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Title: ~Yesterdays~
Author: EC-Chan
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If you steal this, I will hunt you down and kill you! I need this story for school ^^; But it's not like you'd really want to or anything.. I'm just saying -.-;
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I found out a week or so ago. It wasn't all that hard. For months now I've known that something had happened in my father's life. He was so happy.so suddenly carefree. Normally I wouldn't waste my time thinking about him or reflecting on his strange moods. I would just use his high spirits to twist in whatever way I saw fit at the moment. It was something I had grown up doing and so I paid him no mind.
And then I began to see the signs. A misplaced article of clothing here- slightly rumpled sheets there. Honestly at first I thought it was my little sister. She's only a year younger then me and had her first steady boyfriend at sixteen, so the conclusion made complete and utter sense. But when I went to her room to warn her to be more careful, she acted completely innocent. Of course at first I thought it was an act- it wasn't like she was going to openly admit it to me, but I figured she'd be more careful at the very least.
Imagine my annoyance the very next day when I found a double d bra tucked in the corner of our black leather couch, nestled away, attempting vainly to blend in, but only making itself seem even more ridiculously out of place. But as my growing anger mounted, I realized one key fact that made a hard lump quickly reside in its place, settling with a thump in the pit of my stomach. My sister didn't wear a double d. Neither did my mom. Or anyone else who I knew that had any access to our house whatsoever.
I took in a deep breath and glanced around vainly. What for, I do not know. I suppose just some logical explanation, though I knew there wasn't one. There couldn't be one. Ever since my mother had quit her job, my father refused to pay for a maid. The fights that went on after that.I shudder to think of them. There were nights when I said screw it, and simply left- spending my time with my sympathetic friends.
They've been fighting more then ever lately. At least that was what came to my mind as suddenly stopped spinning, my hand still clenching black lace. My father was staring at me from the other side of the room, his jaw contracting nervously.
"Um.dad," I said slowly, my face reddening when I realized once again what exactly I was clutching. Questions that would never be answered ran through my pounding mind at that moment; the main one being what was he going to think?
He frowned, "What are you doing home so early?"
At least he didn't ask about it, though later I had wondered what would be worse- him asking about the black bra or why I was skipping, and now I wonder why I hadn't thought to ask him why he was home so early. That would have made my life a little easier.
But, like I said, it took a few months to finally find out the truth- that my father had a mistress. I found out the traditional way- there was a love note crumpled in his pocket (written to her), but I wasn't the traditional finder. If my mom hadn't asked me to do the laundry- well actually I should say bribed me- then I would never have found out. The only thing was I wasn't the usual finder. Wasn't it always the mother who actually found the note..or I don't know.
It's just that it's not like I'm going to do much about it. Of course the idea of my father having an affair disturbed/s me, but I wasn't all that much surprised. I knew my parents' relationship had gone majorly downhill from what it once was, and just never really thought about it. I mean it's just so engraved into my mind that my parents will stay together forever- to death do us apart and all that.I don't know.
Anyway, I confronted my father about it. What a disaster that was. I guess randomly walking into his room and shoving a bra in his face wasn't actually the best approach. But I seriously didn't want to deal with it- I had a date. He had been so surprised, and I had just thrown the note after the bra and left. I don't think I'd be a good tactician.
Needless to say when I finally got home at one in the morning he was waiting for me, a silent fury brewing underneath a false face of unconcern. I frowned at him, asked him what he wanted, and when he was silent, shrugged and walked up the stairs. My parents were never the parenting type- they didn't care about my grades or basically anything of what I did as long as they weren't called in by the principal or police or anything like that. Thus it sort of surprised me to find him standing there like that.
"You can't blackmail me."
I turned, completely taken aback, "I wasn't about to. Is that why you're still here?"
"What's that supposed to mean?" His eyes narrowed.
"Nothing," I said, staring at him strangely. "Uh.I'm just going to go to sleep now, 'night."
