



CHAPTER FOUR
Arielle
This isn't the first time I've walked in on my parents arguing, nor is it the second. But I've never yelled at my father like that. It might have been because of what happened to me in school today or just seeing the fear in my mother's eyes, but I finally found my voice and yelled at him.
But now as I stared at him walking towards me, all the nerves in my body screamed at me to run. But I couldn't. I found myself frozen in the spot unable to move.
“What did you just say to me?” He said, taking slow strides towards me.
One thing my father is very good at, is making people nervous. He is a very good manipulator, but he can also make you feel so at ease.
To the outside world, Charles McAlister is a great person, a good father, a caring husband, and the best boss anyone can ever have. He's basically the ideal man.
Sometimes I wish the people who praised him on TV could see what a monster he truly was. A great tormentor.
He wasn't entirely a bad father. He was barely home. And when he comes home, he mostly ignores me except when necessary. AKA when I do something really bad at school and the teachers invite him.
It's mostly related to my fights with Drayton. After meeting with my teachers, he'd give me a hefty amount of money and tell me to behave.
But Charles McAlister was a horrible husband. A lot of people can testify to that. But they're usually too afraid to step forward. Besides, there were barely any evidence of the abuse.
Aside from the usual arm gripping, or hard shoving, my dad has never hit my mum. Or I've never seen him hit her. I don't know what he does to her when I'm not there. But she doesn't have any bruises.
My mum wasn't as influential as my father. She came from a very average family. She knew she couldn't stand a lawsuit against my father. The last time someone tried to fight him in court for something he did, the person didn't only lose the case, they lost everything they ever had. My father was that powerful.
I blinked away the memories that flashed across my mind and took a sharp breath.
“I said let her go!” I repeated, forcing myself to hold his gaze, despite my jittery nerves.
Maybe it was because of my recent brush with death or the very shitty day I just had, but the fear in me slowly dissipated. I knew he would never physically hurt me. Unlike my mother, I had nothing to lose. I was his daughter. He could throw me in jail if he wanted. I don't care.
But he wouldn't do that. Not if it would affect his reputation.
He kept moving closer to me and I dared to take a step forward. I crossed my arms on my chest to stop them from shaking and betraying my facial expression. I tilted my chin up.
“Are you going to shove me away too?” I asked in a taunting tone while pinning him with a hard stare.
He blinked as if my reaction took him by surprise. He raised his hand and I braced myself for the slap but he patted my shoulder instead. He flashed me his smile. The type he only used on camera.
“Wow, Joyce, you raised this girl right. She's growing up to be just like me.” He said, his eyes shining with pride as if I've done something other than standing up to him.
“Don't you dare touch her, Charles,” my mum said in what was supposed to be a threat, but it came out like a plea.
My father ignored her and gave my shoulder a slight squeeze.
“You're becoming a true McAlister, little one. Proud of you.” He gave me an eerie smile before walking out of the house.
I released a breath I didn't even realize I was holding.
I've learned to hear my father day he was proud of me for a very long time. He never praised me. Not when I top my class. Not when I win an academic competition. Never. But for some twisted, depraved reason, he was proud of what I just did?
I couldn't help the sinking feeling at the pit of my stomach. I know I wasn't a very good person, but my father is the last person I'd want to be like.
I was so engrossed in my thoughts that I didn't see my mum move closer to me and enveloped me in a hug. Her grip tighten around me almost crushing me. Then she broke into sobs.
“Mum, are you okay?” I asked, disengaging from the hug.
“Uhm.. yes, yes I'm fine. I think something got into my eyes.” She quickly dabbed away the tears at the corner of her eyes, then flashed me a smile.
I raised an eyebrow at her. She must have realized how lame her lie was judging by how she quickly cleared her throat.
“Why are you home early from school? Did something happen?”
I contemplated telling her about what happened at school including Drayton. Since I don't have much friends aside Dan, I tell my mum everything. Every day, I look forward to coming back from school and venting to her about my day.
But I couldn't bring myself to do that today. Something clearly went down between her and my Dad.
“No, nothing happened. I'm just a little tired.”
A frown etched between her eyebrows,
“Tired? Do you feel sick again? Should I call a doctor? Did you take your medicine before you left for school this morning?” She bombarded me with questions while checking my body for any sign of discomfort.
She guided me to the couch while still scanning my body.
“No, I'm fine. I didn't mean tired physically.”
Her facial expression softened.
“Everyone at school treating you in a weird way?”
“Yes. So weird. The lunch lady gave me a scented candle to wand off evil spirits.” She chuckled slightly, my lips tilted into a smile.
“And every teacher that entered my class found it necessary to give a shout out to me first before starting the lecture. It was so annoying.” I groaned.
My mum patted my head slightly.
“Oh honey, that must have been so frustrating.”
“It was.” I placed my head on her shoulder and she ran her fingers through my hair.
“It's going to get better soon. I promise.” she kissed my forehead.
We sat in silence for a few minutes. I decided to ask the question that has been bugging me.
“What happened with Dad?”
She went still for a while that I almost thought she wasn't going to answer. She adjusted her sitting posture and took my hands in hers.
“Arielle, I need to tell you something. You might not like it.” She said, her face turned serious.
“I want to divorce your father.”