Janie {part 2}

Writing- This is the final part to my Janie short story! I wanted it to end this way so you can imagine what will happen with Janie and her dad :) Hopefully that didn't give too much away! I also started a story about a girl Marie, but I only have a little bit so far. Not sure if I should post what I have, or wait until I have more. But, expect to see another post tomorrow! Not sure what, but I guarantee there will be a story up:)

Janie

“What the heck are you doing down here, girl?” he roared. “I’m minding my own business, eating my supper, when I hear a bang. I jump and spill my spaghetti all down my front! Then comes another bang, and I spill yet more!”

“I’m sorry!” Janie cried. “I dropped a peanut butter jar on my toe, and on my way to the bathroom to get some ice I knocked over the coat rack!”

“I’ll take your excuse this time, girl,” he growled, apparently still annoyed. “But I don’t tolerate noise.” He walked out of the room, taking care to slam the door shut behind him. Janie thought she should just be nice to the man; maybe he’s just hurting inside. But, he did just storm into her new home uninvited. Janie got back to unpacking and by the time she was done, all thoughts of the man were out of her head.

The next few weeks the man upstairs was always grumpy and annoyed ant Janie. Maybe he was just lonely. She learned that his name was Peter, and he was an artist. One early Saturday morning, Janie heard Peter and the deliveryman out in the hallway. She hovered by her door, listening.

            “I told you, there is no Emily here!” Peter said gruffly.

            “I’m sorry sir, this package says to an Emily Price.”
             "Well, you got your sources wrong then, because Emily is dead, and has been for the past 5 years! Ever since I left my wife and daughter to marry Emily, she was darn sick and I knew she wouldn't make it too far long into life. Now, go away!"he barked at the man. The man scurried away, and turned the corner. Janie sunk down to the floor. Peter was her father. She knew there was something familiar about him. But, why was he so mean? The man she remembered as her father was much younger, and certainly much kinder. Maybe he just needed to be loved.