The journey home seemed to drag on for years, and Samantha wondered whether it was because she was anxious to hear what her father had to say.
He never really shouted at her like her mother did, but one look in his eyes and she would always see the disappointment swimming in the pools of his brown orbs. It hurt her more than the words her mother spoke. He looked at her like he regretted giving birth to her because all she had to show for it was a track record of mischief.
She sighed again, catching her mother's attention.
"You okay, sweetie?" Her mother knew the answer to that question. She wasn't. But it still felt necessary to ask.
"Yep. Just peachy. Don't mind me. I'm just preparing myself to show how much of an embarrassment I am to dad. Nothing new"
Her mother frowned at that. She knew Samantha hated being scolded by her father, if you could even call it that. He was silent through most of it. She couldn't imagine how her daughter felt.
Deep down, she knew that Samantha was a good kid. She just had a little trouble expressing herself and fitting in. She would never admit that she understood her daughter, though. That was a free pass for even more unhinged behaviour.
"It's gonna be okay, I'm sure there's nothing to worry about."
"Gee, thanks, mom. That helped a whoooole lot. " Samantha couldn't hide the sarcasm dripping from her voice at that statement.
"Well, excuse me for trying to make you feel better about a problem you caused for yourself. Have fun sulking at the injustice of life, then"
That was their relationship. The occasional banter... okay, maybe a little more than occasional, but it was their system. In her heart of hearts, Samantha loved it. She would never admit to it, though. Deep down, she was grateful for her mom trying to lighten the mood, even if her attempt didn't do much.
Samantha bit back a smile and stared back out of the window
"Remind me again. Why do we live so far away from school and so close to the woodland creatures of this town?"
Samantha really disliked the journey to and from school because it was so ridiculously long.
"Well, your father and I decided when we first saw the town that it would be nice to be in touch with nature and appreciate the simple things in life. It was also the cheapest house we could find, and you know your father and I are really stingy about finances. It was a literal gold mine!"
"Mhhhmmm," Samantha retorted. Unimpressed but unsurprised about the whole explanation. It was so 'her parents-coded' that she couldn't even argue with it.
At last, they finally arrived home, and Samantha wasted no time in bolting out of the car and dashing up the stairs to her room. She shut the door and sank down at the entryway for a few seconds before deciding to freshen up and change out of her 'prison garments'.
A term of endearment, she used to address whatever outfit she wore to school on that day.
She changed her clothes and settled on her bed, closing her eyes and focusing on the sounds she heard all around her.
There was the annoying chittering of that squirrel that occupied the tree that was conveniently rooted right beside her bedroom window, along with the sound of her stupid wall clock that was always a few minutes slow, no matter how much she adjusted it.
She laid there on the bed for a while until her stomach decided to break her peaceful reverie with a sound so loud and morbid in comparison to the quiet stillness of her bedroom.
Samantha sighed. She didn't want to get up. Her plan was to hide away in her room until she was sure her dad wouldn't remember anything about what it was that transpired that day. Her body, however, had very different plans.
"Sam! Dinner!" She heard her mother call from downstairs. She glanced at her phone and saw the time '6:15', right on time. Her mother had this weird superpower of making sure dinner was ready at exactly 6:15pm. and always claimed it wasn't on purpose. Samantha knew better, though. The woman was probably a witch! She just couldn't prove it yet.
Reluctantly, Samantha descended the stairs and settled down in front of her plate of spaghetti. 10 points for excellent food choice!
She hadn't made eye contact with her father the entire time until she heard him clear his throat.
"I heard your mother had to be called in from work today. Is there any reason?"
Samantha wondered how he had 'heard' about it because his office was a good few hours away from their school. The news couldn't have travelled that far that fast.
"Yeah..it's nothing serious. Mom handled it already."
"I hope it didn't have to do with you causing trouble?"
Something inside Samantha sank. It was the same everywhere and every time. No matter what happened, she would always be the bad one. She would always be the problem.
Her dad hadn't even heard the full news of what transpired, but he already summed it up to be her fault.
Fine then, she would give him what he was looking for.
