I knew ignoring Liam was cruel, but I couldn't help it.

Screaming at him in front of Jasper like that was uncalled for, especially since all he wanted to do was comfort me, even though I have been nothing but a bitch to him. I hated myself for what I am, I hated myself for being horrible to my boyfriend.

All I wanted to do was run into his arms and apologise over and over again, but something stopped me from doing so. An invisible force was stopping me from answering his texts and calls, it was telling me to ignore him on the streets when I knew he didn't deserve it, it told me to ask Jasper to answer the door whenever he would come by to check on me.

It's been 10 days since our fight and I knew he's had enough, he didn't need to be my emotional punching bag.

Now that I stop and think about it, every time something or someone hurts me, I always take it out on Liam, when he has done nothing to deserve such treatment. All he has ever done all my life is be a caring and more than supportive friend who would do anything to take the pain away, and I hate myself for using him in such a way that he would never do me.

"How is school Scarlet?" I got snapped back to reality when I hear Darlene asks me that question.

I look up from my stare down at my plate and blink.

Right. I'm in my fathers house. Having dinner with my.....family.

"It's fine." I answer quickly, avoiding her prodding gaze as I stare back down at my plate.

She nods with a kind smile then looks back at her eldest son, Theodore. "And what about you, honey? This the first time in months that the whole family is together, you busy with work and your daughters. How is Layla and Kayla?"

He smiles at his mother, "They're good. Layla just learned how to sing and dance to Black Swan and Kayla is picking up Beethoven fast."

She chuckles, "You have two child prodigy's in your hands. When are they going to come and visit their grandmother? I'm not 53 forever, you know."

"Soon. It's just Michaela wants to have this month with them. I'll tell her once they're done visiting her parents in London."

She nods in understanding and scowls when Taylor and Tyler start making a ruckus a few chairs away. They were throwing some peas into each others glasses using forks and tallying the scores using mashed potato and their fingers.

"Boys, that's enough. Behave yourselves before your father gets here." They giggle in response but did as they were told.

To my left, Sebastian nudged my foot under the table and I looked at him confused, he leans in and whispers in my ear.

"He's gonna ask you again tonight. I'm begging you, don't snap."

I furrow my eyebrows at him but nodded obediently.

The buzzing of conversation around us halted suddenly and I instantly knew he had arrived.

"Why is everyone so quiet?" He questions with a chuckle. "Come and give your old man a hug."

Darlene was instantly by his side, showering him with kisses and then it was Darlene's sons, Taylor, Tyler, Timothy and then Theodore. All of them  greeted father as if he was their own, with hugs and kisses, 'I missed you's' and so on.

How long has it been for them? 4 months? How long has it been for me? More than a year. If anyone had the right to miss him, it was me. But then again, he might not feel the same.

It took a lot of will power for me to not go on an instant rampage, I was already shaking with rage. Then, Sebastian greeted him, he did so like any other son would and so did Sam.

I was the last person he laid his eyes on and he was frozen to the spot. Understandable, he hasn't seen me for more than a year despite being a few miles away. I knew how to hide from him when I needed to and after our last argument session on Thanksgiving. No, argument is too generous, it was more like an all out massacre.

It wasn't long until verbal turned physical, not even Darlene or any of the servants could stop us.

But that night I had stormed out of the house, swearing to never return, pissed beyond reason, but instead of letting me go, despite him being equally angry, he had realised.

This was how Avery died.

It was how it all started. An argument turned bloodbath, which resulted in her death. And he chased after me, not willing to repeat my mistakes.

And he apologised over and over again. He was so genuinely frightened of loosing another daughter to a petty argument that he had swallowed his pride, showed me the shell of a man he once was.

And here we are.

More than a year later, the same father and daughter that lost two most vital people in their lives, a wife and mother and a daughter and sister, are standing right across from each other and they can barely look each other in the eyes.

I expected him to shut me out again, to scream bloody murder, or at the very least ignore me. But I had forgotten, my father was a kind and compassionate man. He was reasonable and more than humane. I had forgotten he wasn't a monster.

