To Love a Tyrant

CHAPTER THREE

Evelyn's POV

I was so not ready to face today. Adulting was an absolute scam. Crazy how I couldn't wait to grow up and do adult things when I was younger. Look at me now, poorer than dirt, living with my drunk of a dad and with no social life whatsoever. And no boyfriend I'd we're counting my lack of achievements so far.

My aching joints just add to the shitty mood I'm currently in. I spent my weekend dog walking for some rich snobs I found on Craigslist and their dogs were way too active for me. I had to always be on my guard cause the little fuckers were just waiting for me to slip up so they'd escape me. I wasn't even joking, they had me running around trying to catch them twice while at the park.

But, on the bright side, I've gotten enough exercise to last me the rest of the year. And I wasn't complaining about the two hundred dollars they paid me afterwards. It wasn't the complete rent, but I was sure that I could use it to hold off Mr.Scwartz until I got the rest. Who knows, maybe I could get myself a nice enough pair of gloves, if I had any left over.

Speaking of the money, I'd have to get it to Mr.Scwartz before I headed off to work. I sat up on my bed and reached for my purse that I'd kept perched on my bedside drawer. A quick search through it had me puzzled as to why I couldn't find the money. It probably was just behind something or the other in my purse.

I turned my purse upside down over my bed and searched through the scattered mess of old receipts, coupons, a couple pieces of gum and still couldn't find the money. “Did it fall out sometime yesterday?” I wondered aloud before I proceeded to slowly and thoroughly search every inch of my room for the money. After a couple minutes of finding nothing but an old sock under the bed and my missing bra, I decided to search the rest of the house.

Walking out of my room, I took note of the fact that my dad wasn't in the living room as usual, but paid no mind to it and carried on with my search. I didn't know how long I'd spent searching but I still couldn't find it. I'd searched through the cushions, under the chairs and tables and even checked through the kitchen just to be sure. And my dad was still a no show.

Was he still in bed or something? Maybe he'd found the money and helped me keep it somewhere. With that train of thought, I'd marched down to his room and knocked on his door. “Dad?” I'd called out but got no response. Upon opening his door, I found that he wasn't in his room either. Okay, now I was getting worried. He didn't have any friends and he didn't usually leave the house. So where the hell could he be?

Walking past our shared bathroom, I heard muffled words coming through the door. The thought to knock crossed my mind for a second before my curiosity got the better of me. And that's how I ended up with my ear pressed tightly against the door, straining to hear whatever I could.

“But Mr. Charlie….” That was definitely my dad's voice. “I know you've been generous with the time frame but….” I wondered what he was talking about and more importantly, whom he was talking to. “I already gave you all the money I had yesterday.” Since when did he have any money? “I know the two hundred dollars didn't make much of a dent, but I will get you the rest of your money.”

Surely he didn't just say that he had given two hundred dollars to this Charlie person. “Mr. Charlie, please….” You've got to be f*****g kidding me. I just spent the last couple minutes in a mad frenzy, searching this house from top to bottom, only to find out that my father had not only stolen my money, but had given it to some strange man.

Since when has he been stealing from me? Did he have no f*****g shame? What type of father steals from his own daughter? Especially with me being the only one working to keep us barely afloat. Talk about being entitled and ungrateful.

The sound of his muffled sobs halted the angry rant that had been brewing in my mind. f**k, it's not fair. I couldn't even be mad at him cause I knew how much he's suffering. It annoyed me beyond measure that I couldn't just view him as the villain in my story and hate him. Cause despite all his flaws, he was still my dad and I loved him, even though he made it increasingly hard to every day.

His sobs had grown louder and with them, so did the pity I felt for him. Defeated, I just turned around and walked back to my room, softly closed the door behind me and sat on the floor with my back pressed against it. I hated this. How was it fair that our lives could have taken such a drastic turn in just a year? Wasn't it bad enough that I'd lost mom? Did I have to lose dad too in the mix?

I could feel the tears coming and I struggled to fight them off. I hadn't had a proper cry since mom's funeral and I didn't want to cry now. Try as I did though, the tears welled up like an angry dam in my eyes and forced their way out. For the first time in months, I truly let myself cry.

I couldn't afford to waste a lot of time on my pity party though, I had work to do and needed to come up with a new way take rent. I stood up and did my best to shake off my slump as I got dressed for work. I wouldn't get paid for another two weeks at either of my jobs, but that didn't mean that I could skip out on work, no matter how desperately I wanted to.

I threw on my black slacks, white, button up, long-sleeved shirt and black comfortable flats. I was in no mood to deal with the drama that came with heels today. A quick glance in the mirror showed how puffy my eyes were and how red my nose had gotten from my little breakdown.

This was one of the reasons makeup was invented. Squeezing out what little concealer I could from the almost finished tube, I applied it as well as I could. My eyes still looked slightly puffy, but at least I could pass if off as being sleep deprived. I'd just let my nose be as it was.

I packed my purse back up and made my way out of my room. Upon getting to the living room, I saw that dad was back to the couch. A couple beers around him as he guzzled the one in his hand. My anger and sadness wanted to battle it out again, but I just took a deep breath to calm down and continued making my way out of the house.

“Eve?” His voice had me paused a few steps from the door. I tilted my head slightly in his direction to show that I was listening. He stayed silent, causing me to actually look at him. He looked sad and pitiful, donning his normal get up of boxers and a wife beater. He seemed to be struggling with what he'd wanted to say to me. Finally, he said, “Get me some beer on your way back.” then proceeded to focus his attention on the TV.

I immediately left after that. Had I stayed a second longer, I might have let my rage win and done something I'd regret. The day had just started and I already wanted it to be over. I'd pray for this to be the worst of it, but life rarely, if ever, went the way you wanted.

I'd just have to be ready for the worst. Bur if it did turn out worse than this, I might just join my father on that damn couch tonight.