FicWad

Father Knows[//]
I slept well into morning, waking up a few minutes before noon. My eyes settled on my window first after opening them. I stared out of the window; it was still snowing. I sighed to myself and rolled onto my back, my blankets forming a warm cacoon around me.

I didn't want to get out of bed. I didn't have the strength or will. I just didn't feel like it. I didn't want to have to go downstairs and face everyone; I didn't want to have to face the world. How could I and who could possibly blame me?

Seeking any comfort made me uneasy. I felt as if anyone who treated me nicely would make me feel dirtier than I already felt. I wanted someone to hug me, but at the same time I didn't. I don't know how I could manage physical contact. But I seemed fine with Gerard, which I didn't really understand.

I almost wished for a split second that his arms were around me, bringing comfort and willing all the bad away.

I sighed, running a hand through my messy bed hair. I couldn't stay in bed forever. I had to eventually face everyone.

I got out of bed, met with the cold as my feet touched the floor. I almost jumped right back into bed. I go to the bathroom to brush my teeth and wash my face, coming back to my room to look through my closet. I tossed my pajamas off and throw on some skinny jeans, a shirt, and hoodie on. I pulled my fuzzy socks on and pulled my hair into a messy ponytail.

I looked in the mirror and groaned to myself. The side of my face was a sickly purple and yellow in a fww spots. I shivered to myself, trying to push the dark thoughts out of my mind. I took some foundation and concealer to cover up the bruises and blend in with skin. I pulled back to look at; it was a bit better. I exhaled and left my bedroom.

I walked down the stairs slowly, each step creaking under my body. I could hear the T.V. on, and by the sound of it was cartoons. I walked into the living room to see Cassie and Jack sitting on the couch, glued to Tom and Jerry. I went into the kitchen, only to stop when I saw Scott's head snap up. Max was over and sitting at the table while my brother leaned against the counter.

"Hey, kiddo," Max smiled.

"Hi," I said quietly, moving around Scott to get a glass from the cabinet.

I filled it with water from the tap and took a few sips. I realized that I was growing nervous from my hand shaking as I drank from the glass.

"Hey, Willow?" I turned around to look at Scott.

"Y-yeah?"

He extended his fingers to brush the side of my face, causing me to grit my teeth from him touching the bruises. He rubbed his fingers together, brow furrowed.

"Is there a reason why you have so much make-up on?" He asked, his usually fun eyes turning hard.

"I...um..." I begin to stutter.

"Willow, your skin is purple!" Max's eyes widen as he zeroes in on my face. "What happened?"

My heart started to thump faster in my chest. "N-nothing. Nothing happened."

I almost ran out of the kitchen, hearing footsteps behind me.

"Willow," Scott said, the edge from last night returning. "Willow, just talk to me."

He grabbed my arm on my way up the stairs, but I shaked it off. "There's nothing to talk about."

"What the hell as gotten in you, Willow?" He asked as I walk into my room with him hot on my tail. "You've been like this for weeks, just talk to me."

"Nothing is going on," I said, looking through my closet as if I was busy. "I'm fine."

"Bullshit!" He snapped, making me jump. "Every time you come home, you look as if someone has died. Sometimes you just zone out and act like a goddamn zombie."

"It's nothing, Scott," I interjected. "I'm just tired is all."

"Like hell you are. I've heard you cry at night these past few weeks, and I haven't seen you eating or at least touching food. Now, you came home late and not only that, but you have bruises on your face. What is going on? Has someone touched you?"

"No!" I lied. "Nothing is going on!"

I keep looking through my clothes, pulling some out and throwing them in the hamper. They're not even dirty.

"Yeah? What did Gerard mean when he found you?"

"He just found me, okay? Can you just leave it alone?"

He sighed angrily. "Why do you keep doing that?"

"Doing what?"

"Pushing me away!" He exclaimed. "That's all you've been doing, just pushing us all away. Do you know how much Dad has been worried about you? Ever since Mom died..."

"Well, what do you expect, Scott?" It was my turn to get angry. "I just lost my mother, your mother, our mother. How do you expect me to be so strong?"

"Well, don't ignore us, Willow! I'm just trying to help you. Just get your head out of the fucking clouds and realize that!" He scolded me and turned on his heel to leave my room.

I bit my lip and clenched my fists. I could feel my eyes sting and threaten to release tears. Scott was really mad at me, now. I was such a fuck up, I told myself. No wonder he started to yell at me. Everyone must be so disappointed with me. I couldn't help being this way.

"Knock, knock," I looked up through my glossy eyes to see Max standing at my door. I sat down on the bed and pulled my knees up to my chest. "You okay?"

"I don't think I can ever be okay," I replied softly.

He sat down next to me and wrapped an arm around my shoulders. I stiffened at first, but then relaxed.

"He hates me," I stated.

Max sighed. "No one hates you. He's just really frustrated. He worries about you."

I let out a shaky breath as I wiped my eyes. "He's so mad at me..."

"He'll come around," he said. "I better get back to him. It'll be okay."

I nodded as he left my room. I laid back and stared up at my ceiling.

