Breakaway

Michael.

It is quite shocking to see your father die in front of you. I know that he was already dead, but life support was technically keeping him with me, and watching his heartbeat slow down until it was just a line on a computer screen was horrifying. I was standing at the back of the room. My mother was sitting on the hospital bed with him; holding him. There were many nurses and other doctors that stood in silence to mourn his death. Looking around the room, I could see many familiar faces under those masks and wearing those white cloaks. 

My father was an actor, though he was known for his charity work. His idea of kindness was to give away twenty percent of his earnings, which was quite a lot if you're an actor. Many of the nurses and doctors that stood in the hospital room had been personally benefited by my father's success and money. For the past several days, the news headlines have been all about how wonderful this man was, though I felt insane as the only person who saw him differently. In front of cameras and paparazzi, Michael Breakaway was a humble, loving man. At home, he was nothing more than a burden.

                                                                                         ***

"Tori! Tori! Can you give us any insight into Michael's personal life?"

                                                                                                            "Miss Breakaway! What was your dad like?"

           "How much inheritance are you receiving, Tori?"

I couldn't believe that the paparazzi showed up to my home. I had tried to keep my personal details secret from the world, but being an actress was extremely difficult. As I picked up the bag of groceries from my car, I turned to the sweaty humans behind the cameras and painfully rolled my eyes in disgust. "I will not be discussing my father's life and the money he left for me. Now, if you'll excuse me, I would like to enter my home."

And as I thought this moment was over, a deep voice called out from the group of paparazzi. "Is it true that Michael Breakaway was abusive?"

I clocked my head back to the shining lights. "Michael was my father, and I loved him." I knew that my answer wasn't what the cameras were looking for, but I didn't care. It was all they could know.

Once I finally entered my home, I began placing my groceries in the fridge and cupboard when I heard the television turn on. In the living room was my nuisance of a little brother. "Why aren't you in school?" I asked, walking over to Nathan with a small bottle of juice.

Nathan sighed, grabbing the bottle out of my hand and chugging it. "It would look bad if the son of Michael Breakaway was in school without a care."

I chuckled, stepping over the couch to sit with him. "Instead, the son of Michael Breakaway is at home without a care. You should've been at the hospital. Photos were taken, and the fact that you were absent is already trending."

"The man didn't deserve my love in his final moments. He is a cunt, Tori, and he always will be. I heard those paparazzi outside. You should've told them the truth."

"The truth?" I echoed, shaking my head. "The world isn't ready for the truth, and you know that our mother wouldn't speak to us again if we told everyone that her husband was a shitty excuse of a father."

"Tori, I'm literally fourteen years old, and I don't live with Rachel. The woman already doesn't speak to us. Did she say one word to you today at the hospital?"

I thought back to after Michael's life support was taken. "No," I said. "All she did was talk to the police. I still can't believe someone shot him." I wasn't lying. I really didn't understand how someone could shoot him. The police say that it was somebody who was close to the victim, but I wouldn't say I was that close. It was an honest mistake. I didn't mean to kill my father, but what is done is done, and I can't say I regret my actions.