Troubled My Ass.

sPrologue

My mother sat on one of our designer black stools that surrounded the marble island in the kitchen. He face held anger and frustration as she tugged at the roots of her sun kissed blonde hair. She tapped her perfectly polished nails against the marble. She looked pissed. I couldn't blame her.

My father still has yet to come home from work, it 11:15. His work nights keep getting later, and later. Its not like he has a long, tedious job, It was a simple desk job, he was a tax accountant or whatever the bloody hell they were called. We all missed him, me and Ben missed the perfect family we used to have. But lately the tension was building, and something about tonight just screamed trouble. Something in my gut felt an incoming storm.

We waited.

and waited.

And waited.

Finally my Dad showed up, I should feel relief. But no. I felt like I was swimming in a sea of dread.

Hell. My Mother was going to raise hell when she sees him. His hair was a mess, sticking in different directions, his tie hung loose around his neck, which was covered in hot pick smudges, and his zipper was undone.

I'm not sure I wanted to stay and see this or if I should run and blast my music so I can pretend everything is okay again.

My eyes watered, I just miss my old family. The one where Saturday nights was game night, and Ben would get super competitive, and mom would playfully trash talk, dad and me would gang up on Ben just to make him angry. And then afterwards we go down to the local café and pig out on our favorite desserts, Mine a dark chocolate raspberry mouse. But my mothers next words put my worries in concrete.

'John, I want a divorce.'

Fuck my life.

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