This is a one shot. Hopefully you find the moral in it.
Waking up surrounded by posters of rock bands and Tim Burton movies, the raven haired teen pried her exhausted body out of bed to begin the day.
She peered out her bedroom window to observe rain and only one car in the driveway; an aged Chevy, that of which her step dad, Charles, possessed.
Charles could be intimidating to a little girl of nine, which was how old she was when her mother first introduced him to her six years ago. Charles was nearly two times her height and muscular so, with a rough voice. She didn't like him at the time.
The girl strode in the kitchen wearily and placed herself in a chair diagonal Charles.
" 'Morning, Amy." He greets her, adverting his brown eyes from his plate, then quickly shifting his focus back to his plate.
Amy mumbled her reply as she rubbed the sleep out of her eyes. She really did feel like crap
Amy stood from her chair to freshen up some before she ate, but Charles voice glued her to the spot.
He tilted his balding head and flat out asked, " Would you like some eggs?"
Though his voice was distinct, Charles gave her a prompting smile, the corners of his mouth curving up in amiable dimples. Amy sat back down, and returned the smile, " Please."
As she was nibbled on her breakfast, she reminisced about that same day when she was nine, and her first impression of Charles. And oh, how that first impression was very mistaken.
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