-*| The Cursed World |*-

Chapter Two: Father

My older sister, Clover, comes running into the room. "Dad's home!" She cries; jumping with excitement.

She takes me by the hand and pulls me out of the bathroom. We practically fly down the stairs. I have got to say — She's a lot more excited about this than I am.

I'm a little worried. I don't really know my father too much. What I do know is that he really doesn't like dirty-coats, but my mom said that I'm not one, and yet I have to wear a wig.

Clover has not commented on my hair at all. Granted, Clover wouldn't look at anyone too hard. She focuses more on you as a person, not you, as in your looks. She probably didn't even notice a change.

I trip down the last couple steps, and land with a small crash on our wooden floor. Clover starts laughing like that is the funniest thing she's seen all day. It probably is. I give her a loud scowl, and furrow my eyebrows.

There is a man at the door that I distinctly recognize. He has gingery hair that is gelled back, and hard green eyes. Clover's eyes hold a particular lightness to them, while his are cold, like our mother's eyes; from seeing unforgettable events.

He's our father, I know that. This is the first time I've met him in person, and not through pictures. He has met with my sister plenty of times, though. I'm not really sure why he meets with her more than me, but that doesn't matter.

He stares at me with this cold look. A lot colder than some of the looks my mother gave me that one time I dropped a plate on the floor.

He then stalks over to me, and whacks my hand with this stick-thing. "Get up."

Obediently, I do get up. Besides some of the servants, who my mother has pointed out are dirty-coats, I have not really been around any men. Our household isn't the typical fashioned home, as I don't have any brothers. Only having girls is a sign of weakness, and I guess he doesn't like that.

"Fauna," He calls down my mom. I don't really hear her being referred to as her name, and not just 'mom' from anyone but the servants and maids.

She hurries down the stairs, and pats Clover on the head on her way down. "Yes?"

He points to my eyes, "Is there a way you can fix that? They're quite hideous."

I gasp, but nod. I guess my eyes aren't really that pure, as the rest of my family has blue or green eyes.

She looks at me, before mumbling a no. Clover blurts out, "What's wrong with her eyes?"

He just smiles at Clover, and hands her a small gift. She gets distracted by her earlier question, and runs off; in a fit of giggles. Clover does love her gifts.

"Do I get one?" I ask.

He stalks over to me, and shoves my head up. Then he tilts my head from side to side. I look at him with confusion, and a growing part of me wishes to pull away from him. Something about my father seems off. He yanks out a strand of my dark hair, and gave an exaggerated sigh.

"What are you doing?" I throw another query at him.

He yanks on the strand a couple more times. I wince; I feel my eyes brimming with tears. I instinctively take a step back. He pulls me back by those few hairs, and yanks them out in the process.

With the dark hair in his large hands, he walks over to my mother. "Not mine."