Faithless door Lauren Jackson

The knife twisted in my back painfully.

Figuratively speaking, of course. I felt a little breathless as I stared at my father. Unshed tears burned at my eyes as his words bounced around inside my mind. My stomach churned uncomfortably with the urge to be sick. This couldn't be happening again. Clenching my fist, I leaned forward a little, as if that would ease some of the ache in my chest.

"You said you wouldn't leave again." I whispered, the words getting caught in my throat.

His own watery eyes burned into mine as he begged for me to understand. I know he was doing this for me, but the best thing would be to stay here. He shook his head slightly, his lips parted. I looked away from him, attempting to hold it together. Sure, we had talked about this a few times but I didn't think he would seriously leave again.

"I know what I said. There are no jobs here. We're struggling to pay the bills as it is and with Nancy moving out..." he trailed off, rubbing his neck.

Nancy could go to hell.

My father and I live in this giant, two story house just out of town. For as long as I can remember, even when mum was still living with us, we lived on the top floor and always rented the bottom out. It was so big that it was almost like two houses on top of each other.

Nancy has been renting the floor beneath us for a couple years now. To say I strongly dislike her would be the understatement of the century. She was loud, obsessive, annoying and clingy. My father and she had a 'thing', which made my skin crawl. Worse than that, she insisted I call her mum, which did not go down well with me.

"I always said we could move." I argued although I loved this house and the thought of moving made me cringe. I would make the sacrifice if it meant having him here with me. My dad was practically my best friend, as lame as that sounds.

"This house has been in our family for a long time. I couldn't imagine living anywhere else."

"But you are!" I exclaimed, exasperated. "You're leaving. Again."

"It's only for six months this time." He pleaded for the umpteenth time, as if that justifies it. "I'll be back before you know it. The mines need people and quite frankly, I need the mines right now. They personally asked me to come back. Do you know how many people get personally asked for this kind of job? None that I know."

My eyes drifted closed as I focused on breathing normally. I clenched and unclenched my fists, trying to gain control of my tidal wave of emotions that were surging through my body.

"You could always move back in with your mother." He pointed out.

"I'm going to kick you in the throat."

He let out a laugh. "I'm going to miss your threats."

"Is this really what you want?" I asked softly, opening my eyes. He was staring at me with complete seriousness. He nodded slowly, as though if he moved too suddenly, I would explode. Exhaling deeply, I hung my head. "This sucks."

"I know, but we need the money. It will just be like last time. I will send you money weekly into your account and we will just find someone to rent out the bottom floor. Besides, your Aunt is around the corner and if you really need her, your mother is just thirty minutes away. I know it isn't the most stable relationship between you two, but she would come to you if you needed it. She loves you."

I felt it was necessary to point out that my Aunty Bec was hardly ever home, but decided against it. I suppose this is a teenager's dream come true. Gigantic house almost to herself while she's completing her senior years at school. Parties, late nights, no parental guidance... I suppose there were some perks to it. I always supported my dad no matter what and this time would be no different. Sighing, I gave him a firm nod.

"Okay."

"Okay?" he asked, a little surprised. "No broken furniture? No yelling? You sure you're alright?"

That made me crack a smile, which is what he intended. "Ha ha. Like you said, it's only six months. You'll be back here annoying me before I know it."

"Exactly." He smiled and I could see the relief pool in his eyes. "I'm not home much as it is. You know how to live by yourself. Bec will be there too, if you need her. I will call you whenever I can, okay?"

"Sure." I said with a forced smile.

He grinned, leaning forward. He embraced me and I buried my head into his chest, trying not to bawl my eyes out. I exhaled heavily.

"Just because I haven't thrown a tantrum doesn't mean I'm still not angry with you." I mumbled into him with a frown.

"I know." He laughed.

"I'll miss you."

"I'll miss you more." He murmured, kissing the top of my head.

Well... My life is about to change.

