After Michelle's mom dies her dad goes into a depression for years. But when he comes out of it will everyone wish he didn't? When her nightmares get worse is there anything she can do to stop her fathers rage? Will her siblings believe her or leave her, she must find the truest form of life before hers is swept away like so many before her. Life is a puzzle.


10. Telling the Truth

As he stared at my bruises I realized I should have told him yesterday. His reaction was different than I expected, he was tougher than I had thought. "Michelle," he said slowly, "what happened?" He was angry, I definitely should have said something sooner.

"I, uhh, I just tripped that's all," I mumbled. He glared at me, "what happened?" His voice was furious and scarily calm. He grabbed my hand I and I snatched it back whimpering.

"Let me see it, now." Grudgingly I let him have it wincing as he slipped off the glove. My hand was caked in dried blood and the super glue textured my whole hand funnily.

His face was troubled but he dragged me to his room, he pulled out a dusty box from under his bed he opened it and from what I could see it looked like the hospital had been packed into it. He rummaged around a brought out gauze and hydrogen peroxide. He led me to the bathroom where he held my hand over the sink and poured the bottle of peroxide onto it. I swore colorfully as it bubbled. I sighed and gave in, I offered him my other hand that was still in a glove. He gingerly removed the glove and poured peroxide onto that one too, I bit my lip to stop myself from swearing.

He wrapped my hands gently in gauze. "I look like a mummy!" I said chuckling, trying to make him laugh.

"Is that all? Or are there more?" He asked, the anger in his voice was just barely controlled this time. I shook my head, he gestured for me to show him.

"Well, to show you I'd have to be almost completely naked, so no." I responded lightly.

"Go put on your bikini and then come back." Really that was his solution. Damn I was quite hoping he would have just given up. But I did as he asked. I found my least revealing one and put a robe on over it, I walked back to the bathroom. "Don't tell Derek," I pleaded as I eased out of the robe. He examined my beaten body without saying a word. It was scary how he evaluated me with his angry face.

It was beginning to look like Dad's.

Join MovellasFind out what all the buzz is about. Join now to start sharing your creativity and passion
Loading ...