Fate Spinner

Dreamer

"We'll be rich if you keep going like this!" Shouted my father as he climbed back into his dusty, worn out car with his winning tickets clasped tightly in his hands. "You did it again, Dalia, you won!"

"How much did we get?"

My dad grinned as he clipped in his worn seatbelt and started the engine of the car. He threw his wallet at me, "See for yourself."

I opened the worn leather wallet and fingered through the countless notes. "Dad? Is this really all ours?"

He pulled away from the dirty betting shop, the owner an angry smudge barely visible through the window. "Yep, he was pretty pissed off about it too. From a ten pound bet we made £864.50. Such an oddly rounded number. Going to need to find a new place to put them on."

I sighed as I pushed a lock of hair from my face, "You understand I probably won't be this lucky forever?"

"I know," he said. "So we'll have to soak it all up while we can." He was giddy from his win. But I felt like I'd just cheated some one. He noticed my guilty look from the corner of his eye and gave my chin a tap. "Don't feel bad. It's no-one else's money, they all gave it away expecting to win. But they didn't win. We won. I think we'll have to go to the Grand National this year!"

"Dad you know how I feel about horse racing. It's basically animal abuse, I disagree with it totally and I refuse to win money off a poorly treated animal that will be disposed of inhumanely once it is incapable of creating any more profit for the owner."

The road was empty, probably most people were inside enjoying time as a family. "I'm not having this conversation again, they are not badly treated. They are pure bred animals and they are looked after greatly."

I left the conversation at that then and turned to look out of my foggy window. A child stood at the side of the road with his mother, he held her hand as if he was going to fly away like a balloon if he let go. She barely seemed to notice him while she was talking away on her phone.

"Hey now," my dad whispered. "We'll be okay."

"How do you know that?" I asked.

And by his silenced reply I realised that he didn't.

After a short while of uncomfortable silence we returned home, the grey asphalt streaked black with burnt rubber. We didn't live in that great of a neighbourhood, and every small detail proved point.

In the distance smashing glass and car alarms could be heard, but you learned to ignore it. My dad practically jumped out of the car and made his way to the small building we called home. He never even bothered to lock the car anymore, it just wasn't worth that much.

"Do you want me to go get food?" I asked, as I knew the kitchen would probably be bare.

My dad grunted as he pressed a £20 note into my palm. "You choose." Just as he was about to enter the house he gave me another twenty, "Go bet on something. Anything."