Take Me

P r o l o g u e

I don't know how it worked for us, but apparently, this had been going on since God knows when.

I wrinkled my nose as I sat down on the dining table. I let out an inaudible curse as I forcefully grabbed the table napkin. I didn't bother to wait for the rest of them, I started digging in the moment I sat down.

My father stared at me but I ignored it and continued to eat. I'm more than famished. I remember throwing up after I went home drunk last night and I didn't even eat much for dinner that day. I need to eat as much before the mood breakers arrive.

Like a warning tone, I hear the annoying sound of clanking heels approaching the dining area. I guess this is my cue to eat what I can eat and not actually eat because I have to eat.

"Good morning my dear daughter!" She said enthusiastically. I stared at her petrified. For some unknown reason, I still couldn't fathom the idea of being this woman's daughter. It's like the worst thing that could happen to me. Everyday, I question how we were able to survive this kind of set up without the urge of slitting each other's throat with the use of the food knife.

"Morning," I answered dull as I try to focus back on eating because bacon is great, bacon is tasty, and breakfast with bacon is good.

Pretense was short lived, another clanking sound made its entrance. I couldn't help but roll my eyes. Two women with the same level of stupidity in the same table is just too much for me to handle. I shot daggers at my father as he sat comfortably on the master's chair. I hate how he acts this way all the time. Like it's okay to not be okay.

I stared at him firmly. I am privileged but I couldn't hide the fact that I hate him. I hate him a lot. His hair grew ample amount of white strands but it didn't conceal how well defined his face is even if wrinkles had made their existence more visible through the years.

I stared at the other two strangers in front of me with their redded lips and make-up enhanced faces. I don't understand why they still bother to compete for my father's attention, like he's a prize they have to win at the end of the day. My father obviously enjoyed this for years. Asshole.

At such an early age, I found out how powerful money is. My father had done a lot of awful things but had gotten away because of it. I get it. He's like that and there's no way he's changing. My mother, the legal wife, had went through a lot of pain and handships just because she loved a man that couldn't settle for one. I saw how pained she was every time she see another woman in his arms. Even on her death bed, she wished that my father would choose us, because she held on to this marriage for as long as she can even if cancer had chipped her life away. I was 12 when she died. It was the biggest heartbreak ever.

The second wife who sits in front of me then came into existence. My mother had cried a lot before because of her. She knew my father was married but she continued to stick like a parasite. Long enough, the queen had died and the concubine takes the throne. Hardwork does pay well.

I look at my left and watch as my half brother, Xander takes a spoon full of food and chew thoroughly. He is older than me. I kind of get the idea that she and my father were a thing even before my mother came into the picture but she didn't have what it takes to marry him. Apparently, my mother was more powerful, fiercer and richer. But a fool for love.

We tried to pretend we were one happy family for a couple of years. I like her consistency at not being bothered by my father's infelicitous acts, whilst my mom had died everyday because of it. For once, I respected her, 'cause she knew what she signed up for. However, karma's a bitch. It knocks when you're not around.

It was an unsolicited evening. We were having a peaceful dinner, when an uninvited visitor came. It was a woman who looks years younger than my father and his second wife. Everyone stared at her questioningly. Then the idea became clearer. She swallowed her pride and begged that my father take them because they have nowhere else to go. I watched the second wife and her freshly polished hand balled into a fist. For a horrible moment I was glad, that's how she made my mother feel all those times, it's about time she experience it. Still, a part of me felt sorry for her, she wasn't that bad to be honest, but her worse days are lurking at the corner.

My father recognized the woman, like she was just one of the many that he had bedded but I've never seen his eyes glitter the same way when he saw the person behind the woman's back. It was a boy, just about years older or younger than me, I couldn't tell. He had the same features as my father, just that he had the innocent look in his eyes. The second wife shivered furiously for she knows my father couldn't ignore this woman. Who would have thought? The mistress had produced the best offspring.

The awkward breakfast evaporated when Isaac claimed his seat in the dining table.

His hair was disheveled as rosy lined marks made its way to the side of his eyes indicating that he had just woken up from a deep slumber. His skin was flawlessly pale. He has a well defined jawline and his nose is small and pointed, like he was born out of a mannequin. Surpisingly, he's the best thing that had happened to this family.

If there's one thing I hate about Isaac, it's that he looked strikingly similar to my Dad. And I always feared that my favorite person, might end up just like him.