***

Storming out of the house, I threw my bag into my car. Slamming the door shut, I jammed the key into the ignition, muttering to myself. Pausing, I took a few calming breaths before I completely snapped the key off. I stared gloomily out the window, slight patters of rain slithering down the glass. Of course it was cold and miserable today.

I was expected to go to school, like it was any normal day. I was so indescribably angry and hurt that dad was leaving again. Does he not realise this is the most vital part of my life and he needs to be here for it? I angrily stomped on the accelerator, the car jumping back as I began reversing out the driveway.

Okay, he was doing this for me and I loved him for it. I know he makes a lot of money at the mines which will really benefit us, but I'm still angry. It's hard, I know, him raising me as a single parent but I have a part-time job too. He's not as alone as he makes himself out to be. Probably doesn't help that he had a girlfriend up in Queensland (where he is posted) and most likely wants to go back to her now that him and Nancy are, thankfully, over.

Breathing fire, I sped to school. My knuckles began to turn white as I was gripping the steering wheel so hard. I was so annoyed at him. Suggesting that I live with mum? Please. Okay, so I do get along with her but our relationship is formal and almost business-like. She was too busy with her fashion designing to raise a kid and have a family. Which is why she left in the first place. She now has a new boyfriend, who doesn't have kids thank God and is a well-known photographer, go figure.

Sometimes, I suspect mum only invites me over to model her clothes, instead of spending time with me. Her entire fashion line is red and white. That's her signature colours. With my deep brown eyes, practically non-existent tan and vibrant red hair, I'm an ideal model in her eyes. Unfortunately for her, I despise the entire ordeal, hence why we don't exactly see eye-to-eye. I must admit, doing fashion shoots sometimes can be fun but I don't like to participate in something so superficial.

I was born with "strawberry blonde hair" as I liked to claim back in year five, when everyone picked on me for being a "ranga". But as time went on, I learned to embrace the red and that's exactly what I did. I enhanced it, making it a fiery, deep red that stood out from a mile away. Luckily for me, I wasn't gifted with too many freckles so I could pull the look off pretty well. I'm under average height and smaller than most girls, you could say. I'd like to say the bullying I faced in my younger years are what made me so bitter now but realistically, I think I was just born with this sarcastic nature and dry sense of humour. If I'm honest, 10% of my language consisted of English, the rest of the 90% was heavy sarcasm.

Mum and I were pretty alike in the looks department. We both had fair skin, dark brown eyes and long, red hair, both not naturally coloured anymore. My dad was a tall man who also had fair skin and light hair, so I was doomed in that department. I didn't mind though, I've grown into the look I think and now I stand out in just the way I want. I'm alternate and I like it.

Easing off the accelerator, I slowed to a stop. I began drumming my fingers absently on the wheel as I began to fiddle with the stereo. I saw the car in front of me move forward and I stomped on the clutch. But as the weather was slightly rainy, I must have had some excess water on my shoe. My foot slipped and my car lurched forward to a disturbing stop. As I went to start it again, my entire car harshly jolted forward. My head snapped forward, my nose connecting harshly with the steering wheel. Pain skittered across my face as I cried out.

Some idiot just ran up the back of my car! You've got to be kidding. Can this day could get any worse? Slowly, with my teeth gritted, I reclined back, blood smeared across my steering wheel. Hot blood began trickling down my chin as my nose continued to bleed profusely. Angry tears burned at my eyes that have needed to be released since this morning but I refused to let any shed again. I don't cry. This was no exception.

Kicking my door open for dramatic effect, I marched toward the car behind me. The guy was already out and leaning nonchalantly against his hood. My feet froze as I laid eyes on him. I narrowed my eyes in anger at his carefree attitude. He had to be the most gorgeous human being I have ever seen although from this angle, his jawline seems slightly off, which no doubt would annoy me if I had to deal with him very often. He turned, smirking, most likely knowing how attractive he is. Slowly, he removed his sunnies and wrinkled his nose at me, probably disgusted at the blood coming from me.

