"Home, sweet home!" my mum shouted as soon as we'd entered our house again on a friday afternoon after a stressful few days in Paris. I didn't even have the time to enjoy the experience, not that I would've anyways, being nagged at every five seconds and literally being sewn into each outfit wasn't the best way to remember my trip to Paris.
"You can say that again," I sighed, watching as our housemaids rushed to grab our bags and put them in our rooms, "I'll unpack it myself thank you. Don't touch anything," I said as I made my way into the kitchen to fix myself a snack.
Once I had settled on a granola bar, (my mum was only a few steps away I couldn't expose the location of my treat box), I proceeded to check my phone. 68 missed calls from Harry, 10 missed calls from Dad, and 2 missed calls from Cassandra. I quickly sent Cassandra a text explaining that I couldn't answer her calls since I was on a plane, and continued to ignore Harry. In order for the both of us to ignore the situation at hand, I had to cut off all communication with him. Then, he'd realise that talking about it wouldn't make anything better and would drop it, and we could be together with no worries.
"Katie!" my dad shouted after giving my mum a kiss and pulling me into a hug. He kissed the top of my head and took a good look at me, "bloody hell, you look exhausted," he pushed my hair to the side, "what did they have you doing there that meant you couldn't get the right amount of sleep?"
I chuckled, "Nothing Daddy," he was always like this, concerned about not only my physical health, but also my mental health. He knew I was extra depressed when I didn't get my sleep. When I slept I forgot everything, that's why I cherished it so much. He was much more caring than my mother was, that's for sure.
"Anywhoo, I have a nice daddy daughter weekend set up for us," he smiled, "we're going down to our country house in Chelsea for the weekend. Get you doing some farm work and appreciating the countryside a bit more," I nodded, and went upstairs to pack a duffel bag.
My dad bought a large patch of land in the countryside in Chelsea before I was born and built a country house. After my birth we spent some of our time there whenever we wanted to get away from the stress that came with being an Elite in Kingston. Whenever he took me down there it was always a good time, especially since my mum rarely came with us. This daddy daughter weekend would give me a chance to be free from all my problems that lay here in Kingston and give me a time to relax and reflect so once I came back, everything was on track, and for once in my life, I'd be ok.
But I'm never ok, am I?
"Harold you know that Katie is supposed to be watching her figure so please don't give her anything unhealthy," my mum said as we came down the stairs later that day, our bags in hand, "Katie is that seriously all you're taking with you?"
I rolled my eyes, "I'm holding two big ass bags. Yes, this is all I'm taking,"
"Katie," my dad said in a warning tone, I rolled my eyes and muttered a quick apology.
YOU ARE READING
Kingston's EliteTeen Fiction
#1 of THE E L I T E Series "No one ever said being apart of a powerful group of rich people was easy," *Warning, this is triggering and does include self harm, read at your own risk*