change my fate

three

photo: zeus

Storms have a habit of turning into a hurricane before they hit. Lightning and thunder conjure up something extravagant until it strikes down. 

There's something about the curse of lightning that makes it even more enchanting. To be able to control it is even more enticing. I guess that's one perk of being the daughter of a greek god - the ability to have a sense of control. 

Though, there is nothing worse than waking up to a thunderstorm that has the windows rattling and the trees bending. The storm had rolled in during the dead of night, its presence announced by a sudden flash of lightning that illuminated my room with an eerie brilliance. Moments later, a deafening clap of thunder followed, shaking the very foundation of the cottage and jolting me from a restless sleep.

I lay there for a moment, listening to the howling wind as it whipped through the trees outside. The sound of rain pounding against the windowpane was relentless, a steady drumbeat that seemed to sync with the rapid thudding of my heart. Each gust of wind sent the old oak tree by my bedroom into a frenzy, its branches scraping against the house with a sound that could be mistaken for nails on a chalkboard.

All is somewhat calm until the next round of thunder sends a chill down my spine. 

"Dad?" I cry out. The rain continues to fall down harshly, so I call out his name again. "Dad!"

The front door swings open, and in the doorway stood a tall figure that smelled of rain and the most expensive cologne. 

His dark blue eyes flickers gold at the next sound of thunder and lightning. The sudden silence within the cottage contrasted with the rumbling thunder my father brought in. 

"Hello Ophelia." His voice carried with the storm. 

I fold my arms across my chest. "Hi Dad." I gestured to the air surrounding us. "Nice storm."

A particularly bright flash of lightning lit up the sky, followed almost instantly by a crack of thunder that seemed to shake the walls. The storm was fierce, but it was also a reminder of the bond we shared, a connection that even time and distance couldn't sever.

There was nobody the king of the gods loved more than his power...but I was his favorite daughter.

Zeus shrugged his shoulders. "I know right? Seemed to fit the mood given everything that had happened the other day."

"Oh, so you saw the Queen of Hearts arrest Cinderella and practically humiliate her daughter?" I close my eyes, reveling in the moment. I hardly saw my dad, but when I did, the little girl who once honored him turns against me. 

He runs a hand through his dark hair, the grays unnoticeable from the distance between us. "I did, my thunderbolt." He takes a step closer, the nickname he gave me as a child the hardest part to listen to. 

What kind of man he was when I was a little girl is nothing compared to the man he is now. The things my dearly departed mother saw in him, I'll never understand.

"You don't need to shut me out, you know." My father tries to convince. "I made this storm for you."

"Is that why it's so nasty outside?" I scold. "Why're you here anyway? I know it's not to play catch up." I start to tidy up the magazines and books on the table so I wouldn't have to gaze upon his face. 

Dad sighs. "Would that be so hard to believe?"

"Yes, it would." I argue. Although fighting with him is the last thing I want to do right now, Zeus is not the visiting in the middle of the night kind of man. 

"Ophelia, come on." He follows behind me to the kitchen. "You're acting as if I abandoned you."

I scoff at the sound of his tone. Of course he didn't abandon me, but he pulled away after my mother passed. Life became more about power and control than making sure his daughter would make it through academy.

"If you don't have a real reason for being here, then I think you should go." I tell him, hoping that he'll listen to me for once. 

Dad sighs again, disappointment threaded in his breath. "I'll come back another time."

Or don't come around at all. I want to say. It messes with my head.

As I watch my father walk out the front door, a part of me wants to take back what I said. To ask him to sit for tea and listen to his stories about life on Olympus. 

The distance put between us has been molded from when I was a child, and that shall be the fate we endure for as long as we live.