"Jeeze, what happened to you?" he lightly joked.

His words snapped me out of my trance as the rage came pouring back into me. I stormed toward him angrily. Before I even realised it, my hands shot out and I pushed him savagely. He stumbled back and hit his car.

"What the hell!" He cried out in surprise, shielding himself.

"You- idiotic- moron-" I scream through my ragged breathing, my hands belting against his defined torso. I ignored the satisfying feel of his muscles underneath my hands and continued to inflict pain on the poor stranger. "I. Hate. You."

"Woah, woah!" he yelled out, still huddled over in attempt to block my hits. "I'm sorry but you're the one who didn't drive when the light turned green!"

"Unintentionally!" I bit back. "Any person could have seen that the car had not gone forward. People like you shouldn't have their license!"

"Well I unintentionally ran up the back of your... whatever your car is."

An enraged growl tore from my throat as I continued to beat him. My car was beautiful. It was a shiny, blue, 2013 Lancer that I had saved my entire life for. Okay, okay, both mum and dad contributed quite a bit to it, but still. It was amazing and everything I wanted. It was a lot nicer than most cars people had at my age so the fact that he insulted it made me that much more furious. My fist shot out connecting with his jaw.

"STOP!" he cried out again, unable to back away anymore.

If you hadn't noticed, I had some anger issues.

After my parents split up, with me having a slight break down, I was sent to counselling. I don't cope well with change, okay? After a few sessions, I was admitted to an Anger Management course a couple town's over. It helped, I must admit. I learnt much more there than I ever did in those counselling sessions.

Evidently, I was having a relapse today. It was just like every sad or angry moment was combined in one. I had entered my 'black-out' phase. I couldn't stop. My hands had a life of their own as that continued to go against him.

Moving faster than I thought humanly possible, his long fingers wrapped around my wrists, effectively stopping me. My body jerked with the impulse to hit him again but his grip was too strong. I stared at him, my breathing irregular. My chest was rapidly falling and my long hair was stuck unattractively across my face. Gradually, I found myself come back to reality. I could physically feel the rage inside me ebb away as I focused on his skin against mine. I needed an anchor to bring me back and I was going to use his touch to my advantage.

It was at that moment, I truly stared at him.

He was taller than me. A lot taller. He had broad shoulders and defined muscles, evident through his tight, black t-shirt. He must have played sport to have a body like that. He had smooth skin with a slightly tanned complexion. He had jade green eyes and spiky blond hair. All in all, he was a fine human specimen. He was almost too attractive to deserve a beat down from me. Key word: Almost.

"Do you have mental health issues I should know about?" he questioned with all seriousness, his eyes staring at me intently.

That effectively snapped me back to reality. I jerked away from him, wrenching both my wrists out his fingers. He stared at me in surprise as I literally acted like I had been touched by poison.

"Don't touch me." I hissed.

"Look, I'm sorry. It was my fault. Are you okay? You're bleeding quite a lot."

Now that the adrenaline was dying down, I really felt the throb of my nose. Plus, my hands were aching from me punching him so many times. The familiar ache of my wrist became apparent. I glanced down at it. A couple months ago I punched a girl at school. Long story short, she ended up with a broken nose and me with a fractured wrist and torn ligaments. It still bothers me and today, I seem to have yet again aggravated it. Great. I stared down at my trembling fingers, my knuckles already slightly puffy. I had a sudden urge to throw up. My head felt really light and black dots began dancing across my vision.

"Er- you look kinda pale." The boy said but his voice sounded so far away. I stumbled to the side, unable to stand on my own anymore. He reached out and despite feeling disorientated, I pushed myself from him. I could hear him yelling for someone to help, but it was all so fuzzy...

I don't remember what happened next.

***

"This just isn't your day kiddo." Dad chuckled as I stared moodily out the window. My forehead was pressed against the window pane. "So what exactly happened? I only heard the nurse's version."

