Emeline Maier
His eyes held back a winter storm waiting to be released. His face remained expressionless as he stares down at me. Oh boy! If looks could kill i would be laying in a body bag. My family's manssion was an enormous building but somehow it felt small. The tension was so thick, not even a knife could slice through.
I smiled awkwardly at my dad who threw daggers at me. As a child growing up I recall my dad always sulking. There was not one day throughout my sixteen years on this earth that the man smiled, which was sort of puzzling. We all have our bad days but my dad always seem to have bad days. He was way worst than a pregnant lady who has mood swings. I recall him always in hot water with his dad. My dad speaks english but sometimes it sounded like a completely diffferent language. The man always speaks in code I didn't know why though. The question that puzzled me the most and left me with pounding headaches whenever i thought about it. The fact that I had not one clue what my parents did for a living. Lets just minus my mother. She is clearly a shopohollic while my dad was a complete mystery.
My mom spent her days planning dinner arrangements. She spends majority of her time in spa's and salons. She was the type who changes hairstyles on a regular basis and her closet as often as she changes her underwear. When I say material things, my family falls in the top two. My Grandpa was the wealthiest man in all of europe. I dont think there will ever be none as wealthy as the man. My Grandpa was also a big mystery. But unlike my stoned face father he clearly knew how to spend quality time with family.
As a todlor growing up i was often told how much Resembled my mom. I swear anyone who said that needs to consult a Ophthalmologists because i dont see any resemblnce.While others would say i am the splitting image of my grandmother. I couldn't protest thouhg. I didnt know if the woman was dead or alive. I don't know what she looks like. Whenever I thought about her I saw the older version of myself as her. My mom told me she was adopted by a wealthy couple who couldnt bear children of their own. But whenever I asked her about her foster parents she would change the subject. Not to mention when I ask about her birth parents. Its strange for a young girl my age to not know my own relatives by my mothers side of the family. I know she was hiding something from me. I couldn't pin point it.
As we entered the huge lounge we were greeted gingerly by the house maids. The held their heads down low. None liabe or worthy to look in the eyes of my father, neither did they look in mine. I always scold them bout it. I knew they weren't comfortable about it. But I couldnt blame them though. Majority of the sevants in my dad's mansion had family to provide for. And knowing my dad, he would cut each and everyone who disobey his orders. I was scared for the servants. I had no idea what my father was capable of doing and I wasn't going to call him innocent. The man was the devil himself. Only the devil would abuse his powers the way my dad did.
Despite his bad personality, the man was my dad after all. I loved and apreciate him to the fullest of my extent. the atributes which he posesed that I truly despised was the fact that he makes all my life decisions. I never get to choose or make deecisions for myself. Even my very friends were chosen wisely. I was never allowed to attend public school's. Every school I attend were private and all my friends had to be in the upper class of society. Which was unfair but that wouldn't stop me from talking to people my parents consider to be swatters.
Maybe he thinks he's doing the right thing. But my Grandfather was a loving man. He had friends from all classes, therefore he's the most loved man across Europe. There are people who would die for him. Unlike my dad who was mean and agressive. Maybe he had a rough childhood?
Its just odd though. Having parents that I dont know anything about. I was cut off by my dad's thundrous voice. "What on earth were you doing in a thrift shop!"
"I'm so disappointed in you!" His eyes were dark as he stared down at me. I reeked of embarrassment. The maids were standing in the room. And he choze to embarrass me infront of them. But I knew better than to answer the man that called himself my father. I knew he would make my life a living nightmare. Because thats what he was good at. He was good at making people miserable. How could I blame my mother for fearing the demon that towered above me. How can I not fear him myself.
I was tuggged fro my thoughts by the shaky butler who entered the room. He was the only person I could trust in this cold place we called home. He made me feel safe and gives words of encouragements.
"Mr. Maier a call for you."
"Get out!"
The butler remained in his spot not fazed by my fathers sudden outburst. The man was used to his behaviour. "Its your father Sir. He said it rather urgent."
My dad rolled his eyes before cursing under his breath. He harshly pulled the phone from the butler hand before ushering him out of the room.
He glared at me one last time before summoning a maid to run me a bath. "Get cleaned up. You look despicable."
"In my study afterwards."
A lump formed in the back of my throat. I was well aware that my punishment was going to be one that I can't forget.