Chapter 3: Family In Debt?
1997 Words
“You are getting married. That's it.”
“I’m not–”
"I said that billionaire man is a monster." Nicole screamed out of nowhere, spitting the word "billionaire" like a curse word.
"Shut up and go back to your room. You're thirteen. Too young to know anything about monsters,” Mother remarked harshly.
“No. I see how you look when you speak about him. I see fear written all over you, mama,” Nicole cried, lips trembling.
Mother rubbed the area between her eyebrows. “Just go back to your room. This is an adult conversation.”
“No,” Nicole shouted, arms crossed, eyes spitting flames.
Father grabbed her arm and pushed her to her door. “Get in. Now.”
“I hate you all,” she screamed and banged the door behind her.
“And don't you come back out,” Father roared, looking strange for a man who always stayed composed.
I sighed “You all don't have to f*****g act like you hate her on my account. By all means, go off. Talk to me. Tell me all the colorful insults. Remind me of what a shame I am to you. Go on, let me hear it.”
Father marched angrily towards me shaking his fist at me. "You! You should have died at birth.”
I burst into laughter, tears streaming down my face, as I took two steps forward till I stood toe-to-toe with my father.
"You should have killed me yourself." I hissed.
I suddenly gasped in mock realization, "Oh, I'm sorry, you wouldn't do that. You don't fancy murders." I faced my father squarely.
"You're a businessman. You make "investments” and take enough care of them to sell when it's convenient."
“Raine!" Mother looked alarmed.
"I know that's all I am to you. What next, sell off thirteen-year-old Nicole too?"
Mother screamed, “Raine!!"
"What?" I screamed louder, shaking with fury.
A headache started at the base of my skull and I closed my eyes for a few seconds.
“Aren't you tired?” I asked weakly.
I watched Father's face, devoid of any emotion, not even the slightest glimmer of remorse, and soon, red-hot anger burned through my veins like acid.
“Aren't you both f*****g tired?”
“We're in the 21st century for goodness’ sake. You think you can just marry me off? So what if you disown me? Do you think I'll care? You stopped being my parents the day Richie died.”
“You know what this means? It means you'll lose your inheritance. You will get nothing from me,” Father stated coldly.
“You should know by now that I don't care. I absolutely look forward to nothing from you. You can go on burning down everything I work for but you won't break me.”
“I will never bend to you, dad. Not now. Not ever."
His face was completely blank as he stared at me.
I might as well have been screaming at a wall.
"Don't be a child, Raine. You know how important this marriage is for our family. Both families have already agreed to it and the wedding is a done deal, no ifs or buts." Mother ventured in a lovey tone that instantly annoyed me.
"I swear on Richie's grave I will never get married because it's convenient for you,” I said icily.
"You're being selfish, Raine. This isn't just about you; it's our entire family and future,” she added.
"What about my future? To spend the rest of my life tied to a man I don't know or love? Huh? Who is really selfish here?"
“You tell us. I'm not the one who tried to kill myself,” Father shrugged.
I instinctively clenched my fist, breathing hard. I was walking on the edge of a very bad panic attack. What he said. How he said it, unleashed a river of sadness in me.
“That was three years ago.” My voice came out hoarse and shaky, barely a whisper.
Silence. Father's grey eyes were impenetrable as he watched me, waiting for me to fall apart.
I wouldn't give him the satisfaction.
I cleared my throat. "I never agreed to this arranged marriage nonsense and I will never agree to it,” I said, the tone of finality unmistakable in my voice.
Father looked bored, “You don't have to agree. It's already settled. You're marrying Lucian with or without your permission and I came to tell you that."
Everywhere was quiet as Father left me seething at my door.
“We're going to see about that." I laughed hysterically as I slammed the door behind me.
I pulled out a suitcase and started shoving my clothes in angrily.
"If that's what he wants, that's f*****g great. I'll just have to do what I want."
I dragged my suitcase downstairs, ignoring Mother's cries for me to stop.
"Step a foot outside that door, and you'll no longer be my daughter,” Father declared.
Crap.
I bit my tongue and halted at the door, waiting for my racing heart to subside.
Then I made a dash back into my room.
Where was it? Where was it?
Panting heavily, my eyes roamed the scattered room until…
Ah, there it was. I picked up my car keys from my dresser and rushed back out.
I saw Mother lugging my suitcase up the stairs into the room.
We looked at each other, confused.
"Where are you going?" We said at the same time.
Poor woman, her face was pale.
A little part of me was worried that she was breathing with a lot of difficulty, but I brushed off the feeling. She had lived with this sickness for eight years, and we had been in worse situations. This won't kill her.
"What do you mean "where am I going?”"