Everything was crumbling around me and I didn't know what to do. The only thing I could do was cry. It basically was the only thing I was capable of doing as well as running from my problems. I think I started running from everything when I was a little girl

I did recall from my childhood that I was always the weakest and the most vulnerable. I didn't know how to interact with anyone as a child, especially with other children. I shied away from everyone and everything, and I guess that was why I never really had any friends. I do remember, though, in the first grade making a friend named Emily. She was shy too, so I guess that was why we befriended each other.

The friendship was short-lived, however, and she moved away somewhere to the West Coast with her family. We were only friends for a month. I think at some point in elementary school, I concluded that I would never be able to have friends since all the other children kept away from me.

Scott, though, was friends with everyone. He was likable and I could see why. He was just fun to be around. But unlike most brothers, Scott never forgot about me. Scott always let me stick around with him and accepted me. We had a bond a lot of siblings didn't really have.

But now with him being twenty-one and I seventeen, we were slowly growing apart. We weren't little kids anymore. And it was my fault. I pushed him away and now he probably hates me for it.

I sat up and rubbed my face with my hands. I decided that I didn't want to be stuck in a house with people I didn't feel like facing. I got up from my bed and headed down the stairs. Cassie and Jack were still watching their cartoons and Scott and Max were nowhere to be seen.

I slipped past the kitchen and out the front door. The porch furniture was covered in snow and it still sprinkled a little. I brushed the snow off the porch swing and sat down. The swing creaked from my weight and icicles cracked and fell from the bars. I laid my head back and felt the cold metal meet the warmth of the back of my neck.

I blocked out all the negative thoughts and all my troubles as I inhaled and exhaled. I let my eyes wander towards the sky. The clouds were moving slowly towards the north and the snow soon stopped. Little patches of blue sky shown through the clouds and a few rays of sunshine too.

I breathed through my mouth, watching as the cold of the air condensed. I did that for a few moments before laughing quietly to myself. I would be a pretty cool dragon. I laughed a little more, realizing that it was something Frank would most likely say.

Beyond the porch, the yard was covered in snow and the pathway was covered in ice. Every so often, a car would drive past, spraying dirty water and black ice behind the tires. I could see a few birds fly about and land on the roof of the house across from mine. They'd hop about before taking off again, joining others like them.

The front door opened and I glanced up briefly before settling my gaze back in front of me. Dad closed the door behind him and settled next to me on the swing. He folded his arms and leaned back, looking out at the yard. We watched the cars speed by, or the little leaves the refused to fall from the big tree in the front. Neither of us said a word; the silence wasn't awkward.

"Snow is going to be bothersome this time of year," he said with a sigh.

I shrugged. "Still pretty to look at."

He nodded thoughtfully. "You're right. Looks really nice during Christmas. You used to have a kick out of it when you were younger. Used to come into the house trailing mud. One time you caught a grasshopper and released it into the house."

I laughed softly, shaking my head. "I'm pretty sure that was the summer."

"Oh?" He grinned, taking his glasses off and cleaned them on the edge of his sweater. "I must be getting old."

I shake my head again and look at him. He had some gray hairs at the nape of his neck, and some creases at his eyes from smiling a lot. My father never failed to smile. He didn't seem any older to me. He still looked like my Dad.

"I don't think I could ever see you old," I told him.

"I'm forty-five. That's kinda old."

"Dad, no matter how old you are, seventy or a hundred, you will never be old to me."

He chuckled, wrapping an arm around my shoulders and kissed my temple. "And no matter how old you get, you will always be my little girl running around the house, pretending to be a fairy."

I laughed. "I liked pretending to be a fairy."

"You even had those plastic wings."

"Oh, yeah, I remember that!"

We both laughed together for a while, thinking about the past. Silence made its way back, and we sat there in the cold, watching over the yard.

"Dad?"

"Yeah, sweetie?"

"I...I'm sorry for coming home late and...f-for making you worry for a while. You don't deserve that."

He sighed and rubbed my arm. "It's okay, I'm not angry or anything. Plus, you're a teenager. Usually teenagers are supposed to come home late."

I looked up at him to see him smiling. He was actually smiling at me despite my off behavior the past weeks.

"I love you, Dad," I said, giving him a hug. "I don't know if you know that, but I do."

He hugged me back. "Of course I do, and I love you, too."

We sat there for a few more minutes until I couldn't feel my fingers from the cold. So, we decided to go back inside the house.

"How about," Dad said as he closed the door. "We make dinner?"

"It's only 3:30, though."

"So?" He grinned. "That never stopped us before. We can have dessert later!"

I laughed and nodded. "Okay, father-daughter activity."

He and I spent the hour and a half trying to make dinner. We decided on making on clam chowder, only we didn't exactly have clams. We used shrimp instead since that was the only thing we had in the freezer. I made garlic bread, too, and kind of toasted it for too long in the oven. It was still edible, so it was alright.

Later, we bowled the soup and served them at the dinner table. I was partly glad that we didn't kill anyone. Scott didn't really talk to me though and barley glanced at me. To be honest, it did hurt a little. We had some ice cream for dessert and the twins asked to play some board games. Scott and I sat out and watched them play Sorry.

I retired for bed while everyone stayed downstairs, saying my goodnights. Even if today ended well, it couldn't stop the nightmares haunting me at night.