”Yessir!” Cynthia gets up and quickly shuffles her way to the door. You look back towards your dad who is still staring hot iron daggers at you. “Dad, I’m so so-” ”Amber. I don’t want or need to hear that.” He puts up his hand and pinches the bridge of his nose. His shoulders slouch and he sighs. ”This, whole thing was for you ya know?” He gestures his arm towards the whole restaurant. You look around confused. ”I didn’t want YOUR MOTHER, or Cynthia here tonight. I knew you were going through some stuff and I just wanted some Father-Daughter bonding. I was HOPING that you’d be willing to open up about what’s been bugging you for the past week, or cheer you up at the very least.” The absolute shame you felt made you shrink back into your seat. A hole began to form in your chest. Your dad chuckled. ”But CLEARLY, going the soft approach isn’t going to cut it. We’re already WAY past that point, obviously. So, Amber, tell me what’s wrong. And I don’t want any bullshit. That ‘artist’s eyes’ shit and you being tired by the painting are obvious lies. I want the truth, RIGHT NOW.” You dad emphasized his words by tapping the table with his finger. You opened your mouth to say something but all that could escape was a small squeak. You grab some of your water and drink it. Your throat had gotten incredibly dry for some reason. Clearing your throat you attempt again. “I-I...uhhhm…” You shift your legs around. You were in a cold sweat. Your eyes dart around looking for a good escape. No use. You were in a small corner of the building. No restrooms are fire exits to escape from. You look back at your dad. His expression hasn’t changed since Cynthia left. This was it then. Confrontation. You sighed and prepared yourself. ”I...I t-think I miss m-mom.” Your father sighed and rubbed his forehead. ”Yea. I thought so. Amber, why didn’t you tell me sooner?” “I-I didn’t want to trouble you. I knew she’s a sensitive topic for you.” ”And I told you that you could come to me about anything.” “I-I know I just, didn’t want to upset you, or Ste-Mom...about anything.” ”Yea? Well, look how well that turned out.” You winced at that. You didn’t mean to say that out loud. Though you can’t say it wasn’t how you felt. “A-am I in trouble?” Your father looks at you with remorse before sighing. ”No. You’re not in trouble. But, you ARE going to be apologizing to YOUR MOTHER and explain what happened, and then we will be sitting down and talking this out.” You look away from your dad and at the floor. “Yes sir…” ”But, not here though. Follow me, we’re paying the bill and then leaving.” “Okay dad…” The two of your get up and pay the bill and then return to the car. Stella was wrapped around Cynthia who was giving you a death glare. If dad weren’t there you’d probably would have gotten an ear full, but apparently she’s smart enough not to open her mouth in front of him. +++ You sat on the back porch looking up at the stars. The ride home was quiet. The odd sniffle would escape Stella’s beak every once in a while and it would always tear at your heart. When all of you got home your dad sent Cynthia to her room and sat you and Stella down to apologize. She understood, and accepted it, but stated she didn’t have the energy to continue the conversation tonight. The horrible look on her face killed you inside. With a final good night dad escorted Stella back to their room. And now here you are, exhausted but couldn’t sleep. The hope was that the fresh air and night sky would calm you down but it was hardly working. Your rubbed your hands into your face and groaned. “How did I fuck up this badly?” ”Is that seriously a question you’re asking yourself?” You look behind you to see Cynthia glaring at you in the dark. Are you, FUCKING KIDDING ME?! “Cynthia, what ever it is you have to say to me, I REALLY don’t need to hear right now.” ”No, I think you DO need to hear it.” You scoffed. “Are you joking? I already feel like shit, you don’t need to come out here and add on to it.” ”Oh! Oh no, I’m not JUST out here to make you feel bad. I’m here to tell you what you NEED to here!” You rolled your eyes. “Oh? Is that so? What? That I’m a bitch? That I’m just a ‘normal’ who has shit taste and will never amount to anything? Well I already agree on the first point and could give a damn on the second, so it’s pretty pointless for you to come out here and berate me like you always do.” Cynthia crossed her arms. ”Oh my God, you are SO pathetic. Do you have any idea what you did to mom?” “Yes! And I apologized and feel bad about it.” ”Oh so when I apologize it’s fake but when you apologize it’s genuine?” “The difference is that I ACTUALLY feel bad you fucking slob.” Cynthia lets out a guffaw. ”Oh! YOU feel bad? But you still needed daddy to force you to apologize.” “I DO feel bad! What the fuck is wrong with you?” ”Nothing! I just think it’s rich that not only did you have to KILL your own mother, you had to go and break the heart of the one who raised you too-” *SLAP* She fell back into the back door of the house holding her cheek. In shock she looked back up to you. You were panting heavily at this point, shaking in pure rage at the fucking AUDACITY this shit eating cunt said. “You. Shut. Your. Fucking. Mouth!” In absolute surprise and offense Cynthia just continued to stare at you, mouth wide open. It was taking every fiber in your being not to tap into your human DNA and go absolute APE shit on the herbivore in front of you. After a minute of just staring, Cynthia opens the door and retreats back in side. Once the door was shut you pick up the deck chair you were sitting in and throw out into the back lawn. FUCK THAT WHORE! No, calling her a whore implied any boy would be willing to set their standards low enough to fuck her. You wanted to do so much. You wanted to scream. You wanted to cry. You wanted to just, fly. Fly away. Fly away from it all. You didn’t want to talk to your dad tomorrow. You didn’t want to shame yourself and have to look Stella in the eye again. You didn’t want to keep living with that WASTE OF CUM YOU HAD TO SHARE A HOUSE WITH! But evolution cursed you and your family line. Your wings were useless. Your uncle could attest to that. You look down at your hands. Bloodied from your fingernails digging into their palms. Tears fill your eyes and you run your bloody fingers through your silver hair. You fall to your knees. >Those words kept echoing through your head. ” I just think it’s rich that not only did you have to KILL your own mother, you had to go and break the heart of the one who raised you too.” Your heart was beating so fast it felt like it would explode any minute. What if she was right? What if all of this was some divine punishment? God or the spirits or whatever Auntie Rosa or Stella would talk about? It was all your fault wasn’t it? You bury your face into your palms and you weep. [POST-NOTES] Sorry for the abscence for two weeks. Vacation. I'm back though. Expect regular updates from now on!