Pinky Promise [ 𝕸𝖎𝖈𝖍𝖆𝖊𝖑 𝕷𝖆𝖓𝖌𝖉𝖔𝖓 ]

7. 𝔎𝔞𝔱𝔥𝔢𝔯𝔦𝔫𝔢

People would probably look strangely at me for claiming that I hated it here. But it was the complete and honest truth. This house was completely nuts from itself and then there were my brother and my grandma, both slowly loosing it as they went on. So here I was, all by myself in my room, contemplating to just jump out the window to feel less alone; to wander with the spirits and feel better about myself.

   What was I yammering about? Why in the world would I feel better being dead? I knew that that was not going to relieve any pain. I would only wander the Murder House, and I would wander it with spirits that despise me for whose sister I was. Why did it have to be me who was stuck in the middle of it all? Why could I just not be a plain, simple girl living in a normal house with a normal family.

   And there he was, sitting in the chair in the corner of my room. I don't know he suddenly appeared there, but from the looks of it he was sitting there against his will. I had never seen him before; only heard his voice when he was begging for Violet to answer him. I wonder what he wants from me.

   ''He will never be the darling my mother paints you to be,'' Tate Langdon crossed his arms as he peered at me, his daughter, from right where he was sitting. ''That is the deal with this family, Katherine. We are not the picture perfect family you think we could have been. It is just not meant to be.''

   ''You're Tate,'' I exclaim. ''You did many bad things.''

   ''We all do,'' he exhaled. ''Sooner or later, you will too. What did you expect, that they'd just leave you out of the picture? No, Katherine.''

   ''You're my dad,'' I continued, not giving up. ''I am not stupid. I know the family tree.''

   ''Congratulations,'' Tate scoffed. ''You've figured it out.''

   ''Just because you dislike Michael doesn't mean you have to dislike me,'' I got up in protest. ''I am still your daughter. For as far as I know, I have done nothing wrong to you. Yes, I may be born out of a mistake that you've made, but I still need my dad.''

   ''Me? A dad?'' Tate sat up and leaned over. ''I could never be your dad, even if I wanted to. I am dead, and so is your mother.''

   It is painful how much the truth hurts sometimes, and it being told to you can hurt even more. I wiped the wetness from my eyes and crossed my arms.

   ''You know, Katherine,'' Tate continued. ''Of course I want to be a dad. I had all of that planned ahead; all of it right in front of me. But so many things happened. So many unforgivable things. If none of that happened, you would have never been born.''

   ''Is that a bad thing?'' I insisted. ''Would you still be happy to be my dad if Violet was my mom?''

   Tate grew silent. He dodged my gaze and leaned back in the chair. I knew I stepped on his toes somewhere there but I did not care.

   ''I was stupid,'' he looked down. ''I hurt your mother while...while I was under the influence of something evil. Sooner or later, you will want that evil to be your father more than me.''

   ''Dad,'' I repeated, trying to push the thought. ''No matter what path Michael will go on; I will not. I am not like him. I do not want Satan, the evil that you call him, to be my dad. I am sorry, okay?''

   ''Katherine,'' Tate sighed. ''You will always be the daughter of Satan.''

   Within the blink of an eye, the chair in the corner of my room was empty. I blinked for a few seconds, thinking that I might have hallucinated it. Yet at the same time it felt nice to talk to my father for once. My real father. I do not care who my brother thinks our father is; how strong we could become if we joined by his side. My father was right here, in the Murder House. And though dead, he was still right here.