I never blamed my father for his actions.
For the man that killer me mother wasn't my father, he had changed.

He first started drinking when Allison died, she was only seven when a car driving twice the speed limit on the wrong side of the road ploughed into my fathers truck.

My little sisters death was a result of drunk driving, and after my father became the very thing that took his youngest child's life. A drunk.

I was nine when Ally died. I could still hear my mothers cry when she got the call about the accident, we rushed to the hospital to find my father stabilised yet unconscious. Allison was nowhere to be seen, my mother ran down the ward screaming her name, though deep down she knew her fate.

She fell to the floor when the doctor told her, wailing and crying. The car had mainly hit the car on Allison's side, leaving my father on the brink of death, yet alive. Poor Ally wasn't so lucky.

It started with just a glass of whiskey every night to 'help him sleep.' But one whiskey soon turned into four or five, which then turned to beers and vodka aswell.

It was a slippery slope but my father came crashing down, I could still remember the first time he struck my mother. They were surging about the amount he had been drinking...

"You need to be here, not at the bar! Amora needs you, she needs her dad!" My mother yelled, throwing her hands in the air.

"I'm here now! I could've left after Ally but I didn't!" He growled, pointing a finger in my mothers face. "I shouldn't have to stick around to raise someone else's child!"

"Not this again!" She cried. "For fucks sake Matthew she's yours! And as for Ally what would she think of you if she were here now? She'd be scared if you just like Amora is! And to be honest can you really blame her?!"

The slap threw my petite mother to the floor. She clutched her cheek as the tears ran down her face yet she didn't back down. "Fuck You." She whispered. My father marched towards her, grabbing her arm and dragging her into the bedroom, locking the door behind them.

I lay in bed awake that night, my mothers soft cry's echoed through the hollow walls.

One day I wished to see my father again, I wasn't exactly sure what I would do if I did, if I would hate him or if he would be the same man he was before Allison died. I just wanted to see him.

***

"Amora? Are you ok?" He wrapped his arms around me, and I snuggled into his warmth.

He smelled of metal and cigarettes but along time ago I had learned to love them smell but now it made me want to gag.

I rolled over in the bed to face him. "Never better." I was surprised how hard it was to force the smile on my face.

"I can't believe you're back." He grinned. "I never stopped looking for you."

I didn't doubt it.

We stayed in bed a while longer before we got up and I had a shower whilst Daniel dressed in the other room. I showered quickly, scrubbing my skin until it ached.
I didn't dare touch my shoulder though. Dark purple tendrils we're now turning black. Should I tell Daniel?

Something within me answered, screaming no.
I would hide it for now.

I pulled on a pair of black jeans and an oversized grey sweater. I stared at myself in the mirror. My wet white blonde hair fell to my hips, and in the time I had spent with Grayson my face seemed to have changed if that were possible, my lips seemed slightly fuller, my eyes brighter and my pale skin almost glowed.

The house had fallen into disrepair since I left, empty bottles lined the stairs and any available surfaces, dirty laundry and other clutter lingered on tables and empty corners.

Daniel day at the kitchen table that was also covered in empty bottles of beer and scotch.
Two steaming plates of omelette sat in a cleared space.

I hated omelette. Daniel, however loved it.

"Sit." He smiled. I did as he said, though I couldn't help but feel on edge.

In the time since I had last seen him his hair had grown maybe an inch or so, stubble peppered his jaw and his eyes seemed much duller than I had remembered him.

Had he really changed or had my view of him changed instead? I pushed the thought away, starting to eat the omelet. Like a dangerous dog I  was carful not to look Daniel in the eye.

He was a ticking time bomb, everything was so good, so perfect.. until he exploded, destroying everything in his path, and I was no exception.

We finished the meal and he sat back in his chair leisurely whilst I began to wash the dishes. I opened the cutlery draw to put away the knives and forks when a small pocket knife caught my eye.

I threw a quick glance over my shoulder, Daniel was distractedly picking at his teeth with a splint. I grabbed the knife, shoving it into my bra.
Just for safe keeping I told myself.

I washed the dishes in silence, when I was finished I turned off the tap as arms slid around my waste.

He pushed himself against me, moving a strand of white blond hair behind my head. His fingered ghosted my skin as he slid one sleeve of my jumper off of my shoulder, his lips found my neck. I shivered as a cold chill ran down my spine.

I pushed away from the counter and out of his arms, moving to the table to tidy away the rest of the remains of breakfast.

"What's that?" He grunted, grabbing my wrist and forcing me to face him.. but his grip was too tight, it hurt. "What's on your shoulder!"

I hissed and dropped the glass I was holding. The slap rang out sharp and loud, my head flew back and my hand shot to my cheek in shock.

"Daniel." I gasped. White hot pain raced through my veins. My ears rang and my head swayed as black and silver stars gathered at the edges of my vision. "It's nothing!" I tried to pull my jumper back over to cover the wound.

He stared at me through dark blank eyes. "Show me!" He grabbed at the burgundy material, the sound of ripping  slashed through the silence as me tore my jumper away. I tried my best to shield my nakedness from his eyes with my arms.

The air was cold but his heart colder.

His face was empty, lax of any feeling of anything except shock. "Amora..."

***
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