Daddy Who Is This?

My tears had dried but my eyes were weak, too weak that I felt they nearly fell off their sockets, I lazily pushed the door to the living room open and surprisingly my father wasn't there, it was a bit relieving because I wasn't really in the mood to be pestered with stupid questions.

"Strange." I muttered to myself as I gazed at 'his' sofa, I was still pulling my feet to the sofa when a pleasant aroma crossed my mucky nostrils, I sniffled to be sure of the direction and sniffled again before jerking towards the dining room.

What's that smell? I wondered as I followed the aroma to the dining table- four dishes were silverly covered on the table and I opened them to barbecued chicken and spaghetti bolognese with two chocolate desserts but more uncannily was the bouquet of lotus flower that lay on the table beside the dessert.

"What's happening here?" I asked weakly as I sat on the wooden seat; cutting a nice slice of the chicken and sliding it into my mouth.

"Mmm," I exclaimed gleefully. "What suspension pacification!" I muttered to myself, carrying a chicken lap and dish of spaghetti to my room.

I fully didn't understand what was happening but all I knew was that it was a placatory from God and that's all that matters. If it's from my heavenly father then I'm nothing less than grateful. I delved my cutlery in the food; tearing and slicing the chicken whilst bloating my mouth with spaghetti. The meal seemed very sumptuous to me because it was rare, the last time I ate a whole chicken lap was never, Mr. Greg has never for once in his life time tried something like that and right now with the spaghetti and chicken staring inanimately at me I felt like I was entitled to something like this, at least for once in sixteen years.

Savoring the last chunk of the chicken and relishing the final strands of the spaghetti; I let out a heavy sigh, cascading down on my bed.

The flower on the table? I remembered as I fell on the bed (still in my school uniform). What were those for? My wind wandered off to extensive wonderments until I was revived by the voices in the living room, voices? That's weird, but what was weirder was that the other voice aside my father's croaky laugh was a girl's giggle.

What's going on? I hurried off to the kitchen with my plate.

"Afternoon." I said disgustedly as my father startlingly shivered, I was looking at the girl that stood in a very short tight gown from head to heel, she looked undeniably in her early twenties from her curves and the firmness of her breasts I ascertained it and that was got me very pissed- her curves.

I was more disgusted at my father than at her, of course I would not blame her for being attractive, I only blame my father for not being able to control his deadening testosterones, he was over fifty years old and yet he's acting like a teenager in high school.

His startled expression confirmed my ab initio assumptions- something ungodly happens here when I'm away.

"Trevor," His voice faltered. "Shouldn't you be in school?" His gaze fell on my hands and his mood immediately dampened.

"Hey miss." I ignored him and turned to the girl.

"Hi, I'm Caroline." She smiled sweetly at me, extending her hand for a handshake.

"What are you doing here?" I asked brusquely making her dart back. But I didn't care. What happened to respect for the dead?

"Trevor don't be rude," My father smiled, playfully poking my chest before he turned to Caroline. "This is Trevor." He said.

Trevor my son, what happened to that honest introduction?

I left them standing in the centre of the living room as I dumped the plate in my hands inside the sink and exasperatingly dashed towards my room.

"He's just in one of his many moods." I heard my father whisper.

How can he do this to mother? I said to myself as I walked into my room. The realization of his dirtiness just stepped-up my hatred for him, where went all the claimed love and care for mom? I wondered, drawing out a picture of my late mother from my photo album; she looked so charming and satisfying to be with, her long blonde ringlets that hung loosely behind her, from where she sat on the swivel stool I could clearly tell her height- she was evidently five feet eight; not too tall and not a pygmy either, her white tanned face showed clearly in the picture, her cheeks were robust and she had two beauteous dimples but what perpetually interests me are her eyes; two cerulean eyes exactly like mine.

I sat on the bed staring sadly at the woman that I was supposed to have emerged from, wondering; why did she die?

The thoughts of my late mother cursed me with a splitting headache, I knew it was going to come and I was waiting for it, it happened every time I thought so much, but I wasn't giving up extensive thoughts anytime soon, albeit I quickly diverged my mind to the earlier happenings at school; the look in Stacey's eyes when I yelled at her, it was a look of astonishment like she never expected it, but I didn't expect it either, I never harbored any of those thoughts because I didn't believe them, I knew she was being nice to me because of something beyond music club and that was just I was oblivious of , in the beginning it was understandable- she maintained a façade so I would agree to sing for them on prom day but what about now? What about now that there isn't any hope of me joining the club? What is her motive now? What is in her agend...

"Arrgh!" I shouted as I felt a very sharp pain in my head, a pain similar to the swift stab of a glittering silvery blade. 'The headaches won't come again.' The doctor assured me, it won't but here I am on my knees; holding my head tightly in anguish and shouting stifledly.

My pills were finished and I never bothered to get some more because I believed the symptoms would never appear again after the visit with Doctor Daniel. Writhing in pains and rolling hurtfully on the floor for approximately five excruciating minutes the pains stopped but the headaches only subsided. It was more than fear that gripped me when I felt streaks down my nostrils, it was cold and flowed freely but slowly, instinctually my hands moved to my lips and touched it; it was liquid yet thick, I pulled my finger to my eyes and I saw it; it was dark red and fresh. I knew nose bleedings were part of the symptoms but I was to only experience nosebleeds when 'it' gets acute! Had it gotten acute!? I cried, cleaning the blood the flowed down my lips, my vision got blurry, too obscured that I barely saw my room, my audition was affected too; my hearing was distorted but sharp-piercing sounds made way through my hands that tightly covered my ears. It's the first time in ten years I'm suffering these symptoms, the earlier symptoms had been minor, the symptoms of... I passed out.

