Alison Harold

Chapter 1

"I'm not going," Alison objected as she twirled her fork in her pasta, brown eyes gazing deep into her food while she waited for a reply she feared might not come at all.

Mrs. Harold paused mid sipping her coffee and Mr. Harold looked up from his paper, his reading glasses resting slightly below the bridge of his nose as he gave his daughter a disapproving look.

Her parents glanced at each other for a second before continuing with their meal as though she hadn't just said something. Alison gnashed her teeth together in annoyance. She had to stop them before it was too late. They'd controlled her whole life, she'd done everything they'd asked of her without a single complaint but this... this was something she couldn't do. It was something she wouldn't do.

Alison looked up at her parents, a look of strong determination plastered on her face. "I'm not going to boarding school."

"Alison." Mr. Harold growled in annoyance. "You know the rules. Do not speak when we're having any meal at the table."

"But we wouldn't get to talk about it after now..."

"Be quiet."

"...not when you two disappear every morning and come home late at night..."

"Be quiet."

"...I barely get to see either of you."

"Be quiet!" Mr. Harold roared.

"Please!" Alison cried, as she looked to her mother for help, help she sensed she wasn't getting.

"There's nothing you can do about it, Alison," Mrs. Harold told her as she dabbed her mouth with a napkin. Her mother looked indifferent about the whole situation; she obviously wasn't concerned about Alison's needs or desires, neither of them were. "Just do as you're told and everything will be fine."

"But I don't want to," Alison pleaded. "Not this time."

"Not that it would make any difference but may I hear your reason?" Mr. Harold asked.

"I..." What was her reason again? Oh yes! "Socio phobia."

He gave her a disgruntled look. "But you've been visiting the library quite religiously."

"That's different. Plus, it's just three buildings down the street. It's never crowded. It's always calm and quiet there. And... at least I don't get to sleep, breathe and eat with a bunch of strangers."

"Aren't you tired of homeschooling?" Mrs. Harold wondered. "You sit home all day doing nothing with no idea of what happens outside these walls. Sometimes we wonder if you're normal."

Alison clenched her fist and glared at her mother. "Are you saying it's my fault I'm like this?"

"No one's blaming you but at least if you made an attempt to change then things wouldn't be so difficult for you right now."

"It's not that easy!" She snapped.

"Watch your tone," Mr. Harold warned sternly. "And get that look off your face will you?"

Alison tried to calm down as she relaxed back in her seat. "I'm sorry," she said and unclenched her fist.

"If you really are then you'd comply with our decision without any trouble," Mrs. Harold said almost as if the die was cast.

Alison raked a hand through her curly hair in frustration. "Do you not remember what happened the last time you sent me to school?"

"What? You stabbing those kids?"

"They bullied me for weeks! I was bound to explode at some point."

"Still, you had no right!"

"I was nine!"