"Some moron ran up the back of my car." I spat, my earlier anger having returned. "Did you see him? Did they even get any of his details? He is paying to get my car fixed."

"He was gone by the time I arrived. Maybe you should be grateful, he did make sure you got to the hospital after all. They gave me a piece of paper with his details but I haven't looked at it yet. I was too busy making sure you weren't going to collapse again."

"See? This is why you can't leave."

"Not this again." he sighed and by his tone, he knew this was coming. "I know you understand but of course you have to make a big deal out of it."

"Yeah that's me, drama Queen as usual." I muttered.

"Faith." He sighed and I know he is frowning.

"Michael." I challenged, dragging my gaze from outside to rest on him.

His tall, lean figure was folded neatly in the driver seat. He had grown some stubble which was slightly patchy. It didn't look too bad when it was only stubble, but when he tried to grow a beard he looked about ten times his age and more like a paedophile. Therefore, he rarely grew facial hair. He knew I would come at him in the night, razor blades in hands otherwise.

"Don't do this. The arrangements have been made, I'm leaving tomorrow night. You know causing a scene isn't going to change anything."

"It might show you how immature I am and that I really need an adult at home to straighten me out?" I asked hopefully.

"You're one of the most mature people I know. You're not fooling anyone." He remarked flatly, not even glancing over at me. I sighed, resting my head back, my many attempts at getting him to stay were evidently futile. "I have some exciting news!"

"Oh whoopee." I replied sarcastically.

He ignored my lack of enthusiasm.

"We have someone interested in renting the place. I have a meeting with them in about..." he trailed off and glanced down at his watch. "Crap, fifteen minutes."

"If it's another bat-crazy lady who is OCD, I'm moving to mum's."

"Like you would do that." He rolled his eyes. "It's a male actually."

"What kind of person are you? Leaving your teenage daughter to live in a house with a random guy?"

"Oh don't spin it like that. I know if anyone touches you you'll probably hospitalise them."

I cocked my head to the side. "That is true."

"Honestly, I feel safe when you're in the house, not the other way around."

I breathed a laugh, shaking my head. If there was a weird noise at night, I was always the one up with the baseball bat while dad cowered behind me pathetically. We were challengers of gender stereotypes at its finest.

"You keep ignoring the fact that you do have an adult figure just around the corner." He said, placing strong emphasis on the last four words of his sentence. "If you have any troubles, you can just crash at Bec's. Stop being melodramatic."

We pulled up to a steady halt in our driveway. I sighed as I stared at my empty spot. My poor car. I felt a little drained from this morning and my nose still hurt, despite the pain killers. I tumbled out of the car, clutching my school bag. My wrist was again wrapped securely in a brace. I had stitches in my forehead but since they were only minor and I had only fainted, not knocked myself out, I was able to come home. They wanted me to stay longer but I argued to the point they actually wanted me to leave. Thankfully, there wasn't any physical damage done to my nose, but it still throbbed.

Wearily rubbing at my face, I decided to take a nap. With that decision made, I marched into the house. I wound up the staircase and took the short trek to my room. Dumping my stuff on the ground, I took three steps and collapsed unattractively on my bed. A few moments later, I heard light footsteps and knew dad was standing in my doorway.

"Are you going to meet your possible soon-to-be house mate at least? He should be here any minute."

"No."

"I need to go out the back and turn the pool filter off. If he comes, can you answer the door? I'll buy you nutella this afternoon if you do."

Ah, using my food weakness against me. He was pulling out the big guns. I groaned dramatically, rolling onto my back.

"Fine."

He grinned, throwing me two thumbs up. I gave him a blank look. He turned and jogged out the back. I had just closed my eyes when the doorbell rang. Sighing, I clambered to my feet and begrudgingly walked to the door. I swung it open and my mouth fell open at who stood there.

"Hey roomie." he smirked, arrogance rolling of him in waves.

"You've got to be kidding me."