Choose Wisely

Chapter Four: Braving the Storm

I thought that having a father meant they would love you. Care for you. And never let anyone hurt you. Then as I grew, and I learned, I thought that if I became the person that my father wanted me to be- I would finally please him. And then everything- love, care and protectiveness- would follow. 

Finally, as secret after secret was revealed to me, I thought... that having a father meant that my life was a prison and he held the key. That he was no father, not in any true sense of the word, and that he was in actual sense- my captor. 

Then I learnt to stop thinking where my father was concerned. 

Because ideas have power. 

And power in the wrong hands is dangerous. 

And only my father could wield power. 

"Daddy, look what I have," I cried out, rushing back to him as fast as my six-year-old legs could carry me. "Just for you Daddy." 

In my hands, I held a perfectly shaped snowflake. It was so cold that it had frozen into something solid and something that stayed. I raised my cupped hands to him, hoping he would like it. Daddy looked down at me, an expression I didn't recognise on his face. Then he took the snowflake from my hands.

And crushed it in his.

"Beauty is weakness, Natalia," he told me, his eyes hard. I could barely hear the words as I saw the pieces of the snowflake fall from his hands. 

Like pieces of a broken heart.

"Why," he asked me, letting the whip slither across the ground. I heard the sound of the leather whispering against the stone and braced my shaking body against it. "do you never learn, Natalia?

Crack. 

I muffled another scream as the pain ripped through my back. He never liked weakness. I couldn't be weak. Or the punishment would be doubled.

"I asked you a question!"

Crack.  

"I'm sorry, Father," I cried out, holding in the urge to dissolve into screams. "I will try to learn." 

"Yes," he whispered. "You try and learn, girl. You try and learn." 

"You should understand this!" he shouted at me. "I have taught you once over- you should know it by now! What else have I got to do?" 

"I'm sorry, Father," I apologised. "It's just I haven't gotten the hang of it yet. If you could just teach it to me again-" 

"Again?" Father snapped. "Once, I can forgive- your schooling and your pathetic teachers may not be up to the task. But twice? When I have already taught you?" 

"Maybe..." I struggled to keep the words flowing. "Maybe if I had a tutor- you wouldn't have to w-waste-" I quailed before I could finish as his face became thunderous, riddled with anger.

"A tutor?" he spat. "I might as well be announcing to the world that my eldest daughter is as ill-educated as one of street scum!"

"Second eldest," I corrected quietly.

"What did you say?" he said, taken aback. But though shock came first... anger was never far behind.

"Second eldest," I said, louder. "Daniella was first."

"You dare to speak her name?" Father shook his head. "She was worst than street-folk. She betrayed-"

"Daniella wanted a different path in life!" I argued, standing up so that my chair scraped backwards. "Is that so terrible, to want something different than a Choice that is defined far from its name?"