Faded Fear || Jonathan Crane (ON HOLD)

009 - On The Tiled Floor

"Lilli, you've got to try this," my sister, Daria, says. We are making donuts. Any kind of sweet pastry, really. This included cookies, pie, cake, and brownies.  She brings the desert to my mouth and I eat it, enjoying the taste.

David, our father, - if you'd call him that - isn't here at the moment, and we are happy. With very little we have, we manage. But David's check had just come in. He hasn't been home since three days ago. I wasn't worried, he could take care of himself. I honestly wouldn't miss him if he had something happen to him.

"Maybe add a bit more cinnamon?" I suggest. As the oldest, I always have to cook and clean, but baking is always my favorite. My two siblings had only been the reason why I do this. I knew David wouldn't take care of them.

When our mother passed, things seemed to change for the worst. David soon turned to alcohol and dealt with the wrong people. I tried my best not to get involved. But he would come back home some nights, not even knowing how to stand up right. He'd throw tantrums at the smallest things, slurring all his words, barely forming a proper sentence. He sold all our good things we had, and we had a lot, for his addictions. The only thing nice we had was our clothes, the TV, and the things that remind us of our mother. He made our financial worse than it already was.

Our mother had always been a happy person and very beautiful, but after being diagnosed with cancer it seemed as if she had stopped trying with life - like she knew she was going to die. It broke our hearts that she was the one who lost hope. It was hard to stay strong when our mother wasn't. I was the last one to see her and I felt my heart stop and stomach drop when the heart monitor went crazy. Doctors and nurses ran in and told me to leave. I was crying and I could hear David yelling to the doctors. After he couldn't find a way to see his wife one last time, he blamed the death on me. Like I had caused the cancer, or stopped the machines that helped her live. If possible, I would gladly give my life for hers. How could he blame me, his daughter, for her death? I wanted to disappear. His mental abuse ended up making me believe it was my fault for a long time until I finally stood up to him. He wasn't the caring and helpful dad that was married to his highschool sweetheart, he was an abusive - in all ways, verbal, emotionally, and physical - and an alcoholic man. He wasn't even considered a father to me anymore, or any of us. I barely ever called him dad again.

"I'm thinking maybe more baking powder," Nathan, says. Nathan is the best cook, but never really did it often. With him being the second oldest, he took the liberty of fixing things within the house. Daria had nothing to deal with, in this house, and that was okay with us. Nathan and I take care of her while I take care of both of them. I was fine that they had nothing to worry about when I'm with them.

In the kitchen, music is playing from a small radio we saved up for and we are all smiling and laughing. We are always happy when we have each others company. We've helped each other a lot, with any problems. School and all.

"Alright, can we - "

Daria is interrupted by the sound of our front door crashing open. She jumps at the sudden shaking, and Nathan almost jumps up from his chair. I had thought it was David but the door didn't slam shut afterwards like it always does. He'd usually shut it as loudly when he walked in. But no door slammed, instead I hear the sounds of glass breaking and things smashing. I look at my younger siblings, they had the same expression I had; fear and curiosity.

"What - " I began but I hear the voice of men. Three different voices, three different tones. I guessed the one with the deeper voice was more built than the others. But I could be wrong.

They suddenly push themselves into the kitchen, noticing us and then they pointed their weapons towards us. They start asking us questions about David, to which we didn't have answers to. Daria starts crying and Nathan looked as if he would too. I start shaking uncontrollably, out of fear and anger. Fear from being held at gunpoint and anger towards my father and these men.