Chapter 1
Pipa just turned 21, and since she’d been so busy with school, friends, her job, shopping, I mean damn, who needs a man when she could have fun without one. The only thing was, when she wasn’t in class or at work or with her friends, or shopping, she was all alone. She’d moved to the east coast after her parents died, and she was an only child. Her extended family pretty much didn’t pay her any attention so it was moments like she was having now, that made her dream of having a man and children, a family.
Thanksgiving was a blur since she’d gotten drunk throwing up all over her friend’s bed. She felt horrible for that. They didn’t even invite her for Christmas. There she was staring out of her window when she got an eerie feeling, sending chills throughout her body giving her the shivers. She looked around to see if she could see anyone, but it was too dark if they were hiding in the shadows. She closed her window before turning the TV on and her lights off. She flipped through channels, but nothing she found interested her to watching.
She was distracted by her thoughts and self-pity. She soon snoozed off while still sittng up, remote control in her hand. Snoring while she slept. She was startled by a noise. She jumped out of bed to grab her registered gun. A beautiful single lady, and no family, needs protection. She didn’t know where the noise came from so she stood still holdng her gun trying to listen to hear if it was in her house. She didn’t hear any noise except for her cat. It sounded as though it had trapped itself in the downstairs bathroom.
She began to creep out if her bedroom, slowly opening the door. She tiptoed down the hall, the stairs and through her kitchen. She could hear the cat inside the bathroom, she just hoped he wasn’t injured. As soon as the bathroom door opened, the cat bolted at her trying to get out of there as soon as possible. She noticed that the window had been broken. She stepped back to put her gun down so she could grab the broom instead. When she walked back with the broom, she heard moaning.
She ran back for her gun. She approaches ready to shoot, but didn’t see anyone. She hears it again realizing it’s coming from her shower. She opened the curtain to see a man naked, but he was hurt. She has the gun pointed at him. “What do you want?” The man just groans. Pipa is impatient though. “What the fuck do you want? Before I shoot you?” The man’s eyes almost bulged out of their sockets, and throws his hands up as if they could protect him if she shot at him. “No, no, no! Please don’t shoot! Please!” The man pleads with the young woman.
“Then get the fuck up and get the fuck out of my house.” Pipa wished she had grabbed her phone just then. “You heard me, and do not make any sudden moves. I will not hesitate to shoot you.” Pipa is staring at the man with wild eyes. The man finally looks up at her. “Pipa?” The man begins to shed tears, but it gives Pipa goosebumps. “Pipa, honey, it’s your daddy.” Pipa leans in on the man pointing the gun right into his temple. “My father is dead you creep. Say another word, and I will murder you.” (There’s a pause).
“Now get the fuck up, and get the fuck out of my house.” Pipa’s heart is racing. She is livid. Not only did he break into her home, naked nonetheless, and he had the audacity to speak on her father. Why hadn’t she killed him yet? That’s what was really bothering her. The man begins, “My name is Micheal Alexander Andrews, I married your mother, my wife in 1998, you were born Feb 14, 1999 exactly nine months after we were married. We named you Phoebe Isis Piper Andrews which is why they call you Pipa.
“SHUT UP!!!” Pipa shouts making the man shake, and close his eyes. “Is this some kind of sick joke.” She drills the gun into his head. She’s panicking not knowing what to do. She can’t think. “How could this be possible?” She hadn’t mentioned her father’s name or her name to anyone since she’d moved. Noticing the man was in the same position she’d found him. Was he hurt? Suddenly she got the urge to want to help him if he was. She pushed those feelings aside, but if he was injured he wouldn’t try to act fast like try and do something to her.
“Did you hurt yourself?” She asked him. “I think I twisted my ankle. It hurts to move.” That gives Pipa some relief. She could find something to tie him up, then she could go get her phone to call the police. “Pipa, please believe me.” Pipa stands up carefully, gun still pointed at him. “Since you can’t move...” She runs to her closet grabbing her running shoes. She unlaces them to tie him with the laces. He offers her his hands. “Good girl. You are a lot tougher than I imagined. I am real proud of you pumkin.”
Pipa, for the first time, looks into his eyes. He gently smiles at her with sadness, and gladness, but hoping she believes him. Pipa sensed familiarity. She’d seen pictures of her father when he was younger. He looked like the man who had just broke into her house. Who is he, really? How does he know her, and what does he want? They stared at each other for a while. “How could...?” She’s fighting herself. “There is no way that could be her father... only younger?” She shakes her head out of the gaze and her thoughts.
It is just not possible. There are a lot of look-a-likes in this world. Only this one did a little bit of homework. Suddenly, for some odd reason they remember that he’s still naked. She runs to her couch to grab the throw blanket from her couch. “You still have this? You’re mom started it thinking you were going to be a boy. She finished it for me instead, when we found out it was you, not a boy.” Pipa is just staring at this man who is now telling her stories. She didn’t know her mother had started that blanket for her.
She just figured mom had made one for each of them. “I know, baby. I know this is all too much, but I can’t explain it without sounding crazy. You just have to trust me.” Blinking her eyes, she asks him, “How old were you when you supposedly married my mother?” He doesn’t hesitate to answer. “I was 21.” She blinks a little more dramatic. She runs out again coming back holding a picture frame. She doesn’t say anything, and just hands it to him. He takes the frame into his hands. Once he looks at it, he smiles, but then sadness again sweeps his face.
“I don’t know what’s going on, but you look exactly like that man in that picture. At the same time, when I buried my parents, you, well my father was 39. How the fuck are you here at 21 years old, and not 42, his, or your, actual age?” Instead of answering her question, he says, “I didn’t want to say anthing, but could you please watch the language.” Micheal turned red by the way she looked at him. “Are you fucking serious? FUCK, FUCK, FUCK, FUCK, FUCK! What the fuck is going on, that you’re more worried about me cussing, then me blowing your fucking brains out!”
