The House on the Hill

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It is seems to be a common theme for every small town to have that one rich family living in the fanciest house around with the rest of the townsfolk only wishing they could enter.

Riverdale had Thornhill mansion, belonging to the Blossom family, owners of the Blossom Maple Farms business, Riverdale royalty, one of the towns founding families and the most respected individuals in all of the town.

Penelope Blossom, the family matriarch. Fierce, powerful, a no nonsense woman of high class, head of the PTA, perfect marriage, perfect children, born into wealth.

Jason Blossom, the handsome Riverdale bulldogs quarterback, one of the most popular boys on campus, girls practically fall at his feet, the golden boy, Penelope's pride and joy.

Cheryl Blossom, head cheerleader of the Riverdale High Vixens, 4.0 gpa, the budding artist, most popular girl on campus, everyone either loved her or envied her, also the black sheep of the family.

And finally the Blossom family patriarch, Clifford Blossom, who had unfortunately passed away five years ago after taking his own life. The reasons being remain a mystery as there was no note nor any sign of wanting to take his own life. The rumours that circulated after this tragic event were wild but not as wild as Penelope re-marrying  only six months later.

One of their many family traditions included an upscale breakfast on a Sunday morning, but as they were soon to find out, their current meal was going to end in disaster.

Jason sat in his designated chair ogling his Mother and Stepfather from one end of the table to another.

Food was the last thing on his mind so he couldn't quite fathom how his mother sat there gleefully tucking into her meal or his stepfather casually reading the morning paper, as if nothing had happened in the past week.

"Mom? Have you spoken to Cheryl?" He asks.

She stops what she's doing and narrows her eyes towards the boy, before damn near slamming her fork onto the table.

"Jason, I refuse to waste my time entertaining your sisters little tantrum. And I especially refuse to do it when she's the one in the wrong. I tried to help her and her warped mind and she paid that kindness by storming off to God knows where." She sternly said. "That spoiled brat is not going to ruin another family tradition. Now eat up."

He sighed deeply, secretly disgusted by his mothers behaviour but he'd never have the guts to tell her to her face. He didn't want to end up in Cheryl's position.

"That reminds me, Harold dear?!" Penelope called out. Her husband looked up from his paper.

"Hmm?"

"Don't forget to have Cheryl's things placed outside. If she wants to play dirty so can we." Penelope said nonchalantly as she continued to tuck into her food. Harold's only response was to nod.

In the midst of the silent atmosphere, with cutlery hitting plates being the height of sound, they were interrupted by the front door swinging open.

All Jason could see was a rush of red hair fly up the staircase.

"Cheryl?!" He called out as he followed.

"Jason! Don't you dare leave this table." She warned as she grabbed ahold of his arm.

He pulled out of her embrace and followed his sister up the stairs.

Penelope reluctantly went after him and found the two in Cheryl's bedroom. She was frantically packing up her belongings, albeit messily, into whatever forms of luggage she could find.

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