KEEFER Of The Lost Cities

CHAPTER SIX

Keefe was right. The next day was no short of awesome.

At school.

Home was a different matter. A totally, completely different matter.

"Keefe." His fathers monotonous voice came in his nightmares, not unlike the creepy way his mother spoke to him. Something was off though. He smelled like gulon gas... what was that abou- oh, never mind

"Yes, Daddy Dear?" He asked, sarcastically. "Do you need something?"

"Look what I found in your room." He said, holding up a notebook filled to the brim with his sketches. It was the only sketchbook he had left, and didn't even know why he still had that. It was from so long ago- Keefe didn't draw anymore, after his father had ripped all his drawings. Why Keefe still had it, he didn't know. But it made sense why his father smelled like gulon gas.

"It's nice to see you fell for my trap- quite literally, right, daddy?"

Lord Cassius glared at him "Why were you drawing instead of studying? Even after I told you to stop"

Keefe's joking shell fell, (Oh, lol that rhymes) "Um, that was from before." He noticed Helia peeking out from behind the door, her daughter Amaryl behind her, but he knew she couldn't do anything. It had happened before, and all Cassius had done was politely excuse her, and go back to yelling at Keefe. Helia didn't have to help as much as she did.

She didn't have to make him breakfast and dinner everyday, she didn't have to help him clean his room. None of the gnomes had to do much, but Helia took charge as Keefe's mom, after his mother started caring less and less, not that she ever cared a lot. Actually, Helia was more like his aunt, since Della was like a mother to him too.

Why did his life have to be so complicated? Why couldn't everything be easy for him, like with the Vackers?

Why couldn't he have parents that actually cared?

"Before? BEFORE?? Before when I ripped all your drawings?"

Keefe slumped "Not this one."

"Why did you rig it with gulon gas?" Cassius demanded.

Why did he? He gave up drawing years ago. But just the thought of seeing his father rip the things he worked so hard on, laboring hour after hour for each beautiful picture, it just... he couldn't explain it, but it was just terrible. But he guessed the gulon gas didn't stop his father.

"I don't know." He answered, unable to tell him why.

"Then you won't mind me doing this." He grabbed the top of the first page and ripped the page out. Keefe opened his mouth in protest but closed it. At least he didn't rip the actual drawing. Maybe he could scrounge around the trash collecting all of the pages his dad ripped. Or.. why did he want to save them so much? Why did they matter?

Even though he was an empath, he had a hard time understanding his own feelings. He understood when Fitz was angry or happy, even Biana, especially Foster.

But when it came to his own... ugh, why are emotions so complicated?

(Do elves have trash, or is that too bad for the earth? Obviously they don't have to throw out food, because of like, compost, and they can recycle other stuff- okay, they probably don't have trash, but trash sounds worse than recycling, so I'm keeping it)

But then his father grabbed the page and ripped it down the center. That's still okay- he could tape it(Do elves have tape? What do they use to stick stuff together?) together. Then ripped those two pieces in half. That's okay, he could like, make it a puzzle and start selling them for like, newborn elves. His father ripped it again. Okay, a puzzle for a little older elves. Again, and again, and again- okay, a puzzle for very smart genius elves.

But finally, he had to accept there was no hope for his drawing, and with every new rip, that was another piece of his heart that Lord Cassius had ripped apart single-handedly. And finally, with the last rip, the pieces fell to the floor, taking his shredded heart with him.

Why did he care so much about a stupid drawing that nobody liked? He opened his mouth to say something snarky, but a tear silently slipped down his cheek instead. He furiously scrubbed it away, hating everything. He noticed his mother behind his father, who was busy ripping every single drawing in that notebook, and with every rip that Keefe heard, another tear slipped down. His mother noticed this, and for half a second, her face softened, but immediately turned hard and cold, like his mother was. He hated her too. The entire floor was covered with shredded paper, each holding a piece of his heart.

From then on, he promised himself one thing. He would never let his parents get to him. Ever. Even if one of them tried to murder him, though that would never happen because elves get guilty and their minds shatter. But after today, Keefe didn't care.

And just as Keefe made his inner promise, his father made the final flourish of his hand, and the last drawing, or what was left of it, rained on the ground, taking what was left of the care for his parents with it. And when the first piece touched the ground, it was the first second when Keefe felt free. Well, the second- the first time was when he was younger. As he thought about it, the memory came to him, and he stood there silently, while his father yelled, and his mother stayed silent. And he remembered the first time he had felt free.

(YESSS FLASHBACK SCENE!!!! And I based it off the real book, but it changes perspective and I add a few adjectives and stuff like that- oh, and feelings, so it's not exactly the same as in the book)

Lord Cassius loomed over younger Keefe, shouting."Alden is not your father!"

"I wish he was!" Young Keefe had snapped back, tearing off his blue Level Two cape and throwing it across the room.

"Well," Lord Cassius said, straightening and smoothing his slicked blond hair and glancing at Keefe's mother, who stood off to the side studying her son through narrowed eyes. "I suppose that makes us even, since I much prefer Alden's sons. But since I'm stuck with this"—he gestured to Keefe from head to toe and wrinkled his nose, his eyes rolling, clearly disappointed—"I'm not going to let you ruin our family!"

Keefe had smirked, and immediately knew that things were going to be different. "Good luck with that." He finally knew the real reason Lord Cassius was so hard on him, and it wasn't because he wanted Keefe to do better for himself. It was to keep his reputation. He didn't want to be embarrassed. Keefe had finally found his weak spot, and now Cassius was going to pay. His father must've felt that resolve, because he flung the goblet he'd been holding, splattering Keefe's feet with fizzleberry wine as it shattered against the floor.

"Clean that up!" Lord Cassius ordered. "And plan on spending your entire break making up for your lack of dedication. I'll have your first study assignments sent to you in the morning."

"Running off to Atlantis again?" Lady Gisela had asked as Lord Cassius stalked toward the staircase.

"Don't start with me," he told her. "And don't wait up." Her eyes flashed and she lifted her chin, keeping her head high until he was gone.

"Well," she told Keefe. "Sounds like you have some work to do." She was halfway down the stairs when she glanced over her shoulder. "Keefe?" she said, waiting for him to look at her. "Someday, you'll be glad you're not a Vacker."

Keefe didn't know what that last part meant, but someday was not now, and now, he wished he was a Vacker more than anything in the world.

Okay. I'm not sure if I already said this, but to add more fun, I'm doing a mini chapter after every chapter.

~Zara