• A cool gust from the air conditioner brushed her cheeks as she scrubbed hard at the tiles on the kitchen floor. She would finish making a tile sparkling clean but by the time she got to the next one it was smudged from her fingerprints again. She sighed, frustrated. He would be mad. She winced as she imagined his short, grubby little fingers curling into fists as his face turned shades of crimson.


    She'd only just met him. Although, at this point in time she couldn't ever really call him father sincerely. He wasn't father to her. He was a stranger and she wished desperately that he was disappear like he had 17 years ago. The picture of a happy family of three had vanished within the first day of laying eyes on him. That was never going to happen. She could see something in his eyes; something was off.

    His eyes never showed any emotion in the slightest. It was almost as if he was disconnected somewhere. Something in him was shut off. He lacked the mentality of a sane man and that. Was horrifying.
    Just by watching the two of them fight she knew he had treated her the same. Could such a man even love? She had no evidence to support that.

    She had been washing down the house for the entire day and her head swam from the chemicals and lack of sleep. Hunger pains clenched her stomach and she slumped her back against the counter, letting her weary eyelashes droop.

    There was a scream, cursing, and she jumped slightly at the sound of glass shattering. She lost her balance and tipped sideways, shuffling to pick up the tub of water she had knocked over.

    He had rode the train and now it was time for him to depart to a destination he had no intention of getting to. And he was pulsing with fury.