Hell Sweet, Kayla

4

Tossing around my food on the plate watching my parents deeply engross with their phones like they did not drag me out to this fancy restaurant in the first place to have our so called family bond.

After the years, I do not know why we keep playing this game when it is obvious no one wants to do this anymore.

We could have just stayed in the mansion and let Aisha make one of her favorites dish for dinner but no, they just had to drag me for the sake of what people will think. Once again choosing them over me.

I try so hard to understand where they are coming from and to be that proud daughter of a wealthy family but it got boring.

If Dad is not planning a new tech invention, he is on world power meetings.

And mum, she is hosting one ball or auction for her foundation.

I clear my throat. “So, mum, how was Barbados?” Slowly her eyes finally look away from her phone to me wearing the prettiest smile on her red stain lip.

In a blink, my eyes did a rough estimate of her hundred-thousand-dollar outfit; ranging from her set of jewelry piece to white fur scarf, her matching Versace purse and heels and finally her silk white dress handcrafted for her all the way from China.

She looks like an angel if you ask me.

Despite all these my mum has on she is hands down the prettiest woman I have seen with or without her million-dollar wardrobe. Her smile radiates from chin to chin showing off pearly whites as golden skin gleams under the luminance.

“Very well sweetie. As a matter of fact, my foundation will be hosting another ball by the end of the season so we can raise money for the children out there who needs us.” I nod watching her switch her attention back to her phone.

“By the way, mummy will need your help with the auctioning.” She throws in.

So much for a conversation.

Shifting my gaze to dad who looks bored by the looks of it; probably will love being anywhere but here with us. Taking a bite, I suddenly regret my action wishing I did not eat.

Not that the food tastes bad but I lost my appetite hence the bland taste. “Uhm, Dad I will be taking a vacation this break. School. Project. Stuff.” Blurting the last part out.

Quietly placing his fork and knife down wiping his lip with a napkin. “Don’t tell me your mother and I came all the way home for you and you are flying out.” He says irritated.

I never want them home; neither did I beg for them to force me out here. I am perfectly capable of taking care of me for me. Like I have always been doing it solo.

To show how bad it is, they have to ask our butler or chef about their daughter’s wellbeing.

My gaze upon his in a standoff. “For a moment there I almost felt you suddenly care or even notice me, Dad.” Scoffing.

“Kayla!” mum scolds. “You will watch your language when talking to your father.”

Slapping my napkin hard on the table. “I do not wish to ruin your dinner so I’m going home. Thank you for dinner.”

Not waiting any further I snatch my purse and keys towards my ride shunning onlookers who watch me stomp out of the restaurant.

I was angry and boiling seeing shaky hands cling to the wheel, squeezing till I felt the blood drain out of my palms. “How dare he?” Angrily wiping a tear off my eyes.

“How dare the both of them?” This time it became blurry to see the streets clear at the speed I went with.

Gone were those years I will cry my baby self to sleep all because I thought something in me made them never want to spend time with me.