Chapter 1

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"FATHER? MUM? WHERE ARE YOU GUYS!" I yelled worried racing around the house desperately calling for the attention of my parents "HELLO! IS ANYONE H-" I heard screaming come from downstairs.

 It was my parents. They were fighting an awful lot in the past, and I never knew why. I ran down the stairs following the screams. 

Finally, I heard the door slam shut. Walking down the hall to the living room I stood still as my eyes caught the recognition of my father sitting on the couch. Face covered with his palms as I could see his leg taping furiously against the floor in an attempt to calm himself down.

"Father, what happened? What was all the screaming?" My eyes darted around the room to catch any hints of what may have happened. 

The book selves looked untouched, as did the black leather couches and assortments of decor pieces laid across the glass coffee table put in between them.

"Malia go back to your room." he whispered. My father always kept an untouched and unbothered aroma yet I could feel the tension roaming around him.

"Father where's Mother?"

His voice was stern yet held back as he finally spoke releasing his face out of his palms to look at me. "She went out. She'll be back later. Go to sleep, and don't wait up for her."

Mother always took off after her fights with Father so I was use to her being out for a couple of hours every so often. It was normal at this point. 

The tension would build, they would fight. Then she would leave for the rest of the day while father cooled off in his study. She would come back and they would go back to their loving selves while pretending nothing had ever happened. 

As for me, I would stay in the library and get occupied with a new story every day in order to get my mind off my parents' bickering. 

I appreciate the consistency of a good routine yet this one was getting old and I was growing sick and tired of it. My parents were far than immature. Although, when it came down to their communication they definitely fell behind in that department.

"Father, is this ever going to end?" I asked concerned. He lifted his chin in challenge to hear whatever pathetic statement he thought I would make. "Why does this have to happen all the time? I understand that parents fight but Father this has gone off for too long!"

"Malia Snape I didn't ask to hear your thoughts on the matter. You've definitely made it clear NUMEROUS times on your opinion on the situation. Now go to bed!" Father demanded. He stood up and begin to walk past me on his way to his study.

"Father, please just listen-" He turned around facing me to cut me off.

"This should NOT be of your concern Malia. GO TO BED," He stormed as I winced at his sudden reaction. 

I sighed before sinking down onto the couch. I could feel my stomach drop at the feeling of disappointment. I began to scratch my bottom lip with my fingernail as I shut my eyes closed trying to prevent my tears from escaping. 

I began letting my thoughts slip out of my head as I opened my eyes and looked across the room to the fireplace. My head felt clear as I focused my attention on the crackling pops emerging from the burnt red flames spread across panels of chopped wood. 

It was unlike father to have lashed out of me like that. Although I understood why he did, I honestly don't understand why men feel the need to process their emotions through anger. Did they not know of any other way to clear their heads?

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