Chapter 17

I started the next morning with a big smile on my face. Last night had been so much fun, laughing and joking with my brother, actually reminiscing about mum without him getting angry at me. I get dressed and rush downstairs, stopping in my tracks as I spot my father waiting for me. I glance upwards hoping to see Damien but there’s no sign of him and I hesitate, wondering if I should call out for help. But it was also possible that Damien had left for school already, in which case, I was on my own anyway.

My father’s beady little eyes rest on me and I flinch, smelling his breath and the beer from here. It’s repulsive,

almost as though he’s bathed in it. I stop on the steps, too frightened to make a move, but to my surprise, my father gives me a smile that instantly makes me suspicious. Why was he suddenly in a good mood? Had he maybe gotten another job already? Normally it took him weeks though. Even then, he never smiled at me. My stomach churns with dread.

“Winter” my father says heartily, and I eye him suspiciously.

“Yes” I say quietly, my feet still firmly rooted to the ground, my body beginning to tremble in fear. Something was.

He was acting too strange for my liking.

“You look pale” he says, and I place a hand on my cheek. It’s true that I’m pale, but then, other than walking to school and back, I don’t really see much sunlight. So being pale was normal for me, not that he’d notice, of course. Or it could be because it felt like all the blood had drained out of my face the second I saw he was home.

He comes closer and I instinctively flinch, raising my arm as though to shield off a hit that I suspect is coming.

Instead, nothing happens and I place my arm back down, to see a wounded expression on my father’s face.

“I wasn’t going to hurt you” he says quietly, and I want so badly to believe him, but nothing on this god-green

what he wants. He’s never acted this civil to me ever and, if anything, I’m even more wary of him than

exhale, cautiously moving one

my heart thudding loudly and quickly in my chest. I wish Damien was here, at least then

smelled his breath,

my surprise, he places his hands on my shoulders and forces

make us some toast” he says jovially “coffee?” he asks, and I’m stunned. Had father had a change of mind and decided he was going to stop abusing me? What

making one up as I stare down at the table. I feel uncomfortable, awkward even. This is the most I’ve ever spoken to him in who knows how long and

me, I inhale deeply, appreciating the strong aroma, giving

a small nibble of mine, feeling emotional. He’d put peanut butter on it but he’d cut it into triangles, the way I’d liked to eat it when mother was still alive.   home. You

Not only that, but I felt fine,

thickly, taking a sip of my coffee “I can’t afford to miss any classes” I add and tense waiting for him to explode. Instead, he just regards me calmly, still drinking, and I pick up my own cup and

father looking slightly fuzzy? I shake my head, putting

afraid the

advise them your sick and won’t be in

do that” I say slowly, my

and my jaw drops

I stare at my father, realizing that he’s laced my drink with some sort of drug. It’s the only explanation I can think of as the room starts to spin

as he comes over to me, my body

me to even trust my father for a moment. I

had he drugged

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