Good isn't perfect [c.e] | 18+ a Chris Evans fanfic

32 | Drugs

TRIGGER WARNING - DRUGS AND MENTION OF SUICIDE

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Friday, August 22nd, 5:30 pm, Two months later

Caroline Danielsen

"You useless child," I could feel the sting of my father's hand on my cheek. "You can't do anything right, can you?" The force of his hand had sent me falling to the floor. I placed a hand over my burning cheek, trying to keep the tears away. He didn't like it when I cried.

"Are you crying?" He was standing over me, ready to throw another punch in my direction if I started to cry. I shook my head. "Nei," My lips trembled giving me away. "I'm sorry, I will do it right this time."

"Just have the dinner ready by six." He left me alone in the kitchen, probably to go get high again.

My last two months had been the same. Wake up early to make my father breakfast, go to work, from eight to quarter past five, go straight home and make dinner for him, with no detours, then go to sleep, and repeat. It often resulted in me getting slapped, hit, or if I was lucky a kick to my stomach. Today the winning prize was a slap, for burning the dinner. I got myself back on my feet before walking over to the stove to start over.

I turned on the stove and let the water boil before I found myself an icepack in the freezer and placed it on my cheek. I let my tears silently fall. I miss Chris. I just hoped he was doing better than me. He had to, that was the only reason I was still alive. He was the reason I kept on fighting every day. I also hoped he would understand.

I got the dinner ready just in time. I served my father a plate before I started with the dishes. The leftovers from the dinner I put in containers and placed them in the refrigerator. "I'm going to bed, daddy." I walked towards the door before Frank stopped me.

"Come give your old man a good night hug." I walked straight over to him, bent down, and gave him what I thought was going to be a quick hug. He had other plans. His hand went between my legs, placing his hand on my crotch. I was able to tear myself from him and ran to my bedroom. The only place I could be alone.

It was okay that he touched me. He was high and drunk. He didn't know what he was doing. It was okay.

Frank had told me that it was okay. That this was how it was supposed to be. I didn't know about anything else. This was what I had been learnt from a very young age.

I trusted my dad. He was my hero. He couldn't do anything wrong, could he? He was a good man. A really good man.

Right before I was about to turn the lights off, my phone rang, and Chris' name showed up on the screen. I had to physically stop myself from answering him. I just sat there, looking at the screen and watching it ring before it stopped. Tears streamed down my face, I only cried when I was alone after I was supposed to be sleeping. The phone lit up again and Chris' name showed up again. I let it go to voicemail. It took only a few seconds before he called again. "Can't you just stop?" I mumbled to myself while I curled up on the bed. I knew he was going to be calling five more times. Each night he called me seven times.

It didn't matter if I turned my phone on silent or not, I knew he was calling. And that was hard enough. If he could just stop. I can't think clearly if he kept calling, and I need to keep my head clear to be able to do what I had to do.

Chris Evans

He had been searching for Caroline since the moment he found out that she had left. He had called Emma but she didn't know where she was. Either she was lying, or she didn't know where Caroline's whereabouts were.