Fallen Queen

~ C H A P T E R T W E N T Y ~

"I'm curious about what pushed you to finally admit these things about your character, Daaaad," I drag the word and pull that one on him. He shakes his head and gets up. "You meet us after almost two years and this is how you behave when you return," he tells me, "You're supposed to mature over the years, not just act."

"If I don't do stupid things when I'm young, I'll have nothing to smile about when I'm older, Dad," I smirk, "Just like you don't."

I bet that hit home.

"What's with that attitude, Achelois?" He looks down at me, "And those clothes? You're finally becoming a 'someone' in the business industry and you start being all high and mighty when all you really are is immature and irresponsible."

"It's not an attitude, Dad," I grit my teeth, feeling something snap in me- the control slipping away smoothly as usual- I let it. "It's called a personality and," I stand up, "I think you had the reins of my life for just twenty years of my life-" I shake my head, "I'm quite done with you dominating my choices- not that you really want to- you have Declan, of course."

I feel Mom wince by my side.

"You're still an immature, stupid girl who just relies on her emotions and snaps at people to seek attention," he says harshly and places the cup back on the table with a soft clang.

"You're still the father who couldn't afford to care yet thought he deserved the title of a father just because he'd helped in creating me, but oh Dad," I shake my head and stand up, "Only if you knew." I look down at Mom who looks up at me with the same blank expression, never quite partaking in the not-so-friendly conversation. "Mom, I dropped by because I needed intel, but I doubt you have it," I shake my head, "Because my parents care about how immature I am but have absolutely no fucking idea that Lucian Hawthorne attempted to kill me."

Dad raises his head, but too slowly to be normal. When she speaks her voice trails slowly, like her words are unwilling to take flight. When Mom finally picks her jaw off the floor, she is ashen, lips almost blue in this crazy summer heat. Her limbs move as if some inexperienced person is controlling them remotely and her eyes are wide, looking right at us, but not really.

"The name doesn't ring any bells," she finally whispers.

"Of course it doesn't," I mutter, "Besides the fact that he might be one of the biggest industrialists in the States, and I'd bet my life on the fact that we might quite be somewhat related to the Hawthorns, don't you think?"

"Lois....." Mom pauses with an apologetic expression.

"I shouldn't have come 'ere," I ran a hand through my hair, feeling exasperated. I walk past Dad, who doesn't move at all, as if frozen with the info I just gave him. Getting out of the house in a hurry, I lock myself inside my car and place my forehead on the steering wheel and feel the coolness soothe my forehead.

I shift after a few moments, pressing the side of my head to the wheel now, when my eyes catch on a black car behind me as I stare at the mirror, but not quite. The figure looks like a man- he wears tinted aviators and a black hoodie, covering much of his face. The extended turtleneck of his hoodie hides his mouth from me. Even though I can get a better view of him if I raise my head slightly, I don't- because if I do- he'll know I'm watching.

I act as if I've seen nothing; I just behave casually and start the car, not too fast either.

I drive out of the lane, avoiding any narrow shortcuts and streets and preferring the main roads, even though the traffic is a drag to get through. When the black car follows me from a distance, I smile at myself in the mirror- the corner of my lips twitches upward.

The next step is unavoidable- but I'm very intent on doing it.

Mind control has long been thought of in fiction as a form of magic, or a thing that may need a device, or technology. It is none of those things. Our brains naturally communicate with each other, a simple form of this is co-regulation. The mind control is such that it becomes a puppeteer and puppet. When you've got control over a person's mind, you can manipulate them anyway- human beings have eyes but not everyone can see through a person's mind.

I go down the deserted lane.

Hit.

One moment the road is there, wide open and safe, the next there are loud noises, acrid smells and pain that you may or may not recover from. My forehead smashes into the glass of the front of the car. My Porsche Panamera, my baby- but, this is more important and I have two more cars.

I feel the drops of blood gliding down my face and seeping into my mouth- the metallic tongue of it sending exquisite shivers down my body. I place my head back on the steering wheel, as I sway slightly, feeling everything blur in front of me.

I hear the car pass by.

Captured another head.

I raise my head and wipe my head clean. There's going to be a minor concussion- I can say that- and for the car to look good as new- well, it would cost me some considerable amount of money- but the mind games are worth it.

My hand instinctively reaches out to my phone, but then I draw it back.

I'm no damsel in distress.

A/N:-

What the hell, again!?

Yeah, again.

So, the thing is, the author AKA me has a thing for getting their MC in trouble. And most definitely likes killing off fan-favorite characters. The next thing is, the next few chapters might seem as fillers but they do contribute towards the plot.

Secondly, yes, there will be faster and more regular updates because Wattys is around and I hope I do have a chance to participate!

Thirdly, I'm cute!

LMAO.

QOTD:- What genres of music do you like?

Meh? I'm mostly pop, but then I'm also into metal and also bits of electronic. Besides that, I myself play the piano too lmao, but singing? No thanks. I'd sound like a constipated wolf. For singing, check out my friend Nayasha_Jena 's youtube account! She's such an incredible singer, LMFAO.

Okay, that's all!
Sincerely,
Your Little Box of Mischief,
D-sha! 🐤😎👊