Expectationally Rebellious

Chapter 2: The agony of Gracie Hunter

"What's your favourite scary movie?"
Grace grinned as the iconic one-liner rang through her tanned ears, which were raised in delight. Her body slowly slid into a snuggled position, curling up like a cat. Her organs of sight darted across the screen as they apprehended the pictures before her eyes, the iris penetrating any onlooker to attempt to see beyond the tremendously vast plantation in her own orbs.

The film uneasily proliferated the tension, causing her to shriek. She glanced at the screen, only to observe that it was just a notification. She continued to watch her movie, only to be interrupted by the booming unbolting of her door. She whipped her head up to see her father standing in the doorway, his silhouette imitating a criminal, her yelp attracting him from halfway across the house.

"What are you doing?" He seemed to carefully say each word, while using every last ounce of his breath to speak them, resulting in Gracie to slowly put the phone down.

"I'm watching a movie, dad!" She exclaimed, a slight quiver of worry noticeable in her voice.

"Are you watching horror?" He interrogated. She seemed to realise that the smaller queries her father asked, the more terrifyingly mad he would be.
Gracie vaguely nodded her head, her parched, curls somewhat adapting to fit the mood; toneless and melancholic.

Mr Hunter slowly yet painfully lingered towards Gracie, before reaching his hand out. Gracie was panic-stricken yet distressed, her chocolate eyebrows raised to form crinkles and folds in her fore-head. Hey eyes changed dramatically- from bright and engaged to uneasily petrified. Her pupils grew smaller as her dad sprung his hand forward like a lion pouncing on its prey.

He seized the device from within her hands and brought it to himself. The mere image of Ghostface brought pure rage to his eyes; a tsunami of anger bubbling inside of him, seeming to make his orbs glow a fiery red. The veins in his muscly arms popped out as he arranged them.

CRACK!

The phone lay on the ground in two seperate pieces, microchips sticking out, defeat and gone forever.
Tears stung Gracie's eyes as she could not believe what she had just witnessed. She glared at her dad as he grinned evilly, before withdrawing from her room.

She planted her face in her pillow, a waterfall roughly cascading out of her glaucous eyes. "What does my f***ing dad have against horror?!" She thought, not risking to say it out loud, as she was still petrified that he stood next to her door, patiently waiting to strike again.

Gracie reluctantly got up and picked through the broken pieces of her once working phone, like a hen picking though bird seeds. She threw it across the room, wailing in agony.

Gracie then got up, mopped up all of the tears that flooded her countenance, whilst grabbing a cord and shoving it into a large box. She picked up her instrument, plucking the strings to calm her down. Her pic was given to her by her best friend when they first met, and had her initials etched in it; "M.H" (Maryanne Hail).

She then smirked as she shut the door and began aggressively strumming the strings to a tune her ears danced to. In minutes she was joyously leaping across the room while strumming and bobbing her head back and forth. When she played this song, she could forget about the rest of the world for a few minutes and just be herself. She sang along, too, not a care in the world for how bad she sounded.

Tears of joy flicked across the room as she resumed slamming her head back and forth. 'The Strokes' were one of her favourite bands of all of time, and she knew almost every one of their songs. She giggled and snorted, euphoria  filling up in her orbs so quickly she completely forget about the death of her phone. The song ended and she flopped onto her chair, her skin drenched in sweat, but still laughing.

She laid her head back and shut her eyelids to enjoy the moment, unfortunately not noticing her parents staring at her through the crack of her door.

"Gracie?" She flicked her eyes open and stood up in a split-second, ready to fight off anything that dared to strike. Living with her parents really impacted her.

"Huh?" was all she managed to get out.
"Well, we heard you playing guitar.." her mother began, turning to her father to finish her thought.
"We heard you playing that s*** song, and you better not play it again. Why do you have to play those songs? Why can't you play something we all enjoy, instead of some lousy rock music?" Gracie was shocked and insanely offended by her father's remark. She stood up, ready to punch their sorry faces. However, something held her back.

"Okay," she forced out, while faking a smile.
"Goodnight, I'm going to bed."

Her parents exchanged curious glances, because of their daughter's sudden change of attitude.
"Great, we'll see you in the morning!" They both left her room without another word.

Gracie closed her door and huddled in the covers of her bed, shivering yet sweating at the same time. She began crying again, her mood drastically shifting yet again.
RIIIPP
Her heart stopped for a few seconds as she investigated the strange noise, coming from her desk.
"Well great," she thought, "Now my house is haunted, too." Her parents would never believe her. In fact, she couldn't wait to go to school tomorrow, finally escaping from her parents' grasp.

Eventually, she couldn't keep it in. She let sobbing noises reverberate through out her room, filling the eerie silence. Her eyes aches from weeping and her body rested into place. Her whimpers died down until all but her peaceful breathing was heard.

A/N
How did you like this chapter? If you have any suggestions or thoughts let me know in the comments! All of your votes are appreciated so much. The song at the beginning is 'Hard To Explain' by The Strokes, if anyone was wondering. Thanks all for reading, and stay tuned for more👋✌️