“Living room.”
I proceed to follow him and my mother, my head down. What the hell is wrong with him? He’s acting like I’ve committed an unforgivable crime.
He motions for me to sit on the couch next to my mother then stands in front of us, in an intentional authoritative stance, his arms folded, and legs spread apart.
“It’s like we don’t even know you anymore, Charlotte,” he sharply scolds.
Oh good, he’s digging right in. The pacing begins right away with stern glares at me as he continues his unfair berating.
“You’ve barely been home the last week, not telling us anything about what you’re doing or where you’re going andnow,we find out from his parents you’re dating Ben? You’ve been extremely disrespectful to your mother and I with how you’ve spoken to us. You’ve bailed on our family time and game nights together, and you’ve been sneaking around with some boy. You’re like a completely different person. You’ve lost our trust, Charlotte.”
“He’s not just some boy. He’s Ben, youknowhim. Plus, I haven’t done anything wrong. I’m an adul—”
“You still live under our roof, young lady. You have got to communicate with us. Are you and Ben being safe?” The last word catches in his throat like it’s painful.
“Oh my God, yes. We’re not even doing anything,” I lie, embarrassed he would even ask me that. “I’m not an idiot. You guys raised me right.”
“Don’t call us ‘guys’ and donottalk down to us like that.” His nostrils flare and a redness overtakes his skin traveling from his face down past his neck. What’s making him so mad?
“I wasn’t eve—”
“From now on, curfew. Every night you must be home by eleven.No exceptions.”
I shoot up, outraged. “That’s not fair! This is ridiculous! What’d I even do?” I exasperate, flailing my arms dramatically.
He continues spouting rules, ignoring me. “Your phone will be kept downstairs after eleven and you will not be able to have it in your room. You are only allowed to see Ben under supervision max three days a week.”
“Honey…” my mom cuts in gently. She stands up and reaches for his arm, but he jerks it away violently.
“Absolutely not. These rules are extremely unfair. I’m not some child who needs to be disciplined. I’ve donenothingwrong! Bailing on one game night shouldn’tmake you lose your trust. That doesn’t even make any sense! And I’ve never had to tell you where I’ve been before. Why are you being like this?”
“Until you learn to respect yourself and your mother and I, this is how it’s going to be.”
God, I want to fucking deck him. A pounding in my ears drowns out external noises, followed by a high-pitched ringing. My heart beats so hard it shakes my body with every beat. The rage at my father nears to the point of hating him. I refuse to adhere to these rules. I’m not going to be his prisoner just because he can’t accept that I’m growing up.
Before I can lead my feet, they lead me, taking me away from him and up the stairs. My brain and body work on their own agenda.
I stomp each foot onto each step up the stairs, savoring the sting reverberating into my bones.
“Where do you think you’re going, young lady. We are not done here,” he shouts into the hall from the living room, his voice getting closer as he chases me. My mother’s no help, pathetically turtle shelling, providing no barrier between him or I.
I ignore him, continuing up the stairs and grab a suitcase out of the hallway closet. Flinging it open on thebed, I throw my computer, clothes, and anything else I may need into it.
My father’s stomps up the stairs are almost as loud as his shouts. “Charlotte Rose Windsor, what do you think you’re doing?”
I can’t stand to look at him, so I keep my back turned, ignoring him. “I’m leaving. I’m not dealing with this. I don’t deserve to be treated like a prisoner in my own home. I’ve donenothingwrong.”
I continue packing, this time grabbing a few things out of my closet. He takes hold of my bicep and whips me around, his grip painfully tight and pinching the skin between his fingernails. Flashbacks of Jared and the bonfire flood my mind triggering fear and further anger.
In a low voice I growl, “Do notevertouch me like that again.”
I death glare at him and rip my arm out of his grip, fighting every urge in me to physically push him away.
“You are not leaving this house, Charlotte. I forbid it.”
“Get out of my way!” I lug the suitcase past him and struggle out the front door. Mom’s standing at the top of the stairs, tears rolling down her cheeks.
“Thanks for not helping at all,” I spit at her, daring her to say something to defend herself.
