He Stayed|

♧2

Chapter two:

"Isabelle!!!" my step father deep voice once again rings at the back of my head. Well I guess I can't keep ignoring him.

But I was really really good at this.

"Arggh" I groan as I climb my way out of bed and resume to walk towards the door.

I stop dead in my tracks contemplating whether I should or shouldn't answer him.

As I hold the doorknob about to turn it as a few thoughts flash through my head.

Point #1: Should I really answer him?

Point #2: I could pretend to be asleep?

Point #3: Maybe I can just run away, then never come back?

Point #4:  It's pointless I have to go!

I quickly play out the argument in my head and guess what point #4 won.

I couldn't ignore it and even if I did it wouldn't end up well.

I turn the door knob and walk out of my room.

I trudge my way down the stairs already regretting my decision to answer 'him'.

As I reach the parlor , different memories play through mind.

Memories I would pay to forget. Memories that I wish I never remembered.

'Arbear stop running you'll get sick or worse daddy might cry', my father warned and he chased my young self down the stairs.

"But I want duddy to chase me, puhwease duddy", I whined, I was having so much fun and dad couldn't catch me.

I giggle loudly being lifted up in the air, and then wrapped in the warm embrace of my father.

"Duddy cwaught me" I sigh disappointed I wasn't able to run fast enough.

"Yes he did, but only because he wants to take us all out on a family trip to get ice cream".

"Yay" I squeal in delight.

I am quickly snapped out from my daze and I reach the bottom stairs. My feet touching my school bag.

A tear drop escapes my traitorous eyes and lands on my foot. I wipe my eyes and compose myself.

I walk through the passage door into the living where he is.

"What" I spit at him with venom laced in my voice.

He must be in a good mood because usually he would react in a much worse way.

I sit myself on one of the sofas and lean forward listening to what he has to say.

No reply.

He calls me down here and he isn't even replying me.

I look up noticing that he is on his phone. I roll my eyes, resting my back on the sofa.

"Yes?" I answer this time with a blank face, plopping my self over to one of the near by couches.

He looks up from his phone, adjusting his black tie on his business attire.

He clears his throat, putting his phone in the hidden pocket of his black uniform blazer.

He looks at me, disapprovingly, and shakes his head.

His cold marble green eyes, staring at me with nothing short of disgust, hatred and dislike.