Belief

3.3

“Give it back!” I yell, tears escaping. “I need my phone!”

“You need to get downstairs and help me load the car.” He points down the stairs, my phone hidden within his grasp.

I glare at him, storming past him and walking down stairs. The next half hour was filled with me loading boxes and trying to contain my tears, my worries. I had the smallest seed of hope telling me I would find a way to say goodbye, but the darkness surrounding me overshadowed and suffocated the seed.

Loading in the last box, my father walked over to me, arms folded tightly across his chest.

“Ready to go?” He stares at me. Taking in my broken expression.

“No,” I frown, bowing my head to wipe away a tear without him seeing.

“You have to accept the fact that this is happening,” he tries to lift up my head, but I jerk out of his reach.

“You can make me go, but you can’t make me be happy,” I snapped, keeping distance between us.

“I’m giving you everything you need!” My father lifts his hands in frustration. “Food, shelter, money, as much clothes as you want, a good education, what else could you possibly want?”

I snickered, shaking my head at his pure ignorance. “What about love dad? Maybe I needed someone to tuck me in at night and kiss my forehead, someone to hug me and tell me everything was going to be alright, someone to shield my ears from you’re fighting. Maybe I needed a real family.”

“Right now the only thing you need is to go get into the car,” My father’s voice was low, looking away from me. He silently excuses himself, walking into the bathroom.

I force myself to walk out to the car, slamming the passenger seat door shut behind me. Resting my head against the window a flash of pink catches my eye from my father’s open bag. I sit up quickly, glancing towards the house to make sure he is still inside. Grabbing my phone quickly, I stare at the time. 7:03.

I dial up the only person I haven’t tried yet; Grace. The phone rings until it hits voicemail, my throat closing up. My phone sits on my lap, useless. Just as I was about to put it back in my father’s bag it began to ring. I yelp, answering it quickly.

“Maddie?” Grace’s hushed morning voice came over the receiver. I was breathing heavily, hiccupping to keep the tears away. “Is everything okay?”

“No, it’s not, I’m freaking out, my flight got changed and I leave in an hour and I can’t reach any of the guys and I’m so scared Grace. I’m so scared,” My voice went from a frightened ramble to a broken whisper. I was unable to hide my quiet sobs from her.

“It’s okay, calm down,” She breathes, pleading me to stay calm. We both knew that was impossible. We both knew what was on the line here. “I will take care of the boys, just delay for as long as you can.”