Coincidence & Consequence

Chapter 2

"Amelia Rose! What did we talk about?" an overweight woman boomed. Her chapped lips were covered in bright red lipstick and her blonde, thin hair curled and covered in hairspray. The pale, freckled redheaded girl looked up at the woman.

"Sorry Mother. I wanted to go onto the swingset one last time before it is thrown away."

"Geez, call me Lisa! "Mother" makes me feel old! I will let it slide this last time. I don't want you to get hurt because of the rotting wood, that's all." her mom responded, scowl loosening.

"Is it time for dinner?" Amelia Rose asked as her stomach growled.

"Is that all you kids want?" Lisa threw her hands into the air, "that's all I hear! Not a "how was your day Lisa" or "you look nice today!" Even my lazy husband is getting into the act!" Amelia Rose gave her an unamused glace as she picked up her Kindle and walked to the small living room next to the kitchen. The scent of garlic wafted through each room causing Amelia Rose to cough and gasp. A trail of thick smoke led a path to a man in a bathrobe sitting in the leather arm chair of the small room. His cigar glowed red on the end.

"Be careful, Dad. That stuff's dangerous!" Amelia Rose begged, concern rising in her voice.

"Aw don't worry about me, lil' girl. Nothin too flammable around here- I think!"

"Okay, just be careful anyways! Lisa will be upset if you ruin anything!" She walked past him quickly, to the front door. Opening it wide, she darted back out into the open air. She could finally relax.

"Sometimes you feel like you just can't breath in there." she turned to see her twin brother, sitting there with a cigar, looking up into the sky.

"Well, you don't help much with that. You shouldn't smoke" Amelia Rose frowned. The redheaded boy grinned at her, eyes crinkling sarcastically.

"I don't mean that. You know Lisa's scolding and Dad's carelessness. Need to get away from all that every once in a while." he gazed at the rows of apartment buildings. "Not quite home... Speaking of getting away, you should find yourself some friends to hang out with. Other than me."

"I don't need any friends," Amelia Rose turned away, "all they do is disappoint and betray me."

"Rosey, that was once!"

"I don't want to talk about this..." They sat in silence, breathing in the crisp night air before shouts proclaiming dinner rung from inside the house.

"Everybody, say your prayers before you take even one bite of that delicious lasagna that your mother made!" Everybody, meaning Christine and her parents, bent their heads down in prayer. Christine smelled the fresh meat and cheese platter and could hardly wait until the prayer was over. But she knew that eating before praying would not be tolerated.

"Alright. You may eat. Remember Christine: tonight is Family Game Night!"

"Ugh Mom! Not this again! Can't I just go watch a show and you and Dad could work on your lawyer stuff?" Christine whined.

"No! Family Movie Night is Friday! You know how this goes!" her father mused as he straightened his tie. "Your mother and I want to be there for you. It must be lonely to be an only child."

"Well, you don't need to keep me on such a tight leash! Other kids get to watch TV and can go outside whenever they want" Christine snapped back.

"Your father and I are only worried that you don't have a lot of support! You know what happened five years ago!" her mother entered the conversation after finishing her prayer.

"That happened five years ago! Stop bringing it up! I'm going upstairs!" Christine shouted, as tears threatened. Her parents glanced at each other, not with surprise. More like annoyance.

Christine looked at them, waiting for apologies, but they had seemed to reach an agreement.

"We don't like to ground you," her father started, "but we think you need some time to yourself. You can stay upstairs for the rest of the evening. No electronics for the next few days. You need to learn to calm your temper."

"Psh, no electronics? I don't even get any electronics except my phone! And even that has a screen limit! You can do better than that-"

"Go upstairs!" her father thundered.

Christine pounded up the stairs and slammed the door to her room. Her face grew blotchy and red as tears stained her olive skin. She turned around and threw her lamp onto the ground. Binders hit the floor and paper flew everywhere as Christine pushed over the desk. FInally, she pulled out her diary and filled page after page with angry words.

When she had reached the fourth page, she dropped her pen and book, collapsing onto her bed. Eyelids closing, her breath steadied and she drifted into a restful sleep.