I was out of options. I had no choice but to stay with my father and sister Isabella. The thought of moving back in made my stomach turn. My father's and I's relationship was less than ideal.

I had just emailed my letter of resignation to Anderson Corporations. I would not be caught dead in that place.

I let out a bitter laugh, I was now single, homeless and unemployed all in the matter of a day.

Pulling up the circle driveway of my family home, I noticed all the plants in the flower bed had died. My father was inept to even keep that alive. Tears settled in my eyes. I remembered how much my mom loved gardening. She forced me and Isabella to help her plant the new additions every spring. I couldn't believe it had almost been a year since she passed.

I would give anything to be in her arms right now. No matter how old you got, a parent could always ease your worried mind with a simple reassurance. Now that reassurance was gone.

My hands gripped the steering wheel. I didn't ask for much. I just wanted my pain to stop. Why couldn't I be happy for once? Why did my life have to fall apart all the time? I didn't understand why I could never catch a break. 

I inhaled a deep breath and took my hands off the steering wheel. I reeled in my emotions, breathing in and out. The last thing I wanted was my father to see me this way. I didn't want him to ask questions. I just wanted to be alone.

I entered the passcode on the door and quietly stepped foot inside. The house was surprisingly clean and smelled of lavender. Isabella must have cleaned before school.

My sister was a daring teenager. She struggled to follow any rules. We were complete opposites. I followed the rules to a T. I never wanted to disappoint my mother, her approval was crucial to me.

Now, that she was gone, I felt like I had no one to appease. Which felt painfully isolating but somehow freeing. I could live my life on my terms, the way I wanted.

It seemed to have the opposite effect on Isabella. She took my mom's death hard. Not coming out of her room for weeks, refusing to leave her bed at any cost. You could see the bones in her back protruding and her eyes were bloodshot every time I tried to convince her to eat.

It didn't help that she had also stopped taking her depression and anxiety medication. It made things much worse. I was at the brink of taking her to the hospital when she finally decided to eat. I didn't know what was responsible for her change of heart. She started to care more about her grades and future.

I was brought back from my thoughts as I heard a glass crashed in the kitchen. It had to be my father. He was probably drunk and incoherent. Nothing new.

I walked into the kitchen and saw him leaning over the sink. He held a gauze over his hand. He shook his head.

"Look who decided to show up?  Where's your fancy boyfriend at? Oh yeah, that's right, I forgot our family does not meet Mr. Perfect standards."

"Can we please not do this now? Thomas is no longer my boyfriend. You'll never have to see him again." All he did was stare, I wondered if he had fallen asleep with his eyes open.

I cleared my throat. "I will be needing a place to stay until I get back on my feet again. Is it okay to stay in my old room?"

My father glared at me with his puzzled hazel eyes, then threw what was left of the broken tequila bottle toward the wall.

Okay, so he definitely wasn't asleep.

"What did he do to you! I will kill him! Son of the bitch I knew he was an asshole when I laid eyes on him. Men like him are no good. Nothing but trouble especially with a family like his."

I wasn't surprised by his reaction. I knew deep down my father cared for me. He never liked Thomas. He thought he was a pretentious asshole who showed off his money every chance he got. I never paid too much attention to it, any man in my father's eyes would never be good enough for me.

My father hissed, wrapping his bloody hand with the gauze. "Of course, you can stay here what do you think? I'm not a monster. I am your Papà whether you like it or not. I am not the villain in your story. The villain was sleeping right next to you. Everything I have done was for you and your sister. I worked my ass off to give you girls a decent life."

I walked away instead of engaging with him any longer. I couldn't stand his "father of the year" act. I wished he would drop it altogether.

Nothing could remedy our broken relationship. He contradicted himself. He was a loving father when sober when drunk he screamed obscenities at me. I was always the target of abuse because I was the one who confronted him about his drinking. He inflicted nothing but emotional pain towards me. But of course, the next day after his binge he would never remember doing so. 

He is right about one thing, he did work his ass off to provide for us financially. Which deserved an award because he managed to do it while being piss drunk. He thought providing financial security was the only requirement for being a great father. When in reality, a father is supposed to be there both emotionally and financially, providing support in any way needed.

Instead, he stayed away from home as much as possible. His excuse was that he was away on business trips but we all knew better. He despised being home, it reminded him too much of his loveless marriage.

My parents were forced to wed by their religious parents because my mother became pregnant out of wedlock. I sometimes wondered if that was the reason why my father treated me the way he did. Maybe he resented me because I was the cause of his demise. I couldn't imagine being forced to marry someone I didn't love.

The only reason I believed they stayed together was because of Isabella and I. Or so I assumed why else would they stay in an unhappy marriage?

Their marriage was less than healthy it was starved. Sleeping in separate bedrooms but in public keeping up the image of a perfect marriage. When my mother got sick he had no choice but to stay home.

He still hasn't apologized for the pain he caused. That's why our situation will always be hopeless. He will never admit to his faults and I had given up on having him be a "father".

Dragging my feet down the narrow hallway that led into my bedroom, I couldn't help but feel destroyed.

I flopped my lifeless body onto my bed, my head hit the pillow as I stared at the ceiling. The glow stars I put on as child were still there illuminating the pitch-black room. Everything was exactly how I left it, two and a half years ago. The same scent of jasmine. My record player still in the corner with my records below.

I brushed the tears off my cheeks and buried myself under the comforter. Forcing my eyes shut, the memories of my past haunted me, good and bad.