Pitch Black

"Where are you going?" she asked her father. He was wearing a decent pair of jeans and a clean shirt, he also smelt nonalcoholic, a good thing. Maybe he's gonna look for a job, she thought looking at his newly shaved face. The girl wanted a taste of freshly baked loaf, a treat her father gives her after getting a new job. Though he never stay long in any, three months was the most, for he always got fired by coming late and drunk.

 The father dismissed the question of the girl and got out of the house without a word. He couldn't even graze a single glance at her daughter. It was too much, it was like looking at the exact image of his wife at that age. He bid away the unshed tears as he slowly took the curved road.

Maybe it was the time of the month then, the girl thought once more looking at the retreating back of his father through the window. He would visit her mother for sure. He always looked best when he did. She jumped down the window and hopped to her room. She would be waiting for him till dark, her father always take his time. Usually, he was sad too.

The father was hugging his own body, protecting it from the chills. The air was unnaturally frigid the same as always, this time of the year. He walked the darkening path through their home. The neighborhood was eerily quiet, thus he could hear even from afar, the chuckling of her daughter. He put up a hammock on one of the trees, using a spare tire, a long time ago. A peeve for her late wife. He could see his daughter swinging happily, arms raised in the air. A smile appeared on his lips, she's a kid after all. His hands moved tighter around his body, this shouldn't be this cold, he thought coming closer to their house.

He stopped. Taken aback at the scene before him. The tire was moving nonstop like there was an unknown force that kept on pushing it. His daughter's giggling somehow crept him. Something was offed with her.

The swinging stopped, his daughter jumped down from the tire and glanced at him for a brief second then came running inside the house. He swore, he saw her eyes, black as charcoal. Massaging his temple, he dismissed it, maybe he was just drunk. He had two on the way home.

He went inside, the door creaked as he did. Small steps can be heard from the stairs. His daughter came into view, eyes puffy red from sleep. "I didn't hear you coming, when have you come back?" asked her daughter in a hoarse voice.

The little hairs on his back stand in ovation as a cold wind swept through his entire body.

Author's Note: Heyah! What's up guys?