𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘳𝘪𝘨𝘩𝘵 𝘵𝘪𝘮𝘦 | 𝘰𝘯𝘨𝘰𝘪𝘯𝘨

018. amelie 🕊️

evangeline cromwell

"You reek of alcohol." Was the only thing my dad said since we arrived at the house.

We were sitting quietly at the kitchen table. "I had a beer and a glass of wine," I said as I kept my head down and played with my hands.

He scoffed. "Of course you had. Since you hang out with that boy- sorry I meant man, you are becoming more rebellious, Evangeline."

Why was everyone thinking that Henry was the reason for this? He isn't. I just got tired of being locked up in the house for so many years. Even if I hadn't met Henry, I would have still continued sneaking out and trying to live my life. "Henry doesn't have any fault in this," I said as I raised my head. "I was the one who proposed to spend Christmas with him and his friends. I was the one who chose to drink. Believe it or not Dad but Henry did not force those drinks down my throat."

"Are you protecting him now?" He raised his voice as he slapped his hand on the table.

"Yes!" I responded in the same tone as him. "Of course I do! I am tired of you and Andrew blaming him just because. He has done nothing but be nice to me since the first moment we met. It is not his fault what decisions I make. It is not his fault if those decisions somehow end up hurting me. It is mine and mine only so please, for the love of God, stop blaming him!"

I breathe heavily by the time I finish the sentence. It felt good to let some of my anger out. I have eight years of anger built up in me and sometimes it hurts me.

My dad wants to say something but the hand of my mother on his shoulder stops him. "Eva, sweetie, you know we are worried about you-"

I roll my eyes with a scoff. "Here comes the old story. You are doing all of this just to protect me right? You destroy my life and all of my chances of a somewhat decent future just for my safety right?"

I was so tired of this old story that keeps repeating itself.

"What did you just say to your mother?" Dad didn't care about the gentle hand that was placed on his shoulder. That meant he was so angry. "Take that back."

"No." I should have regretted saying that but I don't. Not anymore. I'm exhausted from feeling guilty for something I shouldn't. "It's true, isn't it?"

In a second Dad was up from his chair, with both of his hands on the small, round kitchen table. His chair fell down. "Take that back!"

I was trying so hard not to shake in fear or cry. I've never seen my dad like that. Like he was ready to do something to me. I knew he wouldn't actually hit me but the fear was there. And all I wanted to do was to open my phone and text Henry to get me

"Harvey!" My mother yelled his name and I saw how his eyes widened when he realised what he had done. He picked up his chair and sat on it.

I let out the breath that was pressing on my chest. "You're right, Evangeline." My mom's soft voice pierced the room. "We are selfish. We are scared to lose another daughter and maybe we haven't thought about your future as well as we should. But we do want what's best for you. Maybe looking you up in your room wasn't the most brilliant idea but trust us that this was the best choice then. We were grieving."