Instead he took me in a tight embrace, shoulders shaking as tears flowed down his face to my shoulder. I was in such a big shock I didn't even register his apologies that he was whispering in my ear so only I could hear.

"Dad.." I say as tears leak from my face, guilt engulfing me for ignoring him all this time.

I was in pain. Emotionally burdened from the people that I lost. But I had never consider that my father lost me too.

"Aww isn't this beautiful?" Darlene says with a sigh, ruining the moment with her comment. Of course only I saw it that way, father only chuckled and pulled her into the hug too. I hid my displeasure with a cheery smile that I knew all to well wasn't doing a smidge of convincing to Sebastian but Sam was all for it. If it made Sam happy that I'm fake happy, what does it say about me?

"Ew!"

"This is–"

"Utterly–"

"Immensely–!"

"GROSS!" Taylor and Tyler say simultaneously.

I resisted the urge to roll my eyes. Not because of their comment, I wholeheartedly agreed. But it was more so towards the fact that they were not twins. Tyler was younger than Taylor by one year, he was the youngest Andrews child after all. But people often do mistake them for twins, due to the fact that they always dress the same and look so much alike that it's annoying.

"Right! Let's have some of that dinner shall we? I am famished!" Father exclaims.

For the rest of the night my family was in an exuberant mood, laughing and chattering, and I too was looking that way. But deep down I really hated everything about it. Like me ignoring Liam, my deep hatred towards Darlene was really uncalled for. She has done nothing to me like she intended to hurt me in any way. My hatred towards her sons were also unjustified.

It just felt like she took away my family. But I know in reality I was the one who took my own happiness away. Sometimes I wonder if I will ever be happy again.

Those thoughts still run through my mind some three hours later. It was late, the buzzing of the house earlier had quieted down to something similar to a hum. I was sitting down on the floor in what used to be Avery's favourite room of the house; the library.

It hasn't been in use in years. Dust covered almost every inch of the room; the books, the raggedy old carpet that still had marker stains on it caused by Sam in his early years. The scratched up old table at the corner where they used to find their father, hunched over his work and where Avery and I used to hide from Sebastian, their father voluntarily playing along when Sebastian barged into the room in search of his "Satan spawned siblings".

There was only one place in the whole room that wasn't covered in dust. The piano. I looked at it curiously when I first stepped into the room. The surface of the comically large white piano was in perfect shape because when they were younger, they daren't touch it. It was their mothers of course. I recall it being something close to a challenge for their mother to teach them how to play.

But Sebastian instead took on a hobby of the athletic kind. He became a natural base baller and was the captain of his team in high school with enough school credit to go to college on a scholarship. But he chose the military path instead, and had planned to climb the ranks until he hit general.

Avery on the other hand was more of a bookworm, hence the attraction towards the library. They had often joked she would never fall in love if she kept projecting them to meaningless men written on paper. No matter how many times their mother had tried (and believe me she tried alright) to force her into piano, she refused to do it. Heck, the girl even read about the history of pianos instead of learning to play it like their mother had asked her.

Sam was never much for starting things against his will. If he wanted to do something, he would do it, he would learn it all by himself, then get bored and learn how to do something else. That was the way he worked and mom learned that the hard way.

I get up from the floor and sit myself down on the bench of the piano. My eyes pass over the keys, fingers brushing over them so slightly they don't make a single sound. I close my eyes as my fingers hit the first note to Chopin. They continue to mindlessly play the piece I practiced for years, my mind flooded with memories of when I first sat down with my mother to learn it, bouncing off of that stem of a forgotten chapter and spreading into a plague of other parts of my life that I kept buried in the back of my mind.

The piano was the one thing my mother and I loved together. Our lessons were the one time I felt like I was worth something to her and the one time we actually bonded. Don't get me wrong, I love her. But through out my whole life, I had been the most distant out of all the Andrew's children.

Sebastian was the first child, the golden boy with a golden arm and a golden heart. Everyone admired him for his righteousness and need to justice, how he did the right thing no matter what.

