Leaving Home

"You're worth nothing to me." He spat down at my slouching form, shoulders hunched over and kneecaps pressed together, with my hands holding each other under my thighs.

"What has happened to you has not only affected myself, but the very name of my family." He tried to explain with as much arrogance as he could muster.

It is my family, too! I wanted to scream at him so much that restraining myself started to seem pointless. I knew where this was going. I knew what was coming my way; I've seen many being sentenced to the same fate.

"I am very sorry." No you're not!

"But I have to do this." No you don't!

"Emma, you have been asked to leave these grounds by Sir Casten, and I must re-enforce this decision." It's done.

"You are to never return. If you dare to step foot on this land again, Sir Casten will have no choice but to execute you." I'm finished.

Where am I to go?

What am I to do?

"I shall send the maids to help you pack your things. Only of which you own, whatever we have donated or bought you shall be kept. For better use." I knew what he was talking about.

Why give me such fine clothes to die in? That's what surely is going to become of me.

Whether a rogue decides to slit my throat while I sleep under a tree for shelter, or I end up dying of natural causes; disease, starvation, dehydration, exposure, getting mauled by a feral animal, the list goes on.

I slammed my feet on the hardwood floor and pushed the vintage arm chair behind me as I stood up straight. I only came up to my Father's chin, but I could remember when I was little and I used to jump up and down to even reach his belt.

"You disgust me, and I am ashamed I was ever a part of this family or traitors and scum." I spat flem on to his cream waistcoat, but his face resembled calm.

I backed away from him; I blinked, expecting a flood of salty tears to come pouring down from my eyes, but nothing. Why am I not crying? I have just lost everything. My family. My home. My only friends.

I dug my nails into the palm of my hands which started to moisten my eyes.

I guess I was never good at expressing my feelings.

I turned towards the office door and stormed out, I didn't bother to close, and the lazy toad can do it himself for all I care.

I sped my pace to a sprint down the wide hallway, dodging maids carrying cream towels and butlers with silver trays with empty plates and half empty coffee mugs.

I ran past all the bedrooms, I ran past all the waiting rooms, all the dining rooms, all the sitting rooms until I finally reached the small, tatty door that led on to mine. I was all the way at the other side of the house now.

I entered my room to already find a maid, whose name I could scarcely begin to remember, packing any necessities into a small leather trunk.

"Get off my things! I'll do it" I stormed over to the maid and roughly pushed her out of the way.

"Sorry, m'lady." Her quiet voice only grated against my nerves.

"Just go away, you're not needed." I put on a stupid impression of Father's voice as I shovelled some cotton shirts into the small trunk.

"Yes, m'lady." Now she sounded slightly puzzled, almost as if she knew I was on the brink of losing my sanity, and she didn't want to be anywhere near me when I did.