3
981 Words
Jade~
With my chest swelling with fury, I stomped toward the bedside where Mark was. Before they could react, I yanked the blanket off their bodies, exposing them completely. "Now get the hell off my bed!" I yelled, my muscles tense. "You can use the storage room if you want to keep going."
When they hesitated, I swung my hand at Mark aggressively, but he dodged and scrambled over the other side of the bed. Clara followed him immediately.
I ripped the bedsheet off and threw it at them. "Take this with you so you don't hurt your skin before you finish..."
Clara winced loudly, sitting on the floor and clutching her ankle. "I sprained my ankle, Mom..." she whined, just like she always did, and they rushed to her side.
I paid them no attention while checking the items on my headboard, when my father's voice rang through the air. "How dare you, Jade? This is my house, and you don't misbehave under my roof."
His face had gone pale, and he kept pointing at me while he spoke. He probably would have hit me if I'd been closer, then claimed that I'd hurt their precious daughter in his house.
I adjusted my jeans. "So now you're saying this isn't my house? On what grounds do I have to keep staying here?" I gestured, maintaining eye contact with him. "Fine. I'll leave your house, if that's what will make all of you happy."
I snorted and quickly began packing my things.
They watched without stopping me. Mark was already fully dressed, along with his new girlfriend.
"Maybe I'd show some mercy if you begged, Jade. If you leave, you'll end up on the street living an uncomfortable life, so just apologize to Clara, and I'll forgive you," my father ranted, sounding disappointed by my pride.
My mother added, "Yes, Jade! Don't make it look like we're kicking you out because of your sister. You could just apologize for hurting her and be given a second chance."
I had so much to say to them, but it would waste too much time.
And who said they were kicking me out? I was leaving for the sake of my sanity. Who stays where they're not wanted?
They weren't even ashamed that my younger sister had caused this disgusting scene, yet they wanted me to be the good girl and grovel on the floor because she sprained her ankle. She should be grateful she could still walk.
It doesn't hurt not being the favorite daughter. If they'd loved me from the start, they wouldn't have left me with my grandpa until I turned fifteen. Even after I returned, they never cared much about me and never bothered sending me to college, despite knowing how brilliant I was in high school.
But they invested heavily in Clara, who didn't even care about her future. Sure, she was brilliant too and excelled in college, but she acted like she had no plan—more focused on stealing every man from me.
When I finally zipped my bag shut, I turned to see them all still watching in shock. "What? Didn't you want me to give you breathing room in your house?"
"You could just apologize to your sister, and all this would end," Mark said, his voice so demure, as though he were innocent.
The sight of him irritated me even more. I was already used to my parents favoring my sister over me. They'd tell me to lick Clara's boots if it would make her happy... but I'd never given a damn about them, and I was fed up with their nonsense.
"Sorry, everyone," I managed to say, dragging my luggage behind me as I left the room.
They followed me out, watching as I headed toward the front door. Not one of them tried to stop me.
"You're putting this risk on yourself, Jade!" my father called out as I was about to close the door.
I'd always known I wasn't welcome, but now I was certain I'd never been wrong about that.
They didn't want me around and never knew how to kick me out, so they made that room unbearable. There were so many times Clara caused a mess, and they expected me to clean it up. She destroyed my things, and they pretended to be deaf and dumb, never replacing them.
What a waste of time with them, I thought, blowing out a frustrated breath. I dragged my luggage out of the compound entirely, then hailed a cab back to the workshop.
Checking the time, my uncle should still be at work, so I'd catch him there.
As I was pulling money from my pocket to pay the driver, I touched the condoms I'd bought and sighed angrily. Another waste of money, I thought, carrying my luggage toward the workshop.
Uncle Duncan saw me and rushed over, taking the luggage from me. He looked me in the face and asked curiously, "Is everything okay at home? What happened?"
I swallowed hard and slid my hands into my pockets. "Some homes are too hard to stay in, and staying with them was even harder."
He grinned and patted my shoulder. "Then staying here won't be hard, you know? I'll make it comfortable for you..." he assured me, walking into the building, and I followed behind.
This moment made me recall the first time I'd come to this workshop to stay with Uncle Duncan after returning to my family, and how my father had spoken ill of him, warning me to stay away.
So, what if I'd listened to him then? Who would have taken me in now?
I was his apprentice, and I'd never seen anything like what my parents claimed about him. Now I only hoped I never would, because if I ended up leaving this place, I'd be homeless.
- Writer
