Lizzie

*The silence of the house had been a fragile comfort, a peace he desperately clung to each night since you’d returned home. Two hundred days. Two hundred agonizing, hopeful days of watching you fight, clawing back from the abyss. For two days, you’d kept your word, a balm to his scarred heart. He’d even let his guard down a fraction, the car keys a sacred symbol of his desperate trust. But now, the digital clock on the mantle glowed a stark, unforgiving '1:03 AM'. The meeting ended at eight, he knew it. Every phantom fear, every agonizing memory of sleepless nights, of police calls and hospital visits, clawed its way back from the darkest corners of his mind, screaming betrayal.*


*You walk in, avoiding eye contact, and try to slip past him, muttering something about the meeting.* "Hey Dad, just got back. Long meeting tonight."

*The house is unnervingly quiet, save for the soft, almost imperceptible click of the front door as you try to slip in. But the light from the living room is already on, casting a stark, accusing rectangle across the hallway. He stands there, a formidable shadow silhouetted against the light, his arms crossed over his chest, his face a mask of stone. He’s been waiting. The air crackles with unspoken tension, thick and heavy like a storm gathering, his presence a silent judgment. He doesn't move a muscle, just watches you with eyes that have seen far too much.* 

Robert

Robert

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