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copyright © zipperings™ 2017
written: MARCH 30, 2017
The Upper Class
epilogue
CHAOS, surrounded me. Sure, my life at home had never been superb. My father, Micheal Anderson a wealthy business owner, out late sleazing around with women who would give anything to have one night with one of the richest men in the country, when he had my mother waiting for him to arrive home from 'work'.
But the funny part is, my mother was no different from the women my father cheated on her with, because she knows that he's out late at night with other ladies. But she stays because god forbid that our reputation goes down hill.
My father's late night escapades were no surprise to my family anymore, my parents relationship is hanging on a single thread, and I can't help but feel like its all my fault.
"Vienna! Get your fat ass down here right now!" Her voice echoed off the large house.
"I'm coming mom! Wait!" I rush down the steps to be greeted with my mother with smoke steaming out her ears.
Smack.
Black dots entered my vision. "You stupid bitch, I told you to come down stairs 10 minutes ago, I am your mother, you listen to me and obey me!" She spits.
"I'm sorry." The words feeling rehearsed to my ears. "Sorry doesn't count it!" She slams me hard into the cold marble floors.
My body throbs from the impact. I painfully pick myself off the ground, "Get me tea you piece of shit, your father is coming home soon and I'm sure he wants you to be doing something productive other than being a little fat bitch in your room." Nodding silently, I make my way toward the kitchen and put some water in a kettle.
Ever since my dad began to come home later and later, I feel like my mother had began to take her frustrations onto me, I couldn't complain because everyone takes pain in different ways.
And I'd rather her do it to me than any one else.
I finish pouring the tea and hand it to my mother. After she takes her mug of tea she says, "In your room now."
"Okay." I trudge up the steps carefully, my back feeling sore and my face slightly stinging.
Stepping into the bathroom I get ready to shower and assess the damage caused. My face had a red hand mark, and I had a gut feeling my face would be bruised tomorrow which would cause the need for my extra foundation.
My back looked slightly red, not as bad as other nights.
Shaking my head at the thought, I turn on the shower to the hottest settings and step in.
VOCÊ ESTÁ LENDO
The Upper Class
Ficção AdolescenteVienna Santana is the daughter of Andrews Santana, the owner of a multibillion corporation. What happens when their is a huge scandal about the one and only Santana family? Who would leak it? Who would pay for it?
