. Crying would do me no good right now.
"I'm sorry," I whispered, lowering my eyes to the floor. "I didn't mean--"
"You don't even have to try! You just do it, Sang!" Father bellowed at me. "I'm tired of having to keep you around. Things would have been better if you were never born. Goddammit, I was happy then!"
I winced, holding the shirt against my chest as if it was a shield, as if it could protect me from my father's hateful words.
"Now, I have to worry about the police finding out about you while they investigate Diane's murder!" Father sneered, pounding his fist on top of my desk. "If they find out what happened that night, you are dead! Do you hear me? If one person sees you, if you talk to anyone, I will kill you!"
He stalked over to me and grabbed my hair at the back of my head. I gave a cry at the abrupt motion as he tugged me closer to him. I dropped the shirt and lifted my hand to where he was holding me.
"Don't think I won't do it, bitch," Father scowled before pulling me forward and throwing me onto the floor.
I grunted as I landed on my bad shoulder, irritating the stitched bullet hole.
"There would be no greater joy than killing you with my bare hands," Father roared, shoving my bookshelf. It tilted to the side and fell, landing right in front of the attic door.
He marched over to me and gave me a swift kick to my stomach. I yelped, curling into a ball to protect myself.
"Shut up!" Father yelled. "Shut. The. Hell. Up." With each word, he delivered a kick to my torso. I let out a sharp scream when I felt something crack in my chest. He stopped for a moment, catching his breath. From the corner of my eye, I saw the attic door open slightly, but the bookshelf had landed in a way that it wouldn't budge past the corner of the wall. Nathan, Luke, and Axel were stuck inside.
I groaned at the ache filling my body, wheezing weakly at the pain in my lungs. Father huffed and grabbed my arm, hauling me up to my knees. I looked up at him in time to see his hand come crashing towards my face, slapping across my cheek.
"You worthless child!" He shouted, spit flying onto my face. "If not for the promise I made your mother, I would have left you on the street to fucking die!"
"Father, please," I whimpered, wanting to stop him from hitting me. Why did I always get hurt?
"Shut up!" He backhanded me this time, causing my bottom lip to split. Blood seeped into my mouth and I choked on the foul, metallic taste. "I don't care if you're my fucking daughter! I'll beat you to death if you say another fucking word!"
At that moment, the doorbell rang. Father paused, blinking his eyes wildly. He seemed to come out of his drunken state enough to realize what the sound was. With the hand still clasping onto my arm, he pulled me onto my feet and lead me downstairs. Instead of going to the front door, he directed me into his room he used to share with my stepmother.
He opened the closet and pushed me inside. I fell onto my side, thankfully not the one with the bad shoulder this time. Father shut the door behind me and I could hear the lock turn before his footsteps walked out of the bedroom. I wrapped my arms around my waist, clutching my sore stomach.
Whoever had pushed the doorbell had my love and gratitude. They had saved me from my alcoholic father.
YOU ARE READING
Death Row {GB&SB} {O.H}
Fanfiction{On Hold} Sang Sorenson is a ghost. She doesn't exist, at least not legally. Although, Sang's family wishes that she was a ghost, that she was never born in the first place. Little did they know that Sang wished that as well. Then, one night, somet...
