It was almost a minute and Father wasn't saying anything. My questions seemed to have been a conversation-ender, as it had made him quiet.
"Father," I called. He looked at me. "Tell me. What are they hiding? Do you know?"
"Son," his eyes twitched as he placed a hand on my shoulder. "All I know is how to keep you safe. It's all I wanna do. Everything else shouldn't matter. Just trust me."
I scoffed. "So you do know what they are hiding. And like always, you're gonna keep me in the dark about it. Way to go, father."
I turned and left the room, feeling wretched and sore. My room came into sight quickly, all thanks to my fast, angry strides, and I went inside it.
Slamming the door shut, I hit my ass on my bed, burying my face in my hands. I hated feeling this way. Helpless. Angry. Scare
