Knock ‘em Down Drag ‘em Out Attempt One:

This wasn’t long after all the bone-crushing hugs, searching gazes, and checking me over for obvious broken bones or bites. We were in the kitchen. I was nursing a hot drink, and my leg was jiggling like crazy under the table, making the floor squeak. I knew it drove dad crazy.

I don’t have to ask you if you know the drill, right?

I tried not to let the eye-roll show in my voice. We go out, we go around, neutralize any threats, come back in. Weapons accessible, radios on, tower and sniper back up.

So what in God’s name happ-

Didn’t take me long to lose my shit. I know. I fucking know, all right?

He scrubbed his hand across his face. He sighed. We have been doing this for long enough, it shouldn’t have happened. You are far better trained and prepared than we ever were. 

I am 15 for fuck’s sake (oh, boy, was the swear jar gonna cop it tonight) I am so sorry that I don’t meet your high expectations of a child born into the apocalypse!

 What I wanted to say was, you can be a racing car driver, but it doesn’t mean you can’t be in an accident on the way to the store. When I was little, you were always on the race-track. Us? We get to rev our engines at a stop-sign sometimes, but that’s it. We don’t know constant fight or flight. And yeah. We got sloppy, or complacent or whatever.

What I did say contained lots more bad words and got less and less coherent. You think you’re the bloody Lord of the End of the World, bloody expert, if it is so awful and dangerous why do you send us out there? I might have even chucked a why won’t you tell me how mom died? in for good measure. By then there was ugly crying and snot. He didn’t bite.

He looked at me for a long time. You’re right. I forget how old you are, how things are different now. I gaped at him my brain stuttering. Why wouldn’t he just fight with me? Tell me what I wanted to know? I think I may have growled as I stood up, tipping my chair over. The whole place shook with my impotent door slam.

Knock ‘em Down Drag ‘em Out Attempt Two:

I am not going.

Jay. We are not discussing this.

I can’t.

You can.

Her parents, Jeremy – I can’t –

They are okay, they understand what happened.

They might be okay but it doesn’t mean I am!

You will pay your respects. That’s final.

Do you realize how fucking sick it is for Hayley’s murderer to be at her funeral? Out of the corner of my eye, I say Dep’s eyes widen. Uh oh. Now I had done it. Too far, too far! But it was out of my mouth.

Firstly, you did NOT murder her. God, trust him to defend me in the middle of this!

Um, I did it, I am pretty sure I can call it what I want.

That is not how this thing works!

Sorry dad. It is official. I am a murderess. Dep made cutting motions across his throat with his hand. He knew I was pushing dad’s buttons now. But why couldn’t he see that this wasn’t so simple to me?

You were her best friend. You. Are. Going.

Am. Not.

Again with the staring. I could see a vein standing out on his forehead.

Miss Murder I said, pointing both thumbs back at myself, is staying home.  Dep had closed his eyes and was shaking his head.

Go to your room! Dad roared. It would have been kinda scary but for by Dep’s snort of mirth. I know, right? 15 year-old trained weapon being sent to her room? Whatever.

I raised an eyebrow at him. I will be in my room if you need me. No door slamming this time.