The Player Next Door.

Chapter 9// Spanish Fiesta

Chapter 9// Spanish Fiesta.

"Excuse me, who?" I asked mom.

"Your dad!" She shouts and I flinch. "Your dad, Riley! Your dad..." she starts sobbing again and cries more.

I wasn't really sure if I should cry like mom, or just sit there doing nothing. I mean, if you felt sadness you'd cry. If you felt happy you'd smile or laugh. But what about if you felt...nothing? Just nothing?

It's like as if my feelings were perfectly, evenly balanced. And both voices in my head fought.

Why isn't she crying? Wow, she's definitely heartless.

She's not heartless. How would she cry over a dead man that almost killed her?

Still, he was her dad after all.

Still, he was going to be a murderer after all.

In the end, he's her dad!

Do I look like I care?

You should!

I only care for her own good. Family doesn't mean people have to be related with blood.

That was the last thing I heard before I shook my head to get rid of the thoughts. Even if I wanted to cry, there was no lump in my throat or tears stinging my eyes. I felt like...blank? Is that what it's called?

"So it's okay with you?" Mom cries.

"What's okay with me?" I ask, really confused.

"His death. It's something that you wished, right?"

"N-no, I-"

"Don't make up any excuses. Go to your room."

"But I-"

"I said go to your room." She points to the door.

Just as I get out, the door slams shut. But I did hear a word that made me really angry.

"Heartless."

***

After I slammed my door shut, I felt like I wanted to throw something. Throw anything. Just let the anger out before I break a window. Anything-

The locket.

A voice says that made me freeze. The locket? Why the locket?

It was the one your dad gave you.

Dad gave me? Where is it?

You wore it for way too long that you didn't even feel it around your neck.

My hand automatically goes up to my neck, and sure enough, there was that silver chain with a silver lock dangling from it. When I took it off, I looked at the wall.

Should I really throw it?

Yeah you should. It's was from that dead bastard that-

Okay, okay. You don't have to remind me that he almost killed me.

But then I remembered.

"You're just another heartless brat that I should take care of."

That sentence was the sentence he said when we were still living with him. It was like as if I was a haystack and that sentence was fire. My anger shot up immediately, and I didn't care about anything. The next thing I know, the locket is lying motionless on the ground.