Burning Willow

VI

- Edited -

At times, the world told you what to do. It told you how to walk and how to talk, how to think and what to say.

A very big part of this certain world were your parents.

Then there were other times, when you could afford to think as an individual, to decide what was wrong and right.

This was certainly one of those times.

I cleared my throat and put my fork down. "Father." I adressed with a nod of my head.

He glanced at me, trying hard not to smile, and set his arms on the table. "Daughter." He said.

Huh, he thought this was amusing. Well.

"I want to talk about what you did yesterday."

My mother, barely glancing from her phone, shooed me away. "Dinner isn't the time for talks of politics."

My stepfather's face fell a little. "Is that what your worried about, darling?"

I stiffened at his term of endearment for me, wishing he hadn't said it.

But it didn't make what he had done any better.

"Yes." I said.

"Look, don't bother." He replied. "I did what I did. And it's not like I didn't think about it. I had several meetings with my advisors to take the best legal course of action."

I wanted to cringe at the word legal.

I leaned across the table. "Maybe that's why so many people from our city turn to crime, dad." I said slowly. "It's because people like you want to earn money from ruining their lives."

"KYLIE ELIZABETH BRIEN!" Mom slammed her phone on the table. A vein twitched on her forehead, and she looks ready to burst. "THAT'S NO WAY TO TALK TO YOUR FATHER!"

None of us acknowledged her, choosing to stare at each other instead.

"You know how many families you're ruined, dad?" I asked. "What will they--"

"Kylie!" Mom yelled. "Up to your room. Now!"

My eyes flickered at her.

Then I mustered up a little courage, stood up and walked away.

My hands were clenched, and I was fuming.

This was it. I wasn't an advisor, nor my dad's business partner. But I knew this was wrong.

And I was scared for him.

The last businessman who had come remotely close to doing anything similar had ended up in a hospital with both his legs broken. And that was fifteen years ago.

But he didn't want to listen. Because what he thought he was doing was right.

Choosing not to eavesdrop for once, I instead made my way to my room. Entering, I immediately flopped on the bed, too tired to do anything.

That's when my phone buzzed.

Maya : I'm free tomorrow.

I get up and type a quick reply.

Me : I'm flattered and all, but I'm straight.

Maya : Funny. But what I mean was, I'm free for the whole painting-job you want me to do. Considering it takes less than 3 hours.

I smiled. Perhaps this ball thing wasn't such a bad idea. It would certainly help keep my mind off things.

I sighed. Normal teenagers only had to worry about clothes and their latest Instagram pictures.