The Curve of the Card

The Curve of the Card- Prologue

The evening was going splendidly. The whole place is filled with people, important people. The opera house has never felt so alive, though I couldnt hear any of the singing over the loud conversations. I walk around, wide-eyed, I was so nervous. Fathers successes had come easily though, with great gain comes massive sacrifice. I dont know why people even bother introducing themselves, Ive talked to hundreds of people all desperate to be accepted into our inner circle. They all just turn into blurs of black suits and grey hair. I would do anything for 5 minutes to sit and be undisturbed. I spot my father, wearing Mother like an old handbag. I put my hand together and push through the ocean of people crowded around listening to my fathers amazing story of his meeting in Korea. Its surprising how quickly old men move when they know money is involved. I think by my facial expression my mother knew I was fed up. I remembered that earlier she gave me a lecture about making an effort because this is very important for us, but if I shook one more old sweaty hand I think I would scream. I cross my arms and raise my brow. She isnt pleased. She takes me by the arm, she smelt like lavender, breaking the wall of cologne and aftershave.

We make our way outside, the bitterly cold sea breeze causing goose bumps to cover my body. Mother had a full-length, wine purple, fitted cocktail dress on and long white gloves so it didnt seem to bother her.

Whats wrong, baby doll? We already discussed, just hang on until your fathers speech and then I can call for William to pick you up. She gave me a soft smile and pulled me close for a hug. She stroked back my hair. I whisper.

Why doesnt Father love us anymore? I look up at her, pulling away from our embrace. Her eyes become glassy and her lip shakes. She doesnt say anything just looks into my eyes. I see her struggling to piece together what to say.

Honey, baby. You know how hard your father has worked and he is the first ever President to be a part of every government house in Australia. Tonight is his chance to talk with people from all around the world. Half the UN is here. I know sometimes he doesnt have time to play with you, But he does so much for us. Listen. If you are-

Suddenly, she grabs me by the shoulders and throws me on the ground. I hear two gunshots. I get off the ground and run inside, as fast as I can. I feel my heart pounding in my head, my breathing so loud it was thunder in my ears. What happened? Everything was foggy. I burst through the doors, there is my father on the stage. The speeches have already started. I push through the crowd, I couldnt tell if I was crying, screaming or just silent. I was numb it was like I was just watching what was happening, not living it. Climbing onto the stage my father gives me a confused look. All entries and exits were suddenly blocked by Fifty or so men. All in black hoodies and faces covered with black bandanas. It looked like they had some sort of automatic guns, and they werent afraid to use them. My father grabs me and we sit with our backs against the podium.

Where is your mother? he whispers. I make eye contact.

Outside. Dont go! I grab his arm as he goes to stand. He doesnt argue and sits back down. We just sit and try to be as still as possible but we were both shaking. Listening to the yells for help and mercy. Without warning, the podium is thrown away and we are left helpless on the stage. Ten men circle around us. Another jumps onto the stage. He had a white hood and a white bandana with a single red stripe across it covering his face. The silence was harsh, making the sound of his boots on the stage was ear piercing.

Well, isnt it the man of the evening. Give us what we want and we will leave. This eleventh man says.

What do you want then? my father stands, confronting the man face to face.

I want your bank details, your power, and your secrets. They all chuckle. My father nods and gestures for me to stand. He whispers in my ear. He wants me to run. I look at him. Was he crazy? Without a second thought, I run. I run as fast as I can outside. I see the men patrolling all around the outside of the opera house. Then there, right there. I see my mother. Face down lying in a crimson lake. I dont know what to do. I stand there, just staring. I dont know how long I stood there. I seem to sway as the bitter sea breeze rolls in, but the cold didnt seem to bother me anymore. I feel someone take my hand, dragging my limp body away.

Cmon Millicent. His voice was sharp.

Father, please. Father Stop! I try freeing my wrist from his firm grasp. He does not respond, does not look back. Does not even flinch at seeing his wife dead on the concrete.

NO! I free myself. He kept walking. Did not come back for me. Just got out his phone and kept walking.