Fragmented

Chapter Four

"You're being dramatic." Her father waved her off on the way to his new sanctuary.

The shack had become his favourite place; crawling back in there whenever he felt incapable of dealing with the women in the house.

Agnes walked hastily to keep up.

"And you're running away!" She was irked he always avoided any discussions that did not concern tools or machinery.

"I'm busy." Her father argued heartlessly as he fidgeted with the old lock, desperately wanting to escape another endless argument about who was more conflict-averse.

"You cannot keep expecting me to follow your commands! I'm almost seventeen, I can be alone for two days!"

"You're in a new country in the middle of nowhere, far away from hospitals and any means of technology. I will hear no more of this."

"Whose idea was it to move here in the first place?!" Agnes was now outraged. She had never thought her parents could top their unreasonable behaviour when they decided to relocate, but this was breaking the meter.

"You will stay at home and agree to these conditions. You're not an adult just yet young lady!" She took a step back in surprise.

He was angry. She had rarely seen him lose it, but knew from the strained veins in his forehead he was serious. It alarmed her, yet she felt her skin prickle with frustration. He was the one being unfair. They had left her alone before, without even consulting her on the matter. What was so different this time?

"I won't." Agnes kept her voice calm, yet defiant. This time, they would not be the cause of her degradation. Under no circumstances would she agree to spend two days with the boy who had her look like a fool more times than she was willing to admit. It was unreasonable in more ways than she could count.

He turned to face her head on. His voice almost a whisper, but rattling like a snake's tale. "Did you not hear me just then?" Agnes could not recall having ever had as heated an argument with her father before. Not with anyone. She did not understand why he was acting so strongly against her. In her mind, she had made far more outrageous demands commencing far less fuss.

"Do you not see how completely unreasonable you're being?" Agnes almost begged. She was relinquishing herself but also on the verge of tears. The situation was obscure. She felt discarded in every sense. Her parents seemed like strangers. Never had they acted so aimlessly spiteful towards her. They had always been able to talk in a civilised manner. It seemed like a past life to her now. Her father smacked the door to the shack loudly behind him, echoing his mood.

The next couple of days went by with choking silence. Her father did not speak a word to her, and acted almost as if she did not exist. The only conversations she had were whenever her mum called her down for dinner. Which meant no conversations at all, really.

She spent the days desolate in her room until she had no fluids left in her body. Her eyes were constantly swollen and red, but her parents did not seem to notice.

At night, Agnes would sneak half way down the staircase and listen to their conversations. They were barely audible and rarely long, but occasionally she heard her mum mention her name, leading to hushed voices followed by uneasy scrambling around in the kitchen.

How it had spiralled out of control so quickly had Agnes perplexed.

***

On Tuesday morning, Agnes made her way downstairs at her mother's hail.

To her dismay she was met by both of her parents, as they sat jointly by the living room table with folded hands. Evidently, they had been planning this for some time.