Fragile(NOT COMPLETED, UNDER REVISION, PLZ DONT READ RN)

Chapter 8

    I slip out of my room, quietly making it down the steps and into the kitchen in search of something to eat. My stomach was rumbling, making me unable to sleep. My hands touch the top of the island, slightly peering over the fruit bowl that rests on top of it. There were two bananas, an apple, and a couple oranges. I move over to the fridge, opening it and checking whats inside. Theres barely anything inside, which reminds me that I need to go grocery shopping. Maybe later tomorrow.

    I grab the milk out of the fridge, and then grab the cereal box filled with lucky charms in the bottom cabinet and a bowl. I pour out the cereal, spilling some on the floor. When Ive assembled my little bowl of cereal, I clean up and make my way to the table to sit down and eat. My dad hasn't come home yet, but he always comes home late on Fridays. It was probably eleven in the night right now, and it makes me wonder what every one else is doing right now with their Friday night.

    Are they partying and drinking? Are they just at home doing nothing?

    These thoughts continue to float around in my head as I munch on my cereal. After finishing, I slump down and let out a deep breath.

    For the next couple hours I sit around the house in numerous places. At one point I take out my laptop and play music so Im not that bored. My feet tap against the floor to a David Guetta song as I scroll down my news feed on Facebook. Its pretty obvious my account isn't really me. Just a fake name and a picture of puppy for the profile picture, which surprisingly people don't seem to care about when they accept my friend requests. Evidently they aren't my friends, but I need to be entertained by something or else Ill go mad in this house by myself.

    Just out of curiosity, I click on the  search bar and type in a name.

    Logan Hunter.

    His profile pops up and I click on his pictures. There are a couple selfies which are oddly centered, taken from the worst angles ever. Then are some which, Ill admit, he does look nice in. He's not ugly. I click the arrow and come upon a party picture. His arm is draped around a red head dressed in a short white dress. There are other people in the same picture too. Some have their tongues out, others are throwing up peace signs and whatnot. I glance at Logan again, inspecting the picture more closely. His green eyes shine brightly, and his black t-shirt comes off a bit transparent showing off his muscles. He's smiling, showing off his straight teeth. His hair is all over the place, falling over his forehead but in a way kind of works for him.

    I hear the front door open and slam. I hastily close my laptop, jumping up from the couch. Footsteps sound through the hallway and then stop. Probably went into the bathroom. I take my chance, tiptoeing as quietly as I can up the stairs and into my room. I place my laptop gently down on my desk, before sprinting across my room and into my bed.

    Slowing down the pace of my breathing my ears twitch at the sound of him approaching. I turn on my side, slipping my hand under my pillows and shutting my eyes tight.

"Please, please don't come in here." I whisper to no one.

    My heart clenches in my chest as I imagine what will happen if he does. He didn't do anything last night. Please let it be the same as last night. My silent wishing is interrupted by a loud banging.

"Grace!" His slurred voice drawls out.

    Oh god. He's drunk.

"Open  the god damn door!" He shouts, twisting the door knob. He bangs a couple more times before finally stopping.