2. Finally leaving

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Two years later...

I've finally finished packing when Timothy (our Butler/ nanny) finally comes to my room to "help". He probably waited by the door until I've packed most everything myself. And like always, he blames it on being old and tired. When in reality he was most likely in his quarters watching ' Keeping up with the Kardashian's' or sexting his boyfriend on the tinder app I made him download on his phone a few months ago. But only because he wouldn't leave me alone and it became obvious he needed a life. But that 'life' he now has means him watching security footage to check and see if I've already gotten his chores done for him.

"Thanks so much for all the help Timtim." I  deadpan. With a look that I hope is intimidating. Though to him it probably wasn't.
"Darling please do not use such improper manners when you speak to me. I was on my way to help but I'm a bit slow these days. Getting old you see." Told ya! He's really on a roll.

"Whatever. At least since you're here now, you can help me get all these suitcases out to the limo!" I say knowing that he'll try to find a way out of it.
His face scrunches up and he looks around for something, anything else to do. Eventually giving up with a huff,  he throws out his hand and motions for me to hand him something. I laugh and give him the lightest of the load. Knowing otherwise I'd hear a string of complaints and curses.

"I'm gonna miss you Timtim." I say when everything is finally tucked into the limo. Earning a saddened look from the sweet man. He lets out a dramatic cry before yanking me into a hug. He's the only person that can touch me without making me flinch or feel uncomfortable.
"I'll write you I promise. Knock 'em dead and do it with your heels on. They won't know what hit them." He whispers in my ear, making my eyes tear up.
We say our goodbyes and I seat myself in the limo to wait for my parents.

...

At the airport my father surprised me by actually helping me with my bags and following me to the gate.

He swipes away imaginary dust from my shoulders and looks me in the eye.
" You've proven yourself these last two years Clarissa. I am pleasantly surprised with your improvement. I expect to see perfect results on your monthly rankings understand?" He warns with a hard look.

"Yes sir." I say.
We stand there awkwardly until he decides his point is made and pats my shoulder before he walks away without looking back. He's referring to the Impossible improvement I've made in my training. Going from barely being able to keep up with any of my trainers to beating every single one of them in every match. I was trained in combat, firearms (I can hit any target with any gun now), seduction, dancing, music, battle strategy etc.

The scores I was given by my trainers beat my brothers by a lot and that's saying something because he's supposedly a perfect soldier, top of his class. Though my father thinks I'm the perfect leader, which makes him harder on me. He claims that tough love will make me stronger and better in every way so I can take over the family 'business' when he sees fit.

I don't look back either as I practically sprint into the plane. Not bothering to say goodbye to my mother again after last night. When she actually tried to convince me to run away. As if I have that choice. Over the years, I've come to pity my mother. Her weakness will be her undoing. One day my father will grow bored of entertaining the idea of love and decide that his drunkard drug addict of a wife is no longer of any use.

I've been dying to get away from my parents for a long time now. Especially my father and his incessant training. Even though I'm sure the academy won't be much better, it can't be any worse than my now old life. Where weakness is beaten out of you until you're numb to just about everything.

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