Broken Strings

Speeches and propositions

Amelia!” My Father’s bellowing voice calls from the living room yet I am reluctant to answer his demand. “Get down here! Now!” he screams. Angry, I escape my only sanctuary before racing down the stairs hoping this confrontation is quick and painless.

“What?”

My Father stands in disbelief, “Don’t get snappy with me Miss!” he hissed between clenched teeth. When my expression remained the same he continued, “Here, do this please. I need them in graphs for tomorrow’s meeting,” he hands me a large pile of stapled paper. The amount of trees killed in the process of this angered me.

“Sure,” I retreated to my room before he could say anything further. I’ve never had a choice with my Father, he doesn’t ask, he demands. I’ve been his partial slave since I’ve been able to switch on a computer. Of course my Father doesn’t know how to switch on a computer, therefore I am his guinea pig or lab rat. When I was younger and naïve I wound up the nerve to question my Father’s notion, “Why do I have to do it?” I pleaded. He only replied with “You are young and I’ll tell you what to do without any chit chat. If you don’t do this, you won’t eat,” he gave me the ultimatum. Of course I still went ahead with the work he gave me.

Before I even had the chance to get to my desk my Father burst through the door, “And Amelia, take off that ugly jumper. Do you like looking like you live in a slum?” my mouth fell open in shock but I quickly corrected my expression before he could get angry. “Please tell me you didn’t wear that to school today? What must your friends say? I’d be embarrassed if I was them. Get it off,” he stuttered before finally leaving my room, slamming the door behind him. I have been brought up in a mad house.

After two hours I finally managed to finish my Father’s papers. “Dinner!” my Mother’s eerie voice echoed throughout the house. Stomach rumbling, I stammered to the dining room where a place had so generously been set for me. They’re sucking up.

“Did you finish the papers?” he asked from the head of the table. I lifted the pile of printed ink from my lap and handed them to his snapping fingers. “Thank you darling,” his fake pride was overwhelming.

“How was school today honey?” Mum asked from my left. She wore a slim fitting nude dress with a black belt around her waist.

“Good,” I reply with all honesty.

“That’s good to hear,” she hums after swallowing a mouthful of pasta.

“Helen, Amelia needs new clothes. She can’t go around looking like that,” my Father spits. Small pieces of chewed food fly across the table landing just centimetres from my plate. I cringe at his awful table etiquette.

“I’ll buy some for you tomorrow,” Mum whispers loud enough for him to hear.

“Thanks,” I’m honestly not looking forward to seeing what she is going to bring home.

Dinner passed almost painlessly and now I lay in bed, dreaming of what tomorrow could bring. On a normal night I would be dreading the following day. But now that I have something to look forward to I’m almost eager.

~*~

The school is buzzing yet I don’t feel as self-conscious as I would on a normal day but just like I admitted last night, this isn’t normal for me. I have a friend.

“Amelia?” a now familiar voice almost frightens me. “Hey, how are you?” Peter.

“I’m good, and you?” he nodded with a satisfying smile, “What class do you have first?”

“English, with you if I remember correctly,” he taps me on the arm while fiddling with the books he holds in his arms.

“Should be fun then,” I admit. I’m trying hide to contain my excitement. His stormy eyes stare me down.