Wildcat

2

The funeral was really hard for my mom. She could barely look anywhere but at her feet, and soon her shoes were saturated with tears. I was still in a state of shock. Maddie's parents' eulogy was almost too much to bear. It was far shorter than it should have been.... When I got up to say a few words, I couldn't even look in their direction. Afterward, my mom had to be ushered back into the police car she had arrived in. Though Maddie's parents weren't pressing charges, a judge had still found my mom criminally negligent and she was going to jail. For a long time.

In an instant, I had lost my entire life.

I'm headed off to Social Services. Even though I'll turn eighteen in a few months, I'm not allowed to be on my own yet. My dad is flying back from Paris so I can stay with him.

Most people would be grateful that their extremely busy (and rich) businessman father was coming all the way from Paris to stay with them. But my parents got divorced for a reason, and I have the scars to show it.

So yes, I'm really excited to stay with my monster of a father for a few months.

When the Social Services worker arrives at her office, she guides me to a chair by an unkempt desk, presumably hers. Her glossy name tag reads 'Stephanie'.

I hate this woman with a passion. She treats me like a mentally unstable two year old. I glance at her platinum blonde hair and fake smile. She reminds me of my father- unnatural. 

I gaze out the panorama window as white stretch limo pulls up in front of the Social Services office. It's emblazoned with a bright red image, the symbol of my father's world-renowned technology company. Below the image, the red lettering screams 'William T. Jennings Technologies.'

An attendant hurriedly emerges from the passenger side of the limo and opens the side door with a flourish.

First one, then another ugly shoe emerges from the confines of the limo. My father steps out, straightening his fifty thousand dollar suit. He  struts towards the door as if he owns the place, a line of people following like acolytes. His bulky frame stands out among the smattering of thin, orphaned children.

He enters the building and, having spotted me amongst the clutter, rushes towards Stephanie's desk. He envelops me in a disgusting, cologne scented hug. I push away from him, thoroughly appalled. I brush off my black skirt and glare at him with stormy gray eyes.

William T. Jennings whispers with Stephanie for a moment and then, looking satisfied, takes my arm and leads me out to the limo. I wrench my arm out of his forceful grip as dignifiedly as I can and get in the limo. My father sits in the seat opposite mine and proceeds to ignore me by talking on his phone for the entirety of the ride.

When we reach my father's home I'm impressed against my will. It's a huge, whitewashed building with sweeping green lawns. Overlooking the beautiful gardens were multiple balconies dripping in foliage.

A sudden surge of anger rushes over me and I almost trip over my own feet.

'My mom should be the rich, powerful one', I think to myself, 'my father should be the one in jail...'

My father leads me to a huge room overlooking the greenhouse. It's a beautiful room, but I stare, aghast, at the freshly painted light blue walls. My favorite color. Almost as if he knew I was going to be living here.

For a long time.