Beneath the Fracture

Chapter 2

I hesitate, not wanting to interact with him in this state.

"Coming, Dad," I say reluctantly.

As I enter the living room, he's sprawled on the couch, his eyes half-closed.

"Siren, pass me that bottle," he slurs, pointing to the whiskey on the coffee table.

I hand it to him, trying not to look at the gun still lying on the kitchen table.

"Why do you need that?" I ask, nodding toward the gun.

"For protection," he mutters, taking a swig.

Protection? From what? Himself?

I turn to leave, but he grabs my wrist.

"Siren, you know I love you, right?"

His words are laced with alcohol and insincerity.

"Yeah Dad, i think so," I reply, pulling away.

As I escape to my room, I hear the TV blaring, and my dad's laughter.

I lock the door, trapping myself in this sanctuary.

My phone buzzes – a text from Melody.

"Hey, what's up? Want to hang out tomorrow?"

For a moment, I forget about the chaos downstairs.

"Definitely," I type back.

Sakura's face pops into my mind.

Maybe tomorrow will bring a brighter day.

I drift off to sleep, clinging to that hope.

Granny's soft voice pulled me out of my restless slumber. "Siren, sweetie, dinner's ready."

I groggily opened my eyes, rubbing the fatigue away. "I'm not hungry, Granny," I mumbled, turning onto my side.

But Granny didn't leave. Her footsteps approached, and the bed creaked as she sat down. "Baby, you need to eat. You've been shutting yourself away all day."

I shrugged, avoiding eye contact. I didn't want to talk about it.

"Is everything okay, sweetie? You seem troubled," Granny probed, stroking my hair.

I hesitated, unsure how much to reveal. "Just tired, Granny. School was long."

Granny's expression softened. "Come down when you're ready, okay? Dinner will be here."

As she left, I felt a mix of emotions swirl inside. Love, in my experience, was a complicated, painful thing.

I lay back, staring at the ceiling, my thoughts drifting to Sakura and the fleeting sense of connection we shared.

Maybe, just maybe, there was more to life than the darkness at home

I sat down to dinner with Granny, just the two of us, as usual. Dad never joined us. Granny's eyes locked onto mine, her smile faltering as tears welled up. I avoided asking what was wrong; I wasn't emotionally prepared for another heavy conversation.

I focused on my food, pretending not to notice her tears. After dinner, Granny shooed me away, telling me to go to bed while she handled the dishes. I obediently retreated to my room, seeking solace in sleep.

The next morning, I woke up to Granny's anguished screams, directed at Dad yet again. What had he done now? I wondered, my stomach twisting with anxiety.

I quickly got ready for school, sneaking out of the house without anyone noticing.

At the school gate, I waited for Melody, who arrived with a surprise companion - one of the cute grade 12 guys. As an introvert, I considered slipping away, but Melody's infectious energy drew me in.

"Heyyy Bestie!" Melody shouted, enveloping me in a warm hug.

"Hi," I replied, forcing a smile.

Melody introduced her friend, Selma, and we exchanged awkward hellos. Sakura joined us, and Melody mentioned Selma would show us a haunted house outside town. I felt a thrill mixed with apprehension.

As we walked to class, Melody whispered, "What do you think of Selma?"

"He's alright," I said nonchalantly, downplaying my interest.

Melody's knowing smirk made me blush.

In class, Austin, my annoying neighbor, sat beside me. Mr. Pretorious's monotone voice droned on, but my mind wandered to Selma, the haunted house, and the mysteries surrounding my family.

After school, Melody, Selma, and I piled into Selma's car, excitement and nervousness buzzing in the air. We were headed to the infamous haunted house on the outskirts of town.

As we approached the dilapidated mansion, its towering spires and overgrown gardens sent shivers down my spine. Melody squealed, "This is gonna be epic!"

Selma grinned mischievously. "You guys ready for this?"

We exchanged nervous glances.

We entered the house with Selma leading. It wasn't as scary as it looked on the outside, but the creaking floorboards and dusty air still sent chills down my spine.

Selma began telling us a story about the family that died in the house. His voice was low and hypnotic, drawing us in.

"...The Smiths were a happy family, but tragedy struck one fateful night. The father, driven by madness, took the lives of his wife and children..."

Selma's eyes locked onto mine, his gaze piercing. I felt uneasy.

"...Some say their spirits still roam these halls, seeking justice."

Selma's gaze drifted back to mine, and I wondered why he kept looking at me.

As we explored the house, Selma continued to glance at me, his expression unreadable.

When we left the house, Melody whispered, "Girl, I saw the eye contact between you and Selma. He's got a thing for you!"

I frowned, confused. "What? No, we were just listening to the story."

Melody raised an eyebrow. "Trust me, Bestie. That was more than just interest in the story."

I shook my head, unsure what to make of Melody's comment.

I trudged home, exhaustion consuming me. As soon as I stepped inside, I headed straight to my room, too drained for small talk.

Granny usually checked on me, but I knew she'd leave me be if she thought I was studying. I arranged books on my bed as a decoy.

However, it was Dad who burst in, his voice thundering. "Where were you?"

"Out with friends," I replied coldly.

"Why are you coming home so late? Do you know what time it is?" he demanded.

"Why do you care?" I shot back.

Dad's face reddened. "Because I'm your f*****g father, the one parent you didn't kill, you little bastard!"

His words cut deep. I met his anger with my own, pain and fury blazing in my eyes. Without a word, I turned and left the room.

I didn't stop until I was out of the house, darkness enveloping me like a shroud. Tears blurred my vision, but I kept walking.

Dad always found ways to break me.

Eventually, fatigue caught up with me. I collapsed onto the roadside curb, tears spent.

That's when I began to sing, my voice a soothing balm to my fractured soul.

As darkness deepened, I reluctantly considered returning home. Not for Dad's sake, but for Granny's. She'd be worried sick, and the thought of her anxious face gnawed at me.

I didn't want to burden that gentle soul with more stress. She already carried enough.

With a heavy sigh, I stood up, dusting off my clothes. The night air still vibrated with the emotions of our argument, but I pushed aside my resentment.

As I walked back home, the silence was oppressive, punctuated only by crickets and the occasional passing car.

Granny's face lit up with relief when she saw me. "Siren, child, where were you? I was so worried."

I forced a weak smile. "Just needed some fresh air, Granny."

She eyed me skeptically but said nothing, enveloping me in a warm hug.

Dad's absence from the room was palpable, but I didn't seek him out. Instead, I helped Granny with dinner, our silence a comforting reprieve.

Here's the revised continuation:

I locked myself in my room, seeking solace from the tension downstairs. My phone buzzed with texts from Melody.

"OMG, Siren! Selma's having a house party Friday after school! We're invited!"

My initial hesitation faded. Anything to escape this toxic home life.

"Count me in," I replied.