"GET. OUT!"
"All I did was call you out on your actions." I recoiled.
"I don't care! You are in my house, if you don't like it get out!" he spat.
His fist curled into a boulder shape, shaking back and forth, as if threatening he was going to hit. He never did though, so it wasn't a problem. When he was like this, you just had to ignore him. Wait until he cooled down. And then you had to apologise, regardless if you even did anything wrong. As you apologised he would say:
"I was really upset about that" or
"When you act like this it makes me really angry." It was never "I'm sorry", and always your mum telling you: "you have to apologise to your dad", even if it was him chasing you through the house yelling because you had an opinion, or him running into your room and accusing you of being a liar, all because he didn't want to own up to his actions.
This time he was being real though. He actually meant it. Despite his overreactions, I always end up believing I deserve it. The overreactions spark this idea in me that I did something that warranted this reaction, even though deep down I know I didn't, he just can't stand the fact that his daughter will stand up to him and not just smile and wave like one of those penguins in Madagascar. Anyway, I tend to do this when I'm nervous. Over explain, I mean. Babble. Chatter. Ramble. But he really did mean it. Before I knew it, the front door was slammed shut and I was stood on the door step.
Everything suddenly looked so so small, I mean it may have been because Ant Man threw the wrong Pym gadget at a telephone tower right outside my house and now it was three times the size of what it originally was, but it wasn't. It's because I was on my own. I had nowhere safe to live. I mean I did have aunts and uncles I could resort to, but they weren't where I wanted to be. I didn't want to be relying on my parents' family members. I wanted to prove my dad wrong. Show him that I can get by on my own; that I do know what it's like to live in the real world.
It was scary, that I was alone, but it was also satisfying. I took in a deep breath (I have to admit it was heavily displeasing considering the stench of cow shit wafting from the local farm) and realised this is what freedom smelt like. Bittersweet. I was free, but it smelt like shit. Free to do what I wanted to (with the stench of shit).
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Becoming Super
FanfictionYou were recruited by Coulson to join shield, and have now been chosen to be a new agent of shield, which means you sometimes get to go on missions with the avengers. You then become an avenger because Coulson believes you are a valuable asset. Con...
