Chapter 18

** Megan**

An hour has never felt so long to me in my whole life. I can feel this terrible vibe coming from him, as if he is angry at me for something, and I don't know what.

We’re in his car, and the only thing that makes a noise is the humming sound of the engine and the radio that is down so low I can hardly hear it. I turn my head to look at him to see if his expression has changed, but it hasn't.

He sits with one hand on the wheel while the other up to his mouth, pressing against his lips. His fingers move against his lip, and then his frown deepens. It scares me a little, to be honest.

"You can drop me off here if you like," I say, as I don't want to be near him if he is angry at me.

"Why? When Melanie's house is about 15 minutes away from here?" he asks.

"I can walk," I say, drifting my gaze from my lap to the window to see it is heavily raining.

"I'm not going to let you walk in this," he states, referring to the rain.

"Ok," I say with a nod and keep my gaze on my lap.

A few minutes pass, and we are at the end of Melanie's street. Melanie is standing with an umbrella, looking a little mad at me.

"She seems mad," he states as he pulls up at the side of the curb.

"Urm, yeah..."I turn to look at him to see him now looking at me "Thanks," I say with a small smile. He lifts his hand from the steering wheel and places it on my cheek. His fingers trail along my cheek, and he slowly moves a bit of my hair behind my ears. "I should..." I start to say once I see him leaning forward a little. I move back slightly and move my head away from him. Then back again to see him still looking at me "Mr Peters," I say quietly. A part of me wants him to kiss me for some reason, but another part of me wants to cry a little, and that part is taking over.

He quickly sits back against his seat and takes his hand off me, "Sorry," he mutters. I give him a small smile to tell him it is ok. Then open his car door and get out giving him a quick glance. I'm so sure he was going to kiss me just then, but then again it wouldn't have been the first time we have kissed. It would have been however the first time he has kissed me as I have kissed him on both occasions and I do feel a bit embarrassed by it.

I climb out of the car and look at Melanie. She gives me a small smile. I sigh slightly as I can tell this is what we are going to be like for the next couple of days. We always are when we’ve had a little argument.

"You got ice cream at home?" I ask her. She smiles and moves to the side a little so I can get under the umbrella.

"Chocolate chip" she states. I link my arm with hers, give a quick wave to Mr Peters and then walk with Melanie to her house.

~*~

Melanie and I are both sitting in her room watching ‘The Ring’ while eating ice cream and making fun of the movie. We aren't people who get easily scared, and we find it fun watching scary movies that aren't scary. We did have to suffer an awkward silence every few minutes due to the fact Melanie wants to say something to me and I do want to tell her what happened between me and Mr Peters.

"I'm sorry," she says suddenly. "I didn't mean what I said." She quietly says.

"It's fine," I say, sitting up.

"No, it's not because...I shouldn't have said it. It's obvious what he is doing to you when you don't get through a night at mine without having a nightmare," she states. It is true I would sleep at hers and wake half of her house up by screaming in my sleep. "I am really sorry...and you cannot forgive me till you have punished me," she says, determined I should punish her.

"Urm...ok, how about no chocolate for a week?" I ask with a raised eyebrow.

"Oh no," she says with a distressed look. "I like it, yes, that will be my punishment...and you have to eat chocolate in front of me," she adds. I chuckle and look at her. "The next week is going to be torture," she cries while laying her head on her pillow.

"I’m going to tell him," I say quietly. She shot up like she had been electrocuted. "I'm going to tell my father what he's been doing, and hopefully, he'll get help"

"What do you mean to tell him? He should already know what he's doing" she frowns.

"Well, it's weird because the next morning, if he notices a bruise or a cut, he asks questions like: How did you get that bruise? Who hit you? And are you being bullied?" I pause and take a deep breath. "So lately, I've just been saying it's been PE, or I go with the bullied excuse," I state.

She sighs quietly. "Why? Why doesn't he remember?" she asks.

"I don't know, he just doesn't; it's like two of him sometimes. I mean, I've told you the differences in his behaviour," I tell her.

Her eyes widen a little as if she has figured something out, "I'll be right back," she says getting up and walking out of her room. Five minutes later, she walks back in and sits back on her bed, placing a book on her lap.

"My mom bought me this book ages ago as I told her I wanted to be a psychologist like her...that was like a year ago. changed my mind now, though," she says with a small smile, "but anyway, I've read this book about ten times, so..." she trails off and starts flicking through the book. Then, she stops about a quarter of the way through. "Now, given the things you've said about your dad's behaviour, it says here he could either be Bipolar, or he could have MPD," she says, going through the book with her index finger.

"Yeah, one of those,"

"What's MPD?" I ask.

"Multiple Personality Disorder," she pauses, "It is also known as DID 'Dissociative identity disorder' it says here that the disorder occurs mostly in people who have been abused or sexually abused in childhood," I look at her once I notice her looking at me, "has your dad ever had that?"

"Well, apparently, something happened to him and his friend when he was about seven, but no one talks about it," I state.

"Well, that may be what made him the way he is," she then pauses. "It also says that the side effects are:

• Multiple mannerisms, attitudes and beliefs that are not similar to each other

• Unexplainable headaches and other body pains

• Distortion or loss of subjective time

• Depersonalisation

• Derealization

• Severe memory loss

• Depression

• Flashbacks of abuse/trauma

• Unexplainable phobias

• Sudden anger without a justified cause

• Lack of intimacy and personal connections

• Frequent panic/anxiety attacks

• Auditory hallucinations of the personalities inside their mind."

My eyes widened a little "Is he like that?" she asks.

"Yeah, a little," I pause and think a little. "I haven't seen him scared of anything just yet,"

"But the thing is, it also says it is common to show in the person's late teens." She pauses, "Is he drinking every time he's, you know, hitting you?" I shake my head at her question. "Ok, well, just look out for these, and if he matches ten of them, then I'd say he has it...I'll ask my mom about it," she states, closing the book.

"Now let's move on, I'm getting depressed," she states. I chuckle slightly and sheepishly agree. I can't precisely concentrate the whole evening as the same question runs through my head. Would he believe what I'm going to tell him?