I never know what to say around my father any more, or so it seems. Every time he looks at me, there's always a hint of anger and I'm not sure why. It's his fault and I haven't even brought up his lover with him. But slowly it began to sink in to my thick skull that there must be something about this woman that was making him act like this.there just had to be.
That's when I looked up this woman's phone number (it was written on note) and found her address, and here I now stand- just simply staring at it. It wasn't a bad house, but it wasn't extremely nice either. It was simply there- blue with dirty white shutters- two windows with heavy purplish drapes covering them and a small garden that looked like it hadn't been weeded in weeks.
I don't know why I stood there just looking at it, but I guess the people inside had to notice eventually. A homely woman with a dirty apron and a somewhat robust body took a cautious step outside, closing the door behind her. She smiled nervously at me, her rosy red cheeks dimpling slightly, and her fingers tried to straighten out her apron.
"Can I help you?" She asked. Her voice was warm and sweet and I couldn't help but blush, looking at the ground. I liked her. I really truly liked her, but there was just one small problem- as hard as I tried, I simply couldn't picture my father ever going for her.
"Yes.uh, are you Junie Harlan?" I asked, frowning at the ground.
"No," The woman shook her head, understanding flattening worried lines. "That's my daughter. I'll go get her dear."
And with that the woman was gone. I blinked at the slammed door, wondering what was going on. The woman my dad was sleeping with was this lady's daughter? But this nice motherly woman didn't look like she was old enough to have a daughter my father's age. I frowned, an uneasy feeling filling my gut.
A few seconds later a girl- a mere child! Exited the house, her arms crossed and her stance challenging- she looked like a tiger about to pounce. Black gloves ran up her arms, cutting off just below her short- sleeved long black dress that cut off just below her butt. It was one of those dresses that you can find at 'Hot Topic' or some other crazy store of the like. And.my father had confessed that he was in love with this girl? In LOVE with this child no less? She was probably a year or so younger then me! It had to be a mistake, but I knew, my heart sinking in dread as anger clambered over it, that it wasn't- simply by this girl's stance.
"Junie- if that's even your real name," I frowned in disgust at her. "You're so going down."
~
Title: ~Yesterdays~
Author: EC-Chan
~
If you steal this, I will hunt you down and kill you! I need this story for school ^^; But it's not like you'd really want to or anything.. I'm just saying -.-;
~
I found out a week or so ago. It wasn't all that hard. For months now I've known that something had happened in my father's life. He was so happy.so suddenly carefree. Normally I wouldn't waste my time thinking about him or reflecting on his strange moods. I would just use his high spirits to twist in whatever way I saw fit at the moment. It was something I had grown up doing and so I paid him no mind.
And then I began to see the signs. A misplaced article of clothing here- slightly rumpled sheets there. Honestly at first I thought it was my little sister. She's only a year younger then me and had her first steady boyfriend at sixteen, so the conclusion made complete and utter sense. But when I went to her room to warn her to be more careful, she acted completely innocent. Of course at first I thought it was an act- it wasn't like she was going to openly admit it to me, but I figured she'd be more careful at the very least.
Imagine my annoyance the very next day when I found a double d bra tucked in the corner of our black leather couch, nestled away, attempting vainly to blend in, but only making itself seem even more ridiculously out of place. But as my growing anger mounted, I realized one key fact that made a hard lump quickly reside in its place, settling with a thump in the pit of my stomach. My sister didn't wear a double d. Neither did my mom. Or anyone else who I knew that had any access to our house whatsoever.
I took in a deep breath and glanced around vainly. What for, I do not know. I suppose just some logical explanation, though I knew there wasn't one. There couldn't be one. Ever since my mother had quit her job, my father refused to pay for a maid. The fights that went on after that.I shudder to think of them. There were nights when I said screw it, and simply left- spending my time with my sympathetic friends.
They've been fighting more then ever lately. At least that was what came to my mind as suddenly stopped spinning, my hand still clenching black lace. My father was staring at me from the other side of the room, his jaw contracting nervously.
"Um.dad," I said slowly, my face reddening when I realized once again what exactly I was clutching. Questions that would never be answered ran through my pounding mind at that moment; the main one being what was he going to think?
