Family Court [KRENZIE]

𝐂𝐇𝐀𝐏𝐓𝐄𝐑 𝐄𝐋𝐄𝐕𝐄𝐍

As I and Mackenzie exited the counsellor's office, I could feel the tears burning my eyes. But I couldn't let her see me weak. She had seen me mad, but crying was out of the question. Especially since it was her fault, to begin with. Well, not exactly. So weird that this thought had popped in my mind.

I made sure to walk faster than Mackenzie. I needed to outrun her. I sped up until eventually, I was running away from freedom, hoping she would get the hint. All I wanted was to cuddle my cat in my bed and eat bad food while watching something stupid online, like every other normal teenager.

"Kristen! Wait!", her childish voice echoed in the hallways. She was trying to follow me, I could hear her footsteps. I tried running as fast as I possibly could, but she was faster. Martial arts, archery and roller skating had paid off at this moment.

All I needed at that moment was to be alone.

"Kristen, I'm serious!", Mackenzie kept screaming. At least it felt like screaming to me. She rarely raised her voice.

I covered my ears with my palms as if I was a child again. I didn't want to hear anything.

My feet betrayed me as my face almost collided with the floor. Luckily, my hands saved me. I was sure I had ripped my jeans at the knees. My mom was going to kill me.

Mackenzie took this as an opportunity to speak up:

"Don't forget it's not my fault I was born. It's not just my mother's fault. It's your father's too," she spoke, her voice never changing its softness. She could never play a villain in a movie for sure.

Her words stung. She was right. And I hated that. I had grown to see my father as a hero. For him to do anything wrong was impossible in my eyes. But this time he had done something terrible.

I needed to straighten my priorities. Just like I needed to get up, straighten my back and go my own way.