Amelia Yates

We just got home, and before I even got in the house I knew for a fact that Dad was gonna hate my guts for being home so late, so I wasn't at all surprised when he greeted me at the front door looking angrier than ever.

I headed in sheepishly, grabbing the cuffs of my cardigan, facing both anxiety and cold due to the loss of Josh's jacket.

He has a stern look on his face.

I don't know what to do, and so I smile awkwardly.

Not knowing anything about your father and him still being able to yell at you whenever he felt like it was a sticky situation that I wasn't yet accustomed to.

I walk past him briskly, attempting to make my way to the staircase without having to talk to him

He grabs my sleeve.

Spinning on my heel, I turn to face him, and he looks significantly angrier than he did a few moments ago, but I can't possibly think why.

Dad raises his eyebrow at me as if he is trying to get me to own up to something.

And it sure would help if I knew what the fuck I was meant to be apologising for.

I don't say or do anything, staying still, to which he grips my wrist a little harder, my bracelets digging into my skin a little.

After pulling my arm from his grip aggressively, I straighten my posture, crossing my arms.

"Look, I'm sorry I was late home, I just got carried away and I lost track of time." I shrug, expecting that to soften the solid tension that was encapsulating the hallway.

My dad shakes his head at me, that quite clearly wasn't what he was attempting to lecture me about.

But it was the only thing I could think of.

Its not like I had misbehaved or anything, my life was far too boring for that, I didn't have friends as of yet, which wasn't a surprise, considering the fact that I never really had, and I didn't party, found homework something I could do with ease, avoid any and every thing which had a risk of rewarding me with any kind of consequence or detention, and I didn't smoke or drink.

Shit.

Rh thought repeated a keyword was circled, highlighted and made bold in my head, I didn't smoke.

But I know somebody who does.

"Oh." The words fell from my mouth a lot quicker than I would have liked them to, which was a talent of mine, my mouth always seemed to move a little speedier than my mind, an annoyance in itself which quite often got me into a lot more problems than id have liked to admit.

"Ya, Amelia, oh is right."

Lifting my cardigan to my face, I bring my nose to it, smelling the fabric that sat comfortably beneath Josh's jacket.

Holy fucking shit.

The light pink cashmere reeked of marijuana, and I cringed at the scent of it, my complexion contorting into a disgusted look.

"Look. pap, I walked past these kids-" I begin, but he stands up now, cutting me off as he begins to speak.

"And what, Amelia, your now a shithead drug mule." his hand is on his hips, and he runs his other hand along his grey hair, repeatedly shaking his head at me as he takes a long, hard blink.

"Hey that's not fair, it wasn't even me!"

Just by the look on his face and the way he practically looms over me, I am made aware he doesn't believe me.

But why should he?

I have thought and thought about the fact that I know practically nothing about my father, but at the end of the day, he knows nothing about me either.

I'm just some random teenage girl who looks like him that now lives in his house, he knows literally nothing about me.

Taking a deep breath, I finally understand how he feels a little, and it's almost as if an invisible weight has been lifted from my shoulders.

"Look, Dad, I know you're worried, and I really am sorry for being after curfew, but I swear I'm not that kinda of kid, I don't do any of that stuff, promise." I tried my hardest to speak sincerely, smiling at him as I spoke.

Slowly, he nodded, as if he was trying to process my words.

"I don't believe you."

I scoff unintentionally.

"I'm sorry Amelia, but I have no reason why I should believe you," he whispers, attempting to keep his voice down, probably in hopes it would keep mine down too in aid of his sleeping family.

I roll my eyes, "You have no reason not to either."

Something about speaking tomorrow is uttered, but I dismiss it as I scale my way along the stairs, trying not to let my feet drag and make noise despite the drowsiness falling over my body.

After swapping my leggings and cardigan out for a pair of pink and white plaid pants and a white shirt, I encapsulate myself under the blankets, turning all of the fairy lights in my room and drawing the curtains closed.

Usually, my nights consisted of me staying up for an indefinite period of time, before getting a small amount of sleep and waking up incredibly drowsy, courtesy of the insomnia I suffered from in my preteens that softened out into a habit as I got older, but tonight I felt sleepy, and I felt as though I would welcome the prospect of sleep if it approached me.

Thoughts of the last few days swelled in my mind and continued to move around until they faded to black, and I let sleep overcome me.

Authors Note!

A shorter one for you all, just a filler, love ya!

remember to press the star <3