Her Arrival

CHAPTER 1| Gone?

ages and characters:

Azalea - 15
Giovanni - 21
Elijah - 20
Nicholas - 18
Aidan - 17
Elliot- 16

I've been pacing back and forth around this damn 'living room' for ages now.

Stefano has yet to return and I'm really not sure if I should be happy or absolutely terrified.

I got a detention for being late today, which means they called him and he's more than likely on his way to give me 'a taste of his own medicine' or whatever he calls it.

Which is basically a lecture that usually esculates to.. well, violence and bottles being smashed all over the floor. That stuff.

In all honesty, sometimes I think I deserve it, other times I know it's not me, just him and his.. issues.

He can't help it— and considering his child is the potential cause of his wife's death must be hard to live with.  He tells me he's been in therapy ever since and that he'll get better. We'll be a happy family and leave London for somewhere better, where we can restart and have the greatest life we can.

I'm still counting days on my calendar.

Me and him never had any sort of connection or relationship, it started with him simply just ignoring me or neglecting. I've gotten used to it now, really. Sometimes it's better to have him ignore me than notice me.

Then, he became more - violent.
Instead of just pretending I didn't exist, he started hitting me and bringing his friends over so they could 'help' him with his job.

This is just an idea, but I think he may be using drugs. Alcohol, I do in fact know of. He always buys bottles and comes home acting.. stranger than usual. But I don't know about the drugs. Every Wednesday he leaves with a large stack of cash, then later comes home with a medium-sized bag of some white-powder substance.

And I'm pretty sure I've caught him snorting it when I was 13.

I'm not the strongest on religion, but that doesn't stop me from praying every night that Stefano dies a very slow and painful death - preferably me murdering him. Just kidding, though I'd definitely take up the offer of killing him, gladly.

Snapping me out of my thoughts, a gentle knock sounded from the front door.

That's definitely not Stefano, he'd break the entire door down, sober or not. And, we never get guests. Who is this?

Taking small steps towards the door, I eventually open it, silently popping my head out of the small distance I had created between the frame and door.

"Are you Azalea Taylor, ma'am?"

I slightly furrow my eyebrows confusion, "Yeah, who's asking?"

"A police officer," the person that I now know as 'police officer' states as if it were the most obvious thing to figure out.

Rolling my eyes, I can't help but wonder, 'why the hell are they here?' I mean if anything, it was probably Stefano and his stupid antics. But what if I accidentally did something, or if I got framed for murder?

Now I had stepped outside considering I was dealing with the police right now. I don't want to make a wrong move or something.

"Why are you here? If I did do anything wrong, please just let it slide. I always do stupid things-"

Please, I'm going to get myself arrested before anything if I keep talking.

"No, I'm sorry to be the one to inform you, but your father, Stefano, died in a car accident. It was confirmed at 6:20am," Police officer says, looking at me in pity.

My jaw reaches the floor and my eyes widen. I stare at him in shock before I feel something trailing down my reddened cheeks.

Wet tears run down my face.

I don't know what I should feel.
Maybe grateful that he's finally dead?

But, he is- was my father. The only parent I had alive. I don't care if he treated me bad, tossed me around like I was, or am, nothing, he was still my father and at the end of the day, nothing, really can change that. He was my dad for no one to take, my dad for me to have and my father figure for me to look up to.

And now all those prays have been answered, I'm starting to feel pure regret and guilt crawl up my spine.

I'm sorry, dad. Please come back and save me, like you used to do. Please.

Dad never talked about her anymore, my mother. I'd always used to try and question, but when I did,  did ask questions, it'd result in me getting my ass beaten black and blue. It was a.. sensitive topic. He'd always go overboard on the violence if it was anything mother-related.

"I'm sorry for your loss, Azalea," He says, lowly.

Loads of thoughts swarm my head at once. A million possibilities and moments of realization pop up constantly. The tears double and my knees almost give up right there.

"What's going to happen to me now? Will I be put in an orphanage?"  I ask, frowning at the thought of possibly getting another abusive or neglectful family.

"You'll be sent to the station where we will see if you match any recent reports of a missing child. Before that, we'll search for any relatives or distant families. If you pass those tests, then unfortunately you'll be put in the system." He briefly explains with me nodding in understanding.

The chances of me having any family outside is very, very low. I wonder how the orphanage will be like. I've heard it's bad, real bad. I can only hope this will be more positive than I expect it to be, and only hope I'll get over the death of my father soon enough to sweep myself onto my feet and keep going.

He would like this. Me going away. Forever. He would love this.

Wiping my tears of my now-puffy face, I get in the police car, thinking of all the possible outcomes and stuff this could result too.

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My first chapter!

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