Clementine had become a wild child. Born in America but raised abroad, she now had little regard for the expectations of high society. But her reckless ways eventually catch up with her when she is kicked out of college in New York City and forced t...
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101
The rest of the week, Clementine felt an unexplainable weight, pressing on her chest. The top of her head. She had dark thoughts circling her mind. Thoughts she would never act on, but nevertheless, disturbed her with their recurrence.
Kill yourself.
Clementine was aghast at the information that was relayed to her.
It was like the carpet was pulled out from under her, only to discover that there was never a ground, and that she was all alone. Alone in her principles. Except, now, of course, she wasn't even sure what those were anymore.
There were times she would close her eyes, and feel herself as if she was emerging form underneath rough waters, gasping for air.
She tired to mediate. She though about talking to someone, but then, this wasn't exactly the kind of information you would casually throw about.
Hey doc, I feel little sad, oh and by the way, turns out my dad's a mafia boss. And my ex of a boyfriend is kind of like, his enemy.
No, that wouldn't do.
She couldn't even dance, really. Not being able to find in herself the uplifting energy required for such an activity. Once lifting her up to the cosmos, she was in a dark place.
There were several actions she could take, but patience was the hardest one of them all.
So she decided to keep laying low, observing her parents in the house. Trying to figure out who the enemy was. If there was an enemy. She was bored and tired, and waiting for some miracle to happen.
But mostly, she was angry the most about how everything in her day now was being overshadowed by her inner thoughts - the inner pain and anguish she felt. The disturbance of it all.
It was only at dinner, later the week, that her mother remarked: "Is everything OK, Clementine?"
Taking her by surprise.
There was moment - only so brief - that she almost broke, but not wanting to keep the silence too long, she replied, doing her best to sound casual. "Yes, why wouldn't it be?"
"I don't know. You just seem a little...off. Lately. Doesn't she seem to be a little off Rodrigo?" Her mother asked her father, as if Clementine wasn't even there. But her father seems to be even more lost in thought than Clementine.
She knew he got like this during big 'business' meetings, but nw she as afraid to think what that would even mean, given the circumstance.
"Que?" Her father was shaken out of his daydream momentarily then as if trying to get back to Earth, he looked at Clementine nonchalantly, and said "she's fine. Just bored." Her father took a forkful of gnocchi, and continued after his sip of wine: "This is whyI gave her the option to leave. Back to New York." His hands clasped under his chin.
"What?" Her mother asked if hearing about this for the first time, and something flickered across her father's eyes, like he said something he shouldn't have.
Clementine peered into his eyes, and couldn't help but notice that something looked different. She knew his eyes so well, was it possible that she was seeing something. Like he was changed from the inside. Not haunted, but close.
"I, uh, gave Clemetnine a ticket. Just in case, she wanted to come back earlier. I have connections at Columbia, honey, you know that." Rodrigo causally said, and Clemeitne thought takes one to know one. A liar.
"Rodrigo," her mother said through her teeth with a different tone altogether, "I thought we talked about this and I thought we were settled. She's staying here."
"Oh, come on, we can't keep her barred here forever." Her father retorted diplomatically.
"Yes, but if she goes back to early the same thing is going to happen!" Her mother's voice rising frantically. "At least she's safe here!"
What same thing? Clementine thought. First, she as convinced her mother was just embraced by her flunking out, but now she realized she may actually have been genuinely concerned this whole time.
Of course, she was concerned. She's her mother.
"Safe?!" Her father brought Clementine back to the conversation, scoffing, and taking big sip of wine. "I'm done here." He got up and went into his study, a sign that nobody better disturb him now.
"Probably to take a drink fo something stiffer and plan his next master ploy," Clementine said quietly under her breath, still holding a grudge against him.
"What?" Her mother, turning towards her now asked sharply.
Of course she knows, Clementine thought, she has to know.
Once again, Clemntine hesitated, thinking she should come clean, but decided against it.
