Chapter 32 - flashback

2K 47 0
                                    

Melissa

A few years ago

My eyes were locked on the television, in a failed attempt to understand what could possibly be so interesting about watching twenty-two dudes run after a ball. I seriously don't get why they continuously watch this crap.

- What are you doing still standing there, go get us another beer! -My dad growled. As I turned around, I instantly rolled my eyes annoyed, knowing I'll never get used to the way my sweet father talks to me.

I paced inside the kitchen and approached the fridge, swinging it open and fetching three bottles of beer between my fingers.

All I wanted to do was collapse into a heap on my bed and dive-bomb into a chocolate chip ice-cream I'd been saving up in the freezer. I swear it has been calling my name.

But instead, I have to keep bowing my heads to this nut heads. After removing the caps off the beers, I handed them over to the three men sitting sluggishly in front of the television.

- Thank you sweetheart. - Mark said, blatantly traveling his eyes up and down my figure, not even bothered by my dad's presence. Who was to busy watching whatever was happening on the tele screen to actually notice this man's boldness.

I decided to keep my gaze off him, since I couldn't bare to look his way, because if we happened to make eye contact, I might vomit.

Disgust. Total disgust.

Without saying anything in response, I simply made my back to the kitchen, where my mum also was, stirring something that smelled delicious in a pan.

- Do they seriously have to come here everyday? - I asked, starting to dry the dishes.

- If your dad wants that, then yes. - she answered with a forced smile. Note to self, never have to depend on any man, ever. If this is marriage and the so famous "falling in love", then I would rather die alone.

- GOALLLL! - they all suddenly screamed loudly. I cussed under my breath, hoping they didn't wake Clary up, did my father even remember he had a toddler upstairs.

- Real Madrid is definitely winning the league. - one of them added cockly.

- I'm gonna check on your sister. Can you keep an eye on this? - My mother asked with a tired expression. She proceeds to close the pan, and untangle the knot of her apron. Then takes it off. - Please don't let our dinner burn. -

- I'll try. - I answer giglish, while winking. She chuckles before leaving me entirely alone in the kitchen.

My life is no fairytale, but I wouldn't refer to it as an nightmare either, sure there are moments where I wish I could simply disappear and get away from all of this, but those thoughts soon mean nothing once I realize I have an incredible mother and an adorable sister who are absolutely everything to me.

The only problem I have is my father, almost every night I lay in my bed listening to the sound of fighting.

My drunk father would begin laying into her and the screaming would start. She cried, he seethed, and I wrapped my arms tightly around my little sister. I would think to myself how when my mother left, we would leave with her, flee the violence. But I've realized that's far from reality.

- What are you doing Mel - I twisted my neck in the direction of the voice, it was a wonder it didn't break. Standing just a few feet away from me was Mark

- Don't call me Mel.- Only my mum and sister call me that, the last thing I want is for him to ruin that nickname for me. God even his voice makes me sick to my stomach.

The Precious Nanny | Cristiano RonaldoWhere stories live. Discover now