"Hey Trevor, open up." I heard Stacey say from behind my door.

"Holy shit, holy shit, holy shit." I whisperingly exclaimed, scampering from the floor and dragging my clothes from the bed and hurling them to the closet. "Just a sec." I said nervously.

"I just wanna talk okay." She said and I saw the door knob flex.

I jumped to the door; forcing it back with my back.

"I'm naked." I lied.

"Oh," Stacey gasped. "I'm sorry, sorry, I'd be in the parlor." She said and haste clangs of heels followed.

"Jesus Christ!" I muttered and slumped on the bed; still in my school uniform.

My ventilations were hyper, superfast in short, how did she know here? I asked myself inaudibly, looking at how messy my room was, surely she can't come in here and see me for who I really am.

I jerked from the bed and hastily changed my clothes to a long sleeved sweatshirt and brown sweatpants before washing my face and wearing excessive perfume, choking slightly at the harsh smell before joining Stacey in the sitting room

My father and his whore weren't there and somehow that relieved me but also made me feel ominous, wherever they had gone then it was a privy place to have fun and for the obvious reason I hated it.

Stacey's broad smile redirected my attention to her; her outfit was appealing; a red anorak and body fitting leather pants. I was going to ask her how she came, though not designedly.

"Hey Stace." I stretched my hand for a handshake but she spread her arms for a hug, which was weird because I've always presumed embrace as a sign of intimacy, moreover didn't I yell at her today?

However, I received the embrace; savoring its snugness before Stacey broke out.

"What happened?" She asked grimly, letting herself fall on my father's chair.

"In school? I asked, sitting closely to her.

"Well yeah." She replied in a 'duh' tone, rolling her eyes sarcastically.

I let out a slender chuckle at this. "Well I got suspension and... my scholarship was withdrawn." My eyes were downcast as I spoke.

Stacey looked strangely unsympathetic, guess she's still mad at me for yelling at her. "How long's suspension?" She unsmilingly asked.

"A week." I replied quickly. "Aaron would definitely pay for this." I said through gritted teeth.

Stacey queerly laughed at this; she used to be goodhearted as far as I knew.

"What has he got to do with any of this?" She asked amid subsiding laughter.

"What?" I said sharply, my face lighting up angrily. "He lied to Argyle, claimed to be victim and I- victor." I sighed. "Wanna drink anything?" I asked for formality sake, standing to my feet.

"No, I won't be long." She smiled and I sat back down.

I smiled luckily because I knew very well that the only liquid in this house was the bottled water in the freezer and she wouldn't love to drink that.

"You just have to serve your suspension then get back I guess." Her hand fell near to my groin as she gently rubbed it, making me shiver.

"Yeah-I- yeah." I said uncomfortably, hoping she could withdraw her hand but she didn't, rather she held my biceps and climbed on my laps; leering seductively at me.

"What's this...?" I was shut up with a soft bite on my lip.

In no time I was lying on the couch with Stacey on top of me, removing her clothes as well as digging her hands behind my pants...

My eyes opened marginally in my dark room, my sight was vivid now and the headaches stopped, it took a swoon and a gross dream to ease the symptoms.

I propped my elbows against the floor; going over my dream. "Fuck!" I exclaimed and walked away from my room to the living room for a glass of water which in hindsight I wouldn't have made that move because my eyes didn't just see my ears but also Caroline on my father's laps- kissing him rapturously.

Is she mad, blind or both? Because no rational girl without a very pressuring agenda would do this shit with my father.

"What the fuck!" I muttered, stunned by the immorality of my father with someone so young to be my sister, I was frozen and my jaw was dropped.

Mr. Greg tilted his head towards me and he caught my motionless gaze yet persisted in what he was doing- more enthusiastically. It was only when Caroline noticed my figure that she jumped from my father's laps; breathing quickly and nervously.

"What the actual fuck happened here Greg? What's this?" My voice faltered with emotion as tears rolled down my cheeks.

My father looked so nonchalant about the whole situation like it wasn't a big deal but it was, it wouldn't have been if he were thirty years younger without a child.

"Tell him." I heard Caroline whisper to him as she nudged him gently with her elbow.

"Tell me what?" I shouted, hurling aggressive glares at them as I walked exasperatingly towards Greg and Caroline. "Tell me what!" I yelled, standing in front of them.

"Hey! Shut your mouth Trevor, you don't yell at me remember." My father shot me a furious glare. "Well," He continued, "Caroline Otis is my..." He forced saliva down his throat, looking anxiously at Caroline and she motioned him to continue. "I know I never mentioned it to you and it was wrong, I agree," His voice flustered and crackled. Was he going to cry?

"Tell me already." I demanded with teary eyes.

"Caroline is my fiancée." He shouted quickly and sighed.

I looked sheepishly at both of them, groping for words to say. "What is fiancée?" I finally blurted out.