Enjoy!!

I ran home. I didn’t want to delay this anymore. I was already thinking of turning back and running into Edward’s waiting arms but I knew I had to do this. I had to mostra Charlie that I wasn’t taking any of his crap. If I had to leave then I would. I got a shock when I saw his incrociatore parked at the house. I was hoping I could pack my case and write a note saying I was leaving. I didn’t really want to do it when he was there. I opened the door as quietly as I could and sneaked inside. I shut the door slowly and carefully so it didn’t creak and tip-toed across to the stairs. I could hear the TV and Charlie breathing. His thoughts didn’t tell me that he had heard me come in. I was at the stairs and I was busy concentrating on Charlie’s thoughts that I forgot to lift my foot. I walked into the bottom stair and fell into the rest.
“Ow!” I hissed, rubbing my shin where I had hit it off the stairs.
“Kayla?” Charlie called. He knew I was there. I wasn’t very good at the creeping around part. I would make a rubbish burglar.
I tried to limp up the stairs quickly but Charlie was off the sofa and in the hallway quicker that I detto ‘Ow!’
“What are te doing home?” he asked, eyeing me suspiciously.
I took in a deep breath trying to think of a lie.
“Have te been crying?” Charlie was looking at my eyes closely.
“No,” I said, wiping my eyes. “I have not been crying.”
“Yes te have.”
“I haven’t!”
I continued limping up the stairs and he followed me. I limped into my room and slammed the door shut before he could follow me inside. I was under my letto when he opened the door and walked in uninvited.
“What are te doing?” he asked.
I crawled out from under my letto dragging my case with me. I lifted it onto the letto and unzipped it.
“What does it look like?” I asked him, opening drawers and pulling out the clothes. I threw them into the case, not caring if they weren’t folded.
“You’re running away with that Cullen boy, aren’t you?” I continued to throw clothes into the case.
I wish.
“No,” I said, emptying the last drawer into my suitcase. “I am not running away with Edward.”
Charlie looked confused. “Then where are te going?”
“Home,” I replied, simply. I pushed past him to the scrivania, reception in the corner. It was littered with some personal belongings I had brought, pictures of me and friends, small ornaments and books. I picked these up and squashed them on superiore, in alto of the clothes.
“You live here,” Charlie said, still confused.
“I’m going back to England,” I detto slowly for him. “That is where home is.”
“Is he going with you?”
“What would he eat? There is no wildlife in London!”
I zipped the suitcase up and lifted it off the bed.
“Bye.” I walked past him and down the stairs. I was had the door half open when Charlie appeared from no where. He slammed the door shut and stood in front of it.
“You’re going no where,” he growled. “You’re staying here.”
“The hell I am!” I screamed at him and tried to push him aside but it was like pushing a brick wall. I hated it that he had become like me. It made fighting him a whole lot harder.
He grabbed my arm and dragged me and my suitcase into the living-room. He pushed me on the sofa and snatched my case. He threw it at the bacheca but knocking over the lamp in the corner as well. The lamp crashed to the floor but did not shatter. Whereas my suitcase slightly dented the bacheca and burst open sending my clothes and stuff cascading onto the carpet.
“You are not leaving,” Charlie growled. “You will sit there and te will stay there.”
“I will not,” I snarled at him. I stood up, determined to leave this house with o without my belongings, but he just forced me back down.
“Stay.” He spoke to me like I was a disobedient dog. He was pointing his finger at me and I had an urge to snap my teeth at him, just like a dog.
“Now how did te think te were going to get to London?” Charlie asked me. He began to pace up and down.
“A plane.”
“How would te have paid for a ticket?”
I thought for a moment. I had no money, like I had told Edward. How would I have paid for a ticket?
“Mum,” I answered. “She would give me the money.”
“How will te get the money from Stephanie?”
“Bank card.”
“You have an American bank card.”
I nodded.
“Mum gave me one ages fa if I ever needed money when I was here visiting you.”
He was pacing, trying to think of più questions. He thought I hadn’t thought this through properly. I was simply recitazione on impulse. Yes, I was recitazione on impulse but it doesn’t mean I wouldn’t have been able to answer these domande on the way. I wasn’t a complete idiot.
I stood up. I wasn’t going to answer any più of his questions. I was leaving. Now.
He whipped round and shoved me back down again.
“YOU ARE NOT GOING, KAYLA!”
“I AM!” I screamed at him.
“YOU WILL NOT DISOBEY ME!” Charlie’s face was beetroot red with the force of his shout. “I AM YOUR FATHER AND te WILL TREAT ME WITH RESPECT!”
“YOU HAVE TO EARN RESPECT TO GET IT! YOU’VE BEEN A JERK SINCE BILLY TOLD te ABOUT EDWARD!”
“I AM PROTECTING YOU!”
“FROM WHAT?”
“BLOOD-SUCKING PARASITES!”
“THEY DRINK ANIMAL BLOOD, te IMBECILE! OTHERWISE BILLY WOULDN’T LET THEM STAY HERE!”
That indescribable rage that had erupted in school suddenly flamed up. I had no control now on my temper. I exploded. I was screaming at Charlie and he was shouting back. Our voices were so loud I heard the window panes shake in their wooden frames. I was fuming, I was angry, I was furious. At that moment I think I actually hated Charlie. He was taking away the only thing that mattered to me – Edward.
I moved my hand. A simple gesture to emphasis my rage. I had no idea that my subconscious mind had an ulterior motive. The lamp that Charlie had knocked over with my suitcase flew up in the air and hit Charlie on the side of the head. Charlie stopped shouting mid-sentence and his eyes went unfocused. He dropped like a stone to the floor and lay unmoving. The lamp crashed successivo to him and this time it did shatter. I let my hand fall to the floor and I stared at Charlie. The rage left me as quickly as it had came and was replaced da fear. Crimson was cascading from a point on the side of his head. It started to form a pool successivo to his pale face. I lifted my feet off the carpet and stood up on the sofa. I knew that I should call an ambulance. I knew Charlie needed medical attention. But I couldn’t do anything. I was still staring at him. I had done this. I could be the cause of my father’s death. I sat on the back on the couch, my eyes still on Charlie.
I didn’t hear the running feet until they were in the living-room. I looked at them and three pairs of golden eyes looked back. There wasn’t any horror in their eyes as to what greeted them on the floor. There was no surprise either.
“I didn’t mean to,” I spoke softly. “I didn’t mean to.”