He frowned, "What are you doing home so early?"
At least he didn't ask about it, though later I had wondered what would be worse- him asking about the black bra or why I was skipping, and now I wonder why I hadn't thought to ask him why he was home so early. That would have made my life a little easier.
But, like I said, it took a few months to finally find out the truth- that my father had a mistress. I found out the traditional way- there was a love note crumpled in his pocket (written to her), but I wasn't the traditional finder. If my mom hadn't asked me to do the laundry- well actually I should say bribed me- then I would never have found out. The only thing was I wasn't the usual finder. Wasn't it always the mother who actually found the note..or I don't know.
It's just that it's not like I'm going to do much about it. Of course the idea of my father having an affair disturbed/s me, but I wasn't all that much surprised. I knew my parents' relationship had gone majorly downhill from what it once was, and just never really thought about it. I mean it's just so engraved into my mind that my parents will stay together forever- to death do us apart and all that.I don't know.
Anyway, I confronted my father about it. What a disaster that was. I guess randomly walking into his room and shoving a bra in his face wasn't actually the best approach. But I seriously didn't want to deal with it- I had a date. He had been so surprised, and I had just thrown the note after the bra and left. I don't think I'd be a good tactician.
Needless to say when I finally got home at one in the morning he was waiting for me, a silent fury brewing underneath a false face of unconcern. I frowned at him, asked him what he wanted, and when he was silent, shrugged and walked up the stairs. My parents were never the parenting type- they didn't care about my grades or basically anything of what I did as long as they weren't called in by the principal or police or anything like that. Thus it sort of surprised me to find him standing there like that.
"You can't blackmail me."
I turned, completely taken aback, "I wasn't about to. Is that why you're still here?"
"What's that supposed to mean?" His eyes narrowed.
"Nothing," I said, staring at him strangely. "Uh.I'm just going to go to sleep now, 'night."
I never know what to say around my father any more, or so it seems. Every time he looks at me, there's always a hint of anger and I'm not sure why. It's his fault and I haven't even brought up his lover with him. But slowly it began to sink in to my thick skull that there must be something about this woman that was making him act like this.there just had to be.
That's when I looked up this woman's phone number (it was written on note) and found her address, and here I now stand- just simply staring at it. It wasn't a bad house, but it wasn't extremely nice either. It was simply there- blue with dirty white shutters- two windows with heavy purplish drapes covering them and a small garden that looked like it hadn't been weeded in weeks.
I don't know why I stood there just looking at it, but I guess the people inside had to notice eventually. A homely woman with a dirty apron and a somewhat robust body took a cautious step outside, closing the door behind her. She smiled nervously at me, her rosy red cheeks dimpling slightly, and her fingers tried to straighten out her apron.
"Can I help you?" She asked. Her voice was warm and sweet and I couldn't help but blush, looking at the ground. I liked her. I really truly liked her, but there was just one small problem- as hard as I tried, I simply couldn't picture my father ever going for her.
"Yes.uh, are you Junie Harlan?" I asked, frowning at the ground.
"No," The woman shook her head, understanding flattening worried lines. "That's my daughter. I'll go get her dear."
And with that the woman was gone. I blinked at the slammed door, wondering what was going on. The woman my dad was sleeping with was this lady's daughter? But this nice motherly woman didn't look like she was old enough to have a daughter my father's age. I frowned, an uneasy feeling filling my gut.
A few seconds later a girl- a mere child! Exited the house, her arms crossed and her stance challenging- she looked like a tiger about to pounce. Black gloves ran up her arms, cutting off just below her short- sleeved long black dress that cut off just below her butt. It was one of those dresses that you can find at 'Hot Topic' or some other crazy store of the like. And.my father had confessed that he was in love with this girl? In LOVE with this child no less? She was probably a year or so younger then me! It had to be a mistake, but I knew, my heart sinking in dread as anger clambered over it, that it wasn't- simply by this girl's stance.
"Junie- if that's even your real name," I frowned in disgust at her. "You're so going down."
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