Avery was the second child, the first girl of the Andrew's. Of course she received attention too since she was practically an Albert Einstein reincarnated. She would have been named valedictorian. She was going to be named valedictorian.

Sam was the last child. As of the last children position, he was spoiled. Of course they all were spoiled but he was more spoiled than them in terms of the love spectrum. Since they had Sam when they were a bit older, they had more practice and knew what not to do practically down to the books. They had more time for him and coddled him as much as they could every chance they got. Sebastian and Avery knew this, but they were already content with the love they got and reckoned they already had their share.

Of course they would feel that way. But I had nothing special to offer. It was inevitable that I would live in my siblings shadows, I knew people would only look at me as the sister to the star athlete and teacher's pet but never did I think my own parents would do it too. I was literally a nobody at home and at school and that hurts.

Knowing no matter what you do, you will never be good enough compared to everyone else. So I committed myself to piano. I worked day and night towards a goal of even slight approval from my mother, even slight recognition in my existence. For the most part, I did get her attention if not only for an hour a day where she would help me expand my piano playing. An hour a day, every day I would have her complete and devoted attention all to myself. But every day after the hour has passed, the minutes and seconds turning to practically nothing, those dreams of her attention slip away and I am pulled back into the harsh reality of a motherless life.

It was almost painful how much I missed those lessons with my mother. How desperately I wanted attention from a woman that barely spared me a second glance. It was masochistic. I hurt myself time and time again by building expectations of affection. I was pathetic.

And I poured all the pain, guilt, anger and sadness into my fingers, expressing the hurt I felt all those years ago through this big box of sound, the climax of the song played through harsher than actually needed but then I pulled back in my emotions and it was conveyed through the music. It was softer now, subtle, calm. My lips parted in a frozen sigh as I slowly opened my eyes with the song finished.

I look down onto the tiles, finding it being glossy and wet from the tears I hadn't noticed slipping from my eyes. With a shaky breath and hand, I quickly wipe my wet face on my sleeve before people came barging in and questioned my state. But I was too late. I froze when a creaky floorboard sounded behind me, as if snitching on the person it's weight belongs to. I snap my head behind me, my previously simmered anger boiling again when I locked eyes with Darlene.

She smiled at me. Not her usual toothy smile she always had around my father, the one she had displayed to everyone whenever they were around people she was trying to impress–no this smile was  tired and guilt ridden. As if she knew the sight of her very being made me feel revolted and she felt guilty that I couldn't control my emotions.

"That was beautiful, love." She says, taking a step closer towards me tentatively. She sighs when I don't respond and sits down next to me on the piano bench, making sure to keep a certain distance–not like she didn't feel comfortable with me, more like she didn't want to make me uncomfortable with her. My stomach sinks when she fills the silence surrounding us with, "I know you don't like me very much."

She starts, chewing on her bottom lip, "And I don't expect you to like me this very second, but I hope some time in the future you will grow to tolerate me. No rush or anything. I won't force you to like me if you're not comfortable with that." An unsaid 'I'm not trying to replace your mother' went past her lips.

A part of me, the really messed up sick part, wanted to scoff at her, shove her off the bench and tell her to stay away from me.

My irrational side was furious at her for even thinking of me accepting her. But my affection starved, child neglected, monster that had been sleeping in my heart for the most part of my life had awoken the very moment she called me 'love'.

I made a choice on which side to act on which was proven harder than necessary when you fight with your impulses and your rationality.

"I don't want you to be like my mother." I state calmly, to my own surprise. I continue, "If I'm being honest with you, she was a nightmare." I look up to meet her eyes, her gaze is filled with worry to what I was going to say next. I give her a reassuring gentle smile, "I never hated her, don't get me wrong. But my god I always felt like I was never good enough. I knew she loved Avery more than me, I never thought she loved her more than her entire family combined, you know? That's just messed up." A humourless laugh escapes my lips before I can stop it.

