I woke up to find Harry not next to me. Either he decided to leave or my mum asked him to. Either way, I felt cold. And empty. This was bad. A while ago I rejected the whole idea of having feelings, and being sad. And yesterday I told Harry most of my secrets. So I made a vow.
I wouldn't spill anymore secrets about any thing. Not about Pheobe. Not about myself. Not about this family. It was none of his business, and he didn't deserve to know. He was nothing but a mere distraction. A publicity stunt. I didn't even like him like that. Fuck it, I did. He was there for me. And I'd be there for him. If he needed me.
I rolled over and felt something hard beneath me.
"What the-" I paused as I picked up a brown note book, opening it and flipping through the pages. I stormed out of my room and ran into the living room, slamming the notebook onto the coffee table and standing in front of the TV. "Who wrote this?"
"Maria," my mum sighed, inspecting her manicured nails. Speaking of which, my nails needed to be worked on, I've been chewing on them for the past few days and they look horrid.
"She wrote everything about me. My depression, the fact that I snorted coke, she's written everything in here," I picked it up and threw it at the wall, "WHY THE FUCK WOULD SHE DO THAT?!"
"Katie she was going to sell you out," my father spoke as he entered the room, clearly knowing what we were talking about.
"We pay her like, 10 bags a week why would she do that?!" I frowned taking a seat on the chair beside the couch, both my parents sighed as I realised, "The greedy bitch! How could she possibly want more?!"
"She had a few debts to pay off, and your story would've paid them off and she'd still have loads of money left over," my mum shrugged.
"Why are you so casual about this!"
"Because we fired her. And she has no solid evidence against you, so everything is ok princess," my dad gave me a warm smile.
I rolled my eyes, "I could've done that. I need to have confronted her,"
"Oh please, you're hardly one to confront, you cower away in the presence of power," my grandmother spat as she entered the room.
"SHE'S THE MAID!" I laughed hysterically, "She's a maid. And nothing else. Why on earth would I cower away from someone as worthless, and as small as her?" my voice dripped with venom as I gripped the arms of my chair, "Besides. No one is more powerful than a Darlington. You taught me that. Didn't you?"
"Katie she had something in her notebook about Harry," I paused, "he knows something. Apparently,"
"She's lying," I whispered.
"For your sake. I hope so," my mum said.
I stood up and began to leave.
"Where are you going?" my nan asked, barely looking up from her phone. She was probably texting her new boy toy.
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*