Needs of a Sophisticated Heartbreaker: Revenge [ON HOLD]

Chapter 1 - The Funeral...

I hobbled slightly, while carelessly running down the marble staircase in the lobby, making my way to the driveway. My black Prada heels tick tocked, as each step hit the hard marble. The heels belonged to her, tears were burning my eyes. As I stepped on the last step of the staircase, my ankle twisted, causing me to slip off the slippery step, as I landed on my spine, hitting my head hard, causing a little physical pain was nothing if compared to that mental one I just got. I was alone, no one was around, not a person, to help me up.

'Damn!' I mumbled. No one was around to help me.

Although the guards were present, on the Gateway, not inside the mansion, which seemed more like a big museum, in her absence... with half-modern, half-antique surroundings.

~Previous day morning~

'What's wrong with this dress? When did boots and dress swerve out of style?' I groaned at her, while staring at myself in a full length mirror. She looked disappointed enough to not respond. I had pulled a floral summer dress, brown boots, and a jacket of same color. She eyed me, sternly, and rummaged  through my closet, few seconds later threw at me a pair of black pencil skirt, a white top, and a black blazer, and handed me her black Prada pumps, commanding me to change into them. After a few minutes of worthless arguing, I gave up realizing she was right and It was me behaving me just another kiddish teen. It was time to grow up now, I had applied in Harvard and was dressing up for the meeting with University Dean. Harvard was my dream ever since I turned 11. Higher studies fascinated me, so I chose Harvard. As I was good to go, she signalled me a thumbs up, while swigging down from a Vodka bottle, with a menthol cigarette in other hand, which definitely made me mad, what the hell was she doing? drinking at this time of day, It was early morning. 

'What the hell is wrong with you? you need to lose these' I whisper yelled at her pointing at her hands, she looked down at both of her hands.

'Uhhhmmm! Aren't you late? Babydoll?' she said teasingly, smoking some more.

'Dont you babydoll me, Freya!! If you dont lose it before I leave, I m not talking to you.' her behavior was upsetting me now.

'Hmmmm... again with same threats, Dont you have some other threats that would actually work?' she evil grinned at me.

'Okay now, stop acting like a bitch! Either, you lose the drugs or I m not leaving' I threatened her.

'Okay, Calm down Hun, I was just messing, I'll do as you say.' she said, returning an honest smile, as she shoved down the cigarette in the dustbin and placed the Alcohol container inside the fridge, pulling out a salad sandwich.

 'Here, eat this' she handed me the sandwich, pulling me into a hug, and whispering to me 'I know. you're gonna ace it', placing a peck on my cheek, slightly rubbing up and down my back. Haah! Comforting!

I bit my lower lip nervously which signified my nervousness, noticing my condition, she placed her hand on my shoulder, rubbing my arm gently, turning me around, as we walked slowly in the same direction. 'Dont be nervous babe, Now what you're gonna do is, you'll walk out that door, like a professional and ace that Interview like the real bold girl you are.'

I passed a smile, gaining some confidence.

'Now, GO! Ace it like an expert...' she smiled at me, shooing me away.

Okay, Now, help yourself, be an expert, 'I AM GONNA ACE IT' I mumbled to myself, walking out the door.

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I was brought back to reality, from the sound of engine, as a Car parked out in the driveway. Must be the driver, I quickly got up, and cleaned the dirt off from the black dress I was wearing for her mourning. It was about 10am, and I was ready. I quickly walked out the door as I saw the driver suddenly drawing himself to his full height, at the tick tock of my heels. As I approached closer, the guards marched to me, to see me off, standing there. The driver  was young, they are often supposed to be stodgy old men with grey hair, with a hat placed on their head. This one was neither stodgy, nor with a hat, or grey hair.