Elliott Wescott has never been one to play by the rules, she's bad, bold and unapologetically herself.
But she's also on the verge of being kicked out of university and her parents have had enough.
In attempt to get her under control she's shipped...
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"ELLIOTT EDITH MAE WESCOTT!"
Well, what a fucking pleasant way to be greeted in your own home... Cue internal eye roll.
"Mother," I reply through gritted teeth. "What do I owe the pleasure?" Or should I say displeasure? I'd say the silence was bothering me, that it was unbearable, but that would be a lie- the only unbearable noise is the incessant screeching of my mother's voice.
"What am I doing here?" She squawks. "You have to be kidding me, young lady." "I'm not a 'young lady', Mother." I retort, sarcasm dripping from my words.
"Well, if you act like a child, you get treated like a child," She snaps. Well, darn. That was harsh. Man, even my thoughts are sarcastic.
"Do you know why I'm here?" She questions, snapping me from my thoughts. Yes. "No," I lie, eh, oh well.
"Don't lie to me, young lady."
Oh for fucks sake, not this 'young lady' bullshit again.
"I don't know what to tell ya, ma," purposely using 'ya' and 'ma' because I know it will shit her to tears. And I was right, her face is contorted, red and it looks like the twitching vein down the middle of her forehead may pop. "Oh, so you don't know that the Dean called about your terrible grades and your deplorable attitude?" Hmm, how should I reply? Oh I know, silence; that will bother her.
"Don't you give me the silent treatment," She hisses. "Use my previous sentence and apply it here," I retort.
I can't be anything other than snarky to this woman. My relationship has with my parents has never been anything other than strained, even from the moment I was born. My father, Lawrence Wescott, is from old money; a long line of affluent and influential businessmen. Having the last name 'Wescott' is a blessing, they say. A blessing I'm not so sure I want.
My mother, Vivian Wescott, came from... More humble means. An average house, in an average neighbourhood with average income. She was for lack of a better word, average. There's always been a bit of controversy around how she and my father ended up together, I think that's why she's the way she is: tenacious as a dog on heat. I get the feeling she thinks she needs to 'earn' her place in the Wescott family.
Shortly after their marriage, my mother fell pregnant with their firstborn, me. They were over the moon when they found out it was to be a boy - in a family like the Wescott's a boy is an ideal firstborn, they are immediately first in line for their father's place on the board of directors. Imagine their satisfaction when I tumbled out of my mother's womb with the wrong genitals, they were so pleased and too busy celebrating that they forgot to pick a new name for their DAUGHTER, hence why my name is Elliott, the name for their expected son. Thoughtful, aye?
