HERE IT IS. THE FIFTH UPDATE OF MY FIVE DAY IN A ROW UPDATING SCHEDULE.

NO, THIS IS NOT THE END OF THE BOOK.

LITERALLY THOUGH, MY HEART WAS POUNDING AS I WAS WRITING THIS WHOLE CHAPTER. I LITERALLY FEEL FEAR FOR HER IDK WHY

Chapter Nine

The three hour ride in a police car was one of the most anxiety filled times I've ever experienced. In fact, if my worst enemy were to want to torture me, this is the best way to do it.

It was silent, and incredibly awkward at first, though I assumed everyone from ten mile radius could hear the sound of my heart pounding against my chest. I kept thinking about what I'd have to say, the moment I see my father.

Oh shit. What would Mariah do?

She was for sure going to slap me back to hell where I was created.

The officer driving, actually tried to spark up some conversation. It wasn't any of his business for any of the questions he asked, but, honestly, I didn't care anymore.

He sighed, "So, why'd you do it?"

I kept my gaze out the window, "Do what?"

He scoffed, "Like you don't know. Runaway. That takes a lot of guts."

"How do you know I ran away? I could have been abducted."

"You and me both know, that ain't the truth."

I rolled my eyes, "Well, fine. I don't expect you to understand anyway."

"You being abused at home?"

"Does mentally count?"

He shook his head, "No, no it don't." He paused for a moment, before speaking up, "Let me guess, your father, leader of a well-known band, may choose alcohol over you, or brings home a few prostitutes, I get the picture, and I get why you'd wanna leave."

"No." I stated firmly, "No, that's not it at all."

His eyes widened a bit as he stared at me through the mirror, "Then what it is? Care to tell?"

I shook my head, and he shrugged. "Fine. I respect privacy, but I'm pretty sure your daddy won't. You better think about how you're going to spill the truth with him, because I've found a lot of runaway children in my time, and the parents, well, privacy isn't on their mind."

Yeah. I was going to die. It took a lot of strength not to bash my head into the window repeatedly.

The car eventually came to a stop at the police station. The officer led me out of the car, and into the building, where I was told I'd wait here until I was picked up by my family. I was told I'd be inspected by a local doctor, who will make sure I'm okay, physically, and mentally. A psychiatrist was also called in, and asked me a load of questions that weren't relevant in any way.

"How are you?"

"How long have you wanted to run away?"

"Were you planning on ever coming back home?"

"Does anyone else know you were going to runaway?"

Stupid questions like that.

The doctor came in and asked if I was being physically abused by any of my family members, which I replied no, but I don't think she believed me. She asked for me to take off my shirt anyway, because she wanted to make sure I wasn't hiding any scars, or marks that could of been created by being beaten. As uncomfortable as it was, I obeyed.

After she officially confirmed that I was fine, she told me to put on my shirt -which I did faster than ever before- and stood up. "Well, you're all finished here. Your father has been here for about an hour now." She stated simply, "I wanted to inspect you before handing you back over to him. I hope you don't mind, but it was a necessary precaution."

My heart sank.

"He's here?" I asked, nearly trembling my words, "Now?"

She nodded, though I think she noticed my fear. A small, sympathetic smile formed on her lips, "I understand it's scary. Of all the runaway kids I've looked after, they all show that similar look of fear in their eyes, when they hear their families are just outside the door." She put her hand on my shoulder, "Though, they soon forget about being afraid, the moment their family embraces them in their arms."

"It's different with me and my dad." I said sternly, "He and I don't hug."

"You'll be surprised."

I snorted, "What makes you so sure?"

She chuckled, as she took the rubber gloves, off her hands. "Because the man has been pacing the room out there since the moment he got here, if that isn't a sign of worry, then I don't know what is."

I sighed, "You sure I can't just jump out the window and runaway right now?"

"I think, if you have the guts to runaway, you have the guts to face your father."

I really didn't.

She put her arm around my shoulders, and lead me to the door. I took a deep breath, nearly on the verge of passing out.

She opened the door, and we both walked through. I instantly spotted him, leaning against a wall, staring at the floor tapping his foot rapidly, as if he was incredibly anxious.

The moment we walked in, his head shot up rapidly and stared at me. His eyes widened as we held eye-contact, and for a sudden moment, I wondered if I truly looked like shit, considering I haven't showered, nor have I brushed my hair the whole time I was gone.

I looked up at the doctor, as if mentally asking her to help me, but she smiled, and backed away, "I'll leave you two alone." She said kindly, as she walked back out of the room, and shut the door.

No, that was the opposite of what I was trying to ask.  I said help me, not leave me.

I glanced back up at my father, who awkwardly stood there as if he didn't know what to do or say.

"You look like shit." He finally said, as he cleared his throat. "Complete shit."

I nodded, not even surprised at his first comment. 

"You don't look too good yourself." I said with a bit of a smirk, but quickly dropped it when I realized the serious look he had on his face.

I was about to say something else, to break the tension, but I was completely caught of guard as grabbed me, and pulled into his arms, hugging so tightly I couldn't breathe.

"Goddamn it, Aria, do you know how fucking worried I was?" His voice cracked, as if he were crying, but I was too scared to look him in the eye, because deep down, I knew he was. I've never seen him cry before, I couldn't handle this.

Holy shit, holy shit.

I slowly wrapped my hands around him, knowing it'd be even more awkward if I didn't hug him back.

"Sorry." I said not really having any sort of clue what else I should say. My heart was pounding, and that was all I could find myself focusing on.

He slowly let go of me, and shook his head.  And just like that, I knew things were back to normal, or as normal as things can get after a situation like this one. "Let's just get home." He backed up, but kept his hand on my shoulder the whole time, like he didn't want to let me go, which was incredibly weird, and sort of freaked me out,  "Seriously though." He coughed awkwardly, "You uhh, you smell and look like shit."

I agreed with him, and together, we both left the building.