Sin In A Suit

Chapter 1

Violet

Scurrying as quickly as I can around the mess of a place I call my home, I am completely flabbergasted trying to look for my charm bracelet, flipping mattresses to find the darn thing, but to no avail. I've been stressed all day long. From the moment I woke up I've been fueled with a shit load of caffeine that my body will later hate me for. I'll gladly suffer the consequences if that means being able to bolt out of the door like I've been wanting to for years. And now, after being so immensely patient, it's paid off.

Today's my first day of college at my dream school, the University of Chicago. Lord know I can't wait to get into my dorm and leave this toxic environment I've grown up in my entire life. Having a brother like Jason has been and will always be the sole reason I didn't lose my mind entirely. This place, it never felt like home, not with a mother like mine. She makes this feel like the furthest thing from home.

If there ever was once a time I could be proud to tell the world about my home, it would be when my father was still here, living with us. Showering Jason and I with an immense amount of love that it drove us sick sometimes. But it was genuine. I believe so at least. Those moments meant everything to us, they were my hope, and then they were gone.

My father, my hero, the only parent I could actually count on for anything walked out on me, on my brother, our family when I was just thirteen years old, and there hasn't been a moment since where my mother isn't blaming me for it. She religiously reminded me that it was my fault for being a disobedient child. It wasn't, but it helped her conscience remain guilt free. I figured that it was just an excuse to be meaner, it's part of my mother's personality.

Because before my father left us, she and I weren't ever okay, ever since I could remember. She always made it known that she preferred Jason over me, and with time I got used to that. Needless to say, our relationship has never been the mother-daughter friendly kind. Her reasons? I don't know, I stopped caring years ago.

It took a tremendous toll on me. My dad who sought out to be my protector vanished like sugar in water, and the one parent who stayed successfully made these last few years of my life some of my most miserable. As a child, all I ever wanted was to hear was how proud she was of me, or that she loved me. Anything really, kids yearn for that sort of stuff.

And while I'm not exactly a child anymore, I still long for that maternal manner she neglected me from all this time. Even a congratulations would do it, I'm not asking for a going away party, but just a simple acknowledgement for getting this far academically. This university is a big deal for me.

It's not like getting into the school of my dreams was an easy task. I had to work my ass off countless hours to improve my grades and nail my SAT's. So for once, just this once, it wouldn't hurt her to tell me that despite our differences, she's proud of me.

But at this point, there is only so much you can do before all those years of negligence catch up to you. It's a feeling I suppress and try my best to numb. Because not feeling is quite literally the best feeling in the world. It's taught me to never expect anyone or anything to offer you the world. Those type of people don't exist, I'm sure of that.

However, my mother is still in denial that our father left because of her. He put up with it for the sake of me and Jason, but even we weren't enough to shield him from the constant arguments he and mom shared. We tried, but we were just kids. Confused ones at that.

While on the subject, I would like to rectify that my mom is beautiful, though. There isn't denying her obvious beauty. Half the men in this town scarf down the crumbs she leaves behind whenever she leaves a room. She has a slim figure, long hair that reaches the bottom of her back, flawless skin, and always wears the nicest clothes. Almost too nice for someone without a job.