Playing With Fire

Chapter Seven

All chapters previous this point have been edited. 

From here on out, the chapters are going to be different from what was originally written. I was debating whether or not to simply change the gramatical errors or to change everything. 

I decided the latter. 

I might as well, considering my original plot doesn't interest me as much anymore. 

This one is MUCH more interest and has a lot more father daughter involved. I realized my mistakes by rereading it and I've also corrected character flaws to make them more realistic. 

With this said, please give me feed back and votes. 

Chapter eight will be posted tomorrow. 

Thank you for reading. 

VOMMENT. 

xxSummerxx

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                                        Chapter Seven

“Faye!”

Just as I shut the front door closed, I hear dad’s footsteps patter closer to where I am standing. I repress a repulsive curse word as he approaches me, and I attempt to zip my jacket up past my neck to hide whatever marks were left there.

“Hey dad,” I say, folding my cut sleeve arms across my chest.

“Hey?” He remarks, turning the light switch in the kitchen on so he could get a better look at me.

To my disappointment, he’s quite displeased. The usual smile on his face has dimmed down into a straight, pursed line. His eyes are lit into a frown and his arms are in the same position as mine.

I didn’t have the strength in me to fight back, nor the confidence, so I simply stared up at him wordlessly. In my mind, I was begging him to turn that frown upside down. I didn’t want him upset me this short time we’ve been here.

“It’s almost ten.” He states, looking up at the clock above my head.

I nod my head and look down, “Sorry, I was out with Ashley and I lost track of time.”

I hear him sigh and I look up to see whether he’s angrier by my words. Only, he is more confused than angry now.

I sweep a hand across my cheek, throwing some loose strands of hair out of my face in the process. It’s only when I catch him eyeing my wrist that I realize what mistake I’ve made.

            Immediately, my hand shoots down and I fold them back again.

            He looks up at me with suspicious eyes, “What happened to your hand?”

            I feel my face turn hot, but I try to play it off, knowing if I falter, he’ll know something happened.

            “I almost walked into a pole today but Ashley snatched my hand before I could.” I state.

            He shakes his head and puts his hand out, “Let me see.”

            “Dad, really it’s fine—“

            “—Let me see.” He interrupts, unfazed.

            Despite my pounding heart, I can’t help but feel a sense of dejavu when he keeps repeating ‘let me see’. I only get drifted away in my thoughts momentarily until dad gives me an expectant look.