Which way should I end my suffering, a quill to the eye or a flying leap out that window?
This lovely thought enters my brain while my mother stands before me yelling something along the lines of “disgracing the family name” and “failing at all your responsibilities.” You know the fun warm things loving mothers say. I take great pride in the fact that while others were learning to respect and honor their elders, I was perfecting the art of creating mass havoc and striking fear into the hearts of my perfect parents. And when I say perfect, I mean borderline psychotic.
“You have to start thinking about this family’s reputation. The name of Hearthrone has held this kingdom’s respect for a millennia, and it will not be disgraced because an insolent, immature, impulsive brat decides she doesn’t want to carry that respect.” My mother brattles on in the same disgusted and furious tone.
“Yes, well mother, when I see the girl in question I will relay your beration to her as we can both see there is no such girl who fits that description in this room. However there is a shriveled, obnoxious, arrogant, stuck up woman, so you may want to stand in the mirror and scream at her for a few hours. You know, self improvement and all that.” With that, I stood up from the straight back chair where I was sitting and promptly left the room. I didn’t have to turn around to know the look on my mother’s face was murderous, it always was.
As I was walking through the corridor, I glanced at the portraits that had hung there my entire life. Paintings filled with dull, stuck up adults scowling at the observer. Not a single smile in any of the pictures, which basically sums up my life in the insufferable manor. Never allowed to smile, never allowed to have fun, never allowed to do anything that didn’t protect the family’s name.
About four months ago, I decided that I had had enough. I snuck out to this festival in my village that I had never been allowed to go to. When I arrived, I saw the most beautiful scene, dozens of people running around, playing music, dancing, talking, eating, being free. All I saw was bright colors and joyous faces. All I heard was glorious laughter and magical music. I started to enjoy myself, just observing the festivities and soaking in all the joy when someone tapped me on the shoulder.
“I am scared to even ask what is going on in that wonderfully insane head of yours.”
Ah, think of the devil and he shall appear.
A 17 year-old boy with a lean frame, hazel eyes, and light brown hair had walked over to me when I entered the stables. The boy’s name is Mikah. And he is the reason my mother cleared her schedule to yell at me. Naturally, I shouldn’t have wanted to see him, but I did.
“You said that we wouldn’t get caught.” I deadpanned.
“And we wouldn’t have if one of us hadn’t punched the tavern owner in the face, and started a brawl.”
“A brawl that I won I might add, and the guy was asking for it, you know it.” He laughed at that very justified response. I couldn’t help but smile too.
“Yes, well I hope your warden wasn’t too harsh. Though I doubt that you actually listened to anything she said.”
“It was more of the same. You’re a disgrace, you will never live up to our expectations, I wish I had had a boy. You know, the really loving and fuzzy things doting parents say to their awesome children.” I said, trying not to let my bitterness show. Judging by the concern in his eyes, I had failed.
“I know it is hard Lyla, but in time we will never have to think of this town again.” He reassured me, his eyes had that glint in them they get whenever he talks about leaving. I know my face probably looks the same.
“Yeah, I just wish we didn’t have to wait.”
“Well… we might have to wait to leave this place, but in the time being we could cause as much havoc as we please.” Mikah said, smirking.
I might never be loved by my birth family. To them, I might always be a nuisance who needs to be controlled. But I could be loved by others, like Mikah and my friends. I could be free from my family and belong somewhere. But to be honest, my family is probably right about the nuisance part, and I like it that way.
So I looked Mikah in the eyes, with a mischievous expression on my face to match his and replied, “What kind of havoc were you thinking?”