"Actually, it was exactly for that reason," she replied as calmly as she could muster amidst her intense emotions. "I happen to have put someone in the hospital because I'm an out of control freak with anger issues. I'm sorry to disappoint you once again."
After speaking up, there was pin drop silence.
No one moved. Her mother stared at her wide-eyed and was cautiously glancing between her and her father, anxious for what he would say.
"Is that so?" her father mused. "It's the first time you've sent someone to the hospital. I imagine it had to be something serious this time."
The way her father said 'this time' so lackadaisically made Samantha even more irritated. He was obviously not surprised. He made it seem like nothing good could be expected from her.
She had enough. Everyone wanted her to be crazy? Then she'd show them crazy!
"Quite the contrary, dear daddy. I simply decided to wreak havoc because my youthful exuberance got the better of me. The poor victim just happened to be at the wring place at the wrong time to be on the receiving end of such shenanigans."
Her father narrowed his eyes at her. It seemed he was trying to make sense of her new change in persona. He was used to her defending herself and avoiding eye contact whenever he brought up her getting in trouble, but now, here she was, composed and staring him down. It was interesting as well as slightly unnerving.
"Your manner of speaking makes me think you're not remorseful about the whole situation, are you?"
At this, Samantha burst out laughing, startling her parents and even herself. She couldn't help it, though. The whole situation was just so hilarious, and she felt like she would combust otherwise.
Suddenly, she felt a burning rage. That's right! These people would never understand her. It was why she had more friends in the underworld than here. It was why she was more comfortable at cemeteries than in her own house. At least ghosts don't judge you and trample on your feelings.
"I can't believe this." Samantha finally spoke after laughing for almost a full minute.
"You're barely home, always at work, and only show your face when it has to do with scolding me. It's just freaking crazy. Do you enjoy making me feel like crap?"
"Mind your language when talking to your father, young lady!" Her mother, seemingly out of her previous trance like state, finally whispered to her with a sense of urgency.
"No! I'm sick of this. I'm sick of you! If you're looking for a prim and proper child that won't make you question your parenthood, then maybe you shouldn't have had me! I can't help that I'm this way, okay? I can't help that I don't have friends. I can't help that the first thing people want to do when they meet me is to either take advantage of me or make me out to be the bad guy! What did I do so wrong?"
It seemed the dam had finally burst. Samantha was holding back tears, chest heaving as she glared daggers at both her parents.
"Well, you surely have a lot to say today." Her father simply commented.
His calm collection to her emotional outburst completely floored Samantha. How could he still be so indifferent? She hated that he wasn't reacting, and she loathed that she was reacting too strongly to the whole situation.
"Now that you've got that off your chest, May we continue dinner in peace ? You have a lot to say for someone who causes nothing but trouble."
He continued to pick his spaghetti with an air of sophisticated reservation that Samantha wasn't sure where he got it from.
Dinner suddenly seemed poisonous. She was here, baring her soul and her mind to these people, and they couldn't even bother to take her seriously. She felt angry, disappointed, and betrayed all at once.
"I can't believe you guys!" She exclaimed while standing in her feet. She had to leave. Right now! She couldn't bear to be in the same place as these heartless statues.
She marched to the front door and threw it open, running out defiantly despite the frantic calls of her mother after her.
She ran, ran, and kept running until she felt her next step would send her spiralling into death.
Slowing down, she found herself at the edge of the river near her house. The water was clear and undisturbed.
She scoffed. She hadn't even run that far, and she was already gassed. She needed to do more exercise. She sat down near the river, finally registering that she was barefoot and still hungry.
"Why didn't I burst out in anger AFTER I was full?" She asked herself before pulling at her hair painfully. She felt so stupid, but she also felt so frustrated with everything.
The cool, clear water in the river seemed to be calling out to her. Almost like it was inviting her into its depth. She tried not to let negative thoughts affect her, but everything seemed to weigh down on her mind.
"Maybe it would be better if I disappeared. That would show them! They'll finally see how much they actually need me." She spoke quickly to herself while nearing the edge of the grassy patch she was on.
She was one step away from plunging into the body of water. It would all be over soon...
"I wouldn't do that if I were you."
Now, who was this, and what right did they have to interfere with her genius plans of grand demise?