THE PICTURE OF YOU -rafe cameron-

022; altercation

Myra awoke the next day to a roar of commotion coming from the other side of her bedroom door. She sat up abruptly in her bed, hearing something that sounded like glass being chattered into a million pieces against a wall. She could hear indistinguishable muttering, recognizing it to be her father's voice. Myra brushed her messy hair out of her face before she rolled the covers off of her legs and swung them over the edge of her bed. Her bare feet soon touched the old wooden floorboards in her room just as she heard another sharp glass shattering notice.

Myra dragged her feet across the floor, carefully opening her bedroom door before poking her head out. She couldn't see him, her father, but she could hear him a little louder now, so she continued out into the small fishing shack she called home. "Dad?" she called out gently, not wanting to startle him, she knew how he could be, "are you okay?"

It didn't take long for Luke to show up before her, his chest heaving and his eyes wide with rage. He looked frazzled and to be in a daze of some kind. Myra blinked her eyes with a clear sensation of stress now welling up inside of her. She took a step back as she so clearly recognized this kind of demeanour upon her father, for she had seen it so many times before. He was angry and upset, just about to loose his mind again. He got like this, a lot, yet Myra could never seem to figure out as to why. Scrambling from penny to penny had never seemed to bother her father too much, and he truly felt at home at their little place. He had never complained about it at least, or rarely spoked badly the small place. He was carefree to some degree, but then something would snap inside of him, and she didn't know what or why.

"Did you take it?" Luke hissed, getting even closer to his daughter. Myra gazed up at him, seeing the faint tone of red left in his eyes. She wasn't sure if he was high right now, but if he wasn't then he had surely been last night. The evidence was left lingering around his tired body. "Take what?" she asked a little confused, having just woken up. "I had a bottle of vodka and three beers on that table right there" her father spoke loudly, pointing his index finger towards their old  wooden dinner table, "and now they're gone, they're all gone"

Myra felt herself freeze up, her shoulders tensing and her heart beating fast inside of her chest. She was guilty, for once, but she didn't want to let him know that. About sixty percent of the time when her father would accuse her of something she hadn't done anything, but sometimes she was as guilty as one could be. It's times like this, when she felt as though it was better to lie than to let him know the truth. "I'm sorry dad, I haven't seen that stuff" Myra spoke as clearly as she could, standing still. She had gotten pretty good at lying over the years, but she was nowhere as skilled as her older brother was. She hoped that her father would buy into whatever she claimed, thinking that he just drank it himself last night without remembering. But that didn't happen, of course. No, Luke was relentless and in a frenzy. He needed things like alcohol and drugs to function properly, or at least that's what it felt like to Myra. It had been like that for years.

"One of you little shits took it, I know you did" Luke hissed, his voice growing angrier and louder as he spoke. Myra could feel his hot breath sting against her cold skin. He stank of alcohol and cigarette smoke. "Dad, I haven't done anything, I haven't taken anything from you" Myra croaked out, trying to keep her gaze upwards. She knew how much her dad hated when she averted her gaze during one of their conversations, he couldn't stand the way she tried to escape him by looking down at her shoes. It only infuriated him further, and she wanted to avoid that. "Don't lie to me" Luke spat, grabbing ahold of Myra's chin, "don't you even dare you ungrateful shit". She gasped at the sudden touch, only making his grip firmer. "I don't know what you're talking about..." Myra trailed, clenching her jaw nervously. She felt stuck in a uncomfortable situation, but she had only herself to blame. After all, she had created this for herself by stealing that bottle like a fool yesterday. And now she had no way out of it. "I said... don't lie to me" Luke repeated, his angry voice turning into a loud yell, "now where is it?"