I grabbed my suitcase from her and jogged back downstairs.
"Wait. Did you hear anything your father just said?"
I sighed long-sufferingly and nodded, halting at the foot of the stairs briefly.
“It’s okay, mom. Really. I never needed you both anyway. Or do you need me to remind you?” I stared at her dead in her crystal blue eyes, the exact shade like mine.
They looked tormented. Also like mine.
My voice dropped to a whisper. “Do you really need me to remind you, mom?” I loaded enough spite into that last word, she winced.
“Please, baby. Do this for us.”
“This is not some goddamned kiddies hide and seek. It's the rest of my life. Till death f*****g do us part.”
I shook my head in disbelief.
“This is marriage, mom. The rest of my life,” I emphasized. “Do you really not care about that?” My question came out more heartbroken than I intended it to be.
“I know–”
“You don't.” I sighed. “But it's okay. Just let me leave.”
With that, I pushed my way to the door, my body raging hot despite the chill in the air.
“Raine, just listen–”
I stopped. “No, I'm done listening. You listen to me.” I was raising my voice again.
Pull yourself together, Raine.
Dragging in a deep breath, I closed my eyes and counted to three, then exhaled. “You listen to me because I will never say this again.”
“You don't have to–”
“Speak,” Father interrupted, staring at me icily.
I mirrored his stare for a few seconds, then turned to Mother.
“This is no way to live. Pretending to love me when you want something. Fighting to connect with a part of me that died in that crash. It won't work. That foolish nineteen-year-old girl is dead now.”
“In her place is this deeply broken twenty-seven-seven-year-old who has never had a moment of peace for eight years.”
“When I close my eyes, all I see is you, Father. And Richie. Accusing me. Laughing at me. Tormenting me for surviving that accident.”
I blew out a tired breath. “I'll never have peace in this life, and I've made peace with that.” I paused for a few seconds to keep myself from breaking down.
“But broken as I may be, I'm lightning fast at detecting bullshit.”
“I know you both pissed off the wrong people. I know you're offering me up as the sacrificial lamb. And I also know…”
“I know you burned my studio to the ground. Every piece of art I worked on all these eight years. Everything burnt to ashes,” I choked out.
My eyes were brimming with fresh tears as I pulled back to look at his face.
"Why would you think that?" She sobbed quietly.
I faced Father.
"You're not denying it.”
Art used to be the only way I could keep sane, busy, on the days the voices in my head threatened to tear me apart.
Richie was also an artist. The best I'd ever known.
“You know art is the only remaining connection I have to Richie, yet you burned it down.”
He wouldn't admit it but I knew.
I sighed and sniffed, "But I'm no Jesus Christ. I won't pay the price for your problems. So, yes. I'm leaving. f**k the inheritance.”
"No!" Nicole screeched from the stairs, running towards me.
“No. Don't go."
I waited to give her one last hug. “Oh Nic. Come here.”
“Don't leave.” she cried, clutching me tighter.
I sniffed and wiped my eyes. Then, looking into her eyes, I saw myself. Tired and angry, but the hard set in my jaw said all I needed to know–I was leaving for good.
I managed to kiss her forehead as it was hard to form any words.
Then looking back at my parents–er Gerald and Marilyn, I gave my parting words.
“I'm sure you go to sleep with dreams of me dying in that crash instead of Richie.” My words came out as a tired whisper.
Mother–Marilyn looked tortured. “Raine–”
“I'm okay with that. But please, I don't want you to ever think of me. Not even in your dreams. That's all I ask.”
The rain slapped my tear-streaked cheeks as I ran to my car and sped out of the driveway. I took one last glance at the mansion I used to call home.
"It's okay," I tried to console myself in-between heavy sobs, "It's just an ordinary building like any other."
Like most daughters, I both loved my parents and prayed not to become like them.
That's why, of all the reasons why I never agreed to this sham of a marriage, this topped my list.
I would never become like them.
I stepped on the gas and turned up the volume of Adele's "Set Fire To The Rain" till my car boomed along with the song's upbeat tempo.
My phone screen suddenly lit up. I looked at the Caller ID, and my therapist's name popped up.
Sassy Sally.
She was also my cousin.
I swiped at my screen, “Not in the mood, Sally."
"You need to go home now."
"Please don't start."
“Your mother is not well, Raine."
“Yes, for eight years. Tell me something I don't know.”
Her tone turned grave, “Her heart just gave out. She slumped. It doesn't look like she's going to make it this time. Come back home, Raine."
I didn't let her finish.
Horns wailed and drivers yelled as I reversed and sped back in the direction of the house I swore never to step foot in just ten minutes ago.
You better not die, Mom.
- Writer