A look of confusion crosses her face. I stop smiling. "Do you know how they died?" I asks, my voice cracking just slightly.

She shakes her head slowly, "Your father never told me. And I didn't want to pry."

I decided, after a full minute of pondering, that I would relay the story to her.

"We had a fight. A huge fight. Me and Avery that is." I take a shaky breath as my fingers glided over the keys, playing notes at random. "It had been building up to that fight for weeks but that night really was the final straw for us." I let out a mirthless laugh, "Funny thing is I have no idea what the fight was even about. But the next thing I remember we were screaming our heads off and Avery stormed out."

I close my eyes as the tears that was brimming threatened to fall down my cheeks, "If she were still alive today, I'm pretty sure we would be on great terms as if our fights never happened because thats how it always ends up, thats how we always worked. I'd make her mad and even if one of us is in the wrong, we'd be too stubborn to apologise first, but then inevitably we would silently apologise and forgive each other and the next day we would be back to normal, it used to drive mom crazy because she just couldn't understand us. That was when things used to be so good.

"Things were bad even before she died. Dad was working late, Sam was acting out at school, I was failing my classes and mom was at the centre of it, trying to fix everything at once. After she died, none of us talked to each other for weeks. Of course mom was out of it because her favourite child had just died, she was the worst one out of all of us. After the funeral, we all went back to our usual routine as if nothing happened, we acted so normal as if Avery never existed in the first place. I think thats what drew mom insane the most, because it was atrocious we would't even talk about it. Two months later, mom killed herself the same spot Avery died."

Darlene makes an audible gasp beside me. She had been so quiet this entire time I almost forgot I was relaying the story to her. I offer her a sad smile, "You wanna know what's more messed up? In her suicide note, she only ever mentioned Avery. She went on and on about how she was sure my sister would do great things in her life and talked about how the light of her life she raised went out. She never mentioned Sebastian or me or dad or heck even Sam. It was all Avery, Avery, Avery...." I was getting frustrated now, I knew that, but the word vomit could't stop. I had been suppressing my emotions about these events for more than 5 years now and I never told anyone how I felt about any of it for fear of what I would say and how I would feel. All I felt was pain.

It hurts so much.

I was sobbing now, I probably looked pathetic clutching onto Darlene's shoulders and bawling my eyes out but I could barely bring myself to care. She strokes my hair soothingly as I cried, shushing me and whispering that she was here for me no matter what. It felt nice to be cared for. It felt nice to be loved. 

I knew my father loved me, he loves all of his children equally, I've seen the proof first hand. But my mother was always one for picking favourites. I thought I could live off of one parents love for the rest of my life, kids without parents could live without both, right? But this was different. My mother wasn't dead when she raised me, there was nothing restraining her from giving me even the slightest bit of affection, yet she chose the easier way out. 

"I never wanted you as part of my life because I feared too much that you would be like my mother," I admitted to her, my voice raspy from crying too much, "You already had four kids of your own, why would you care for the ones that aren't?"

She smiles at me, a genuine kind smile, "Honey, I will love you even though you aren't my biological daughter. I will love you even if you hate me. I will love you even if  you want nothing to do with me. Because thats what a parent is, Scarlet. We will love our children, biological or not, and we will love them no matter what. Even if they make terrible decisions in their lives, even if they embarrass themselves, because a parents love is stronger than any other form of love out there. Didn't Harry Potter teach you anything?"

I manage a smile and pull her into an tight embrace, "Thank you."

She returns my smile with one of her own.

Though I would never admit it out loud, in times like these, embracing my step mother on the piano bench, the same piano bench I had spent with my mother all those years ago, a woman who actually cares for me; I'm glad my own  mother is dead, but the price I had to pay for it was my sister's life. I'm sure, if mom was alive today, she would give her upmost, devote attention to Avery who would've probably been accepted to Harvard, or Brown or some other prestigious school alike. She would cater to whatever Avery needed, no questions asked. But talking to Darlene I knew one thing for sure about the woman that was once my mom;

She was never a good mother. That, I will forever be certain about.