Forever Always Ends(unfinished)

13 || as fast as you can

* unedited

We were both seated on the living room couch, watching television and eating the little packaged brownies that Mitch had somehow found in the pantry.

By the time I had taken the brownies out of the oven, that charred smell had told us that they were long past done.

We finally relinquished and I ended up tossing the pan away because neither of us could wedge the brownies out of it.

"I'm kinda glad you burnt them, otherwise I wouldn't have found these." Mitch grinned and split his little cosmic brownie down the middle.

"Me too," I laughed, taking a bite of my own.

These things were basically my childhood -- I remember how I had used to make the little rainbow chocolate chips equal on each half before eating it.

"Anyways," Mitch crumpled the plastic wrapper up in his hands, "Do you know what you want for your birthday?"

My eyebrows furrowed in confusion before I brought a hand up to my forehead in remembrance. "I have no idea." I admitted with a shrug.

"You better find out soon, it's only in a week," he stated, and I nodded.

"I should get going, it's--" Mitch glanced down to his phone, "6:00. Gotta be home for dinner." he got up from the couch and I did as well.

I followed him to the door, where he said goodbye with a quick hug.

"Text me when you figure out what you want," he called before getting into his car. I smiled, waved, and finally closed the door once he pulled out of the driveway.

Just as I sat back down on the couch, I heard the lock on the front door click. My eyes widened when the sound of the front door creaking open added in as well.

Following that was a deep, unfamiliar laugh, and footsteps entering. My heart skipped a beat and I reached for the nearest object, which happened to be the television remote.

I gripped it in my hand and my eyes glued in the direction of the front door. If they turned the corner, they would see me, and --

"Piper, are you home?" my father's slurred voice tuned out the eerie suspense and my shoulders tensed.

"Over here," I called reluctantly just as he came into the room.

But he wasn't by himself. A tall, slightly muscular man trailed behind, looking about the same age my father.

"Go to your room," my father mumbled, shooting me a glare. The whites in his eyes were tinted red and only intimated his drunkenness.

"Who is that?" I gestured to the man standing behind him, who was gazing around the house lazily. His tall figure swayed as he stood. He had obviously had too much to drink as well.

My father took a step closer, right up in front of me. I looked up from my seat on the couch to meet his eyes stubbornly.

The strong alcohol adulterating his breath fanned my face and I refrained from covering my nose. He narrowed his eyes.

"I said, go to your room," he repeated, pointing a shaky finger at my face.

Never disconnecting the eye contact, I slowly rose from the couch.

"You drove home drunk, didn't you?" my voice wavered with suspicion, causing my father to glare at me once more.

"That's none of your business, now listen to me or you'll regret it." his voice dropped low enough for only me to hear.