⁰²¹ 𝐛𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐤𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐝𝐚𝐝

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𝐒𝐄𝐀𝐓𝐓𝐋𝐄, 𝟐𝟎𝟎𝟓

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𝐒𝐄𝐀𝐓𝐓𝐋𝐄, 𝟐𝟎𝟎𝟓

The evening light had already begun to recede from the vast halls of Seattle Grace Hospital, and the encroaching darkness outside was casting everything in a soft, dim glow.

Most of the visitors were gone. A few scattered doctors and nurses hurried past, their footsteps echoing quietly on the polished floor as they likely made their final rounds of their shifts or looked forward to the end of the day.

I walked beside my father.

We were both in some kind of pact with silence, each of us lost in our own turbulent stream of thoughts.

By the time we reached the entrance hall, Mom was already there, ready for the house viewing, her face brightening like someone about to collect the grand prize in a lottery.

But then her gaze fell on Derek's battered face, his nose obviously broken, swollen and discolored - a clear sign of my handiwork a few hours earlier.

And I swear, Mom looked like she just saw her favorite pottery fall off the shelf.

"What the... Oh my God, Derek, what happened?" her voice was a combination of horror and the impulse to immediately disinfect what she saw as a wound.

Without a trace of remorse - but with a grin that I probably should have restrained - I replied:

"Oh, that was me. Some kind of a family art project.

Mom's eyes widened and I could practically see her blood pressure skyrocket. "Missy, why did you do that!?"

I shrugged, still grinning.

"Quite simple, actually. He pissed me off, I reacted. Newton's Third Law: For every action, there is an equal and opposite reaction. Physics, right?"

My father gave me a look that was somewhere between 'I need an ice bag' and 'Why me?

Mom looked at me as if wondering what exactly had gone wrong with the way she was raising me. "Missy, this is not a joke. You can't just hit people when you're mad, especially your father!"

Dad cleared his throat, obviously embarrassed and trying to defuse the situation. "Addison, we should talk about this later. Missy was just... very upset."

"Upset? Derek, she broke your nose!" my mother retorted, her voice a mixture of disbelief and maternal indignation.

"Technically, it's not broken, just a little out of place," I interjected.

"And actually, I did Dad a favor, because accidents like this mean that health insurance will cover all the costs of a rhinoplasty."

"Addison, I think Missy is trying to tell us in her own way that she feels left out."

"With violence?" Mom snapped at him, then turned back to me. "That's not the way, Missy. What do you think that triggers?"

"Right now? Pretty good endorphins, to be honest."

Mom's face went through a palette of emotions, from disappointment to pure confusion.

"This isn't funny, Missy. We're here to move forward as a family, not... send each other to the hospital."

"I thought the hospital was an appropriate place for that," I muttered, drawing a stifled laugh from Dad that was quickly masked by a forced cough.


"Missy, why are you so against moving to Seattle?" my mother finally asked, her voice softer but still charged.

"Maybe because I thought I was coming here for a nice little vacation week, not a lifetime of imprisonment!" I burst out.

"You didn't even ask me! You just plan everything behind my back. I'm sixteen, not six. My opinion might be interesting too!"

Derek looked back and forth between us, a weary mediator in an endless war. Then he put a hand on Addison's arm, a sign of reassurance.

"Let's go see the house now. We can sort all this out when we get back. Okay?"

I snorted defiantly.

"You know what? If you're so eager to find a new home, why don't you look in hell? I'm sure you'll find something there that suits both of you. I'm certainly not staying here."

Without another word, I turned around, ready to leave the scene of this family drama.

"Melissa Shepherd, that's enough!" Mom called after me. "Your dad and I are running late, you are going to the cafeteria now without further discussion and you are going to study until we come back to pick you up!"

I took one final look over my shoulder at my parents and raised my middle finger demonstratively without turning around.

"Up yours, bitch."


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