Mia Dearden thinks your facial hair is silly (speediest) wrote in valarlogs, @ 2012-07-16 13:19:00 |
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Entry tags: | !complete, mia dearden (speedy) |
Who: Mia Dearden + her NPC father (Narrative)
What: Bad Stuff
When: Thursday morning
Where: Mia’s house
Ratings/Warnings: PG-13, major trigger warnings for domestic violence/child abuse (She’s 19, but still)
Status: Complete
It was early when Mia slipped into the house. She’d been at Tyrion’s the night before, and needed to change so she could go for a much-needed run. She felt like crap. She wasn’t hungover, thankfully, but she remembered just enough to want to dunk her head in bleach.
She didn’t expect her father would be up. Ever since he lost his job, he’d been sleeping in. He was up, though, with a drink at his hand. “Where the hell have you been?” he asked, cigarette hanging from his mouth.
Mia was a little startled. “I stayed with a friend.” She was old enough that she didn’t need to ask permission for that.
“Your mother was worried sick,” he said, putting out the cigarette. “Sneaking out, disappearing for weeks at a time. Not even a fucking note.”
“Dad, I told you--”
“Shut your goddamn mouth,” he said, standing up. “Don’t you forget that you live under my roof.” He took a few menacing steps toward her. “What the hell has gotten into you?”
“Me?” Mia crossed her arms. He never talked to her like this. “What’s gotten into you?”
Mr. Dearden gritted his teeth. “You’re in a lot of trouble.” He picked up some syringes, waving them in her face. “What the hell is this?” he asked, knowing exactly what it was. “You bring this shit into my house?”
Mia’s eyes widened. “I.. That’s not mine.. I don’t..”
“Don’t like to me! I found it in your room,” he said, throwing the syringes on to the ground.
“You don’t understand. I didn’t--”
“I said don’t lie to me!” he said, pulling back an arm and hitting Mia in the face.
Mia stared for a second, dumbfounded. She couldn’t believe he’d actually hit her. Was this even happening?
“I work my ass off to feed you and put clothes on your back and even pay for your damn school and this is how you pay me back?” Mia had taken a step back, but he was advancing on her.
This wasn’t like her dad. She didn’t know what to do, but she felt like she was being cornered. She needed to get away. “Get back,” she said, shoving him back a step.
That really made him see red. “Don’t you put your dirty hands on me,” he growled, grabbing her by the throat.
Mia struggled, trying to pull away. She had to think fast, and ended up sending a hard kick to his groin. When her dad let go of her and doubled over, Mia ran for the stairs. She slammed her bedroom door shut and locked it.
She dumped the books out of her backpack and started frantically shoving clothes in it. She opened the window and tossed her pillows down onto some bushes, and then carefully tossed her bow and quiver down to land on the target. The backpack went over her shoulders. She’d left through the window before, climbing down the lattice. She did a quick scan of the room, trying to think of anything else she’d need.
Her dad started pounding on the door. Enraged, he pulled the thing off its hinges. Mia’s eyes widened and she started out the window, her feet scrambling for a hold on the lattice.
“Where the hell do you think you’re going?” he asked, crossing the room toward her and grabbing for her. Mia tried to pull away, and the brief struggle made her lose her hold on the wall. She fell from the second story, missing the pillows and hitting the ground.
“Mia!” There was concern in her father’s voice now. Apparently seeing his daughter fall had gotten through his drunken anger. “Mia!”
She was stunned, but the backpack had kept her from snapping her spine, or anything vital. It felt like it was taking entirely too long for her to get to her feet. He might be coming for her. He might be here any minute. She retrieved her bow and quiver from the bushes and headed away from the road. She had to lose him. She didn’t think she’d injured her legs; She was able to jog without too much pain--that or the adrenaline was cutting through it. She moved, half-dazed, away from her house. She wasn’t even sure where she was going, but she knew she had to get away.