Please stick around, keep reading, and leave a review! It would mean a lot to me! Enjoy, Flameheart88
"I have told you again and again Angelina. We don't speak of your father." And that was that. The one rule Angelina Hart was not allowed to break. The one rule that bothered her the most.
"But Mom!" she whined.
"No, Angelina!" snapped her mother.
"Alina," she muttered. Alina knew she had it pretty good. Seriously, her mother owned the most famous theme park in the world and was extraordinarily rich. If she wanted, she could walk around Firework Castle all day, eating melt-in-your-mouth bright blue cotton candy or hot buttered popcorn, riding the Electron Spin or the Twister Blast. But that wasn't what she wanted. Not at all.
"Why do you always refuse to tell me? You don't even have a picture of him anywhere!" Alina protested.
"I have to go,"
"But can't you just tell me why he left?" It was a pretty reasonable request after twelve years of being kept in the dark.
"Important meeting with the bank,"
"Where did he go?" Alina inquired heatedly.
"Financial issues,"
"Mom!" she yelled.
The front door closed with a bang. Alina could hear footsteps echo down the pavement.
"MOM!" Alina flopped down on the expensive black leather sofa, her eyes darting pointlessly past Friendly Frank! Posters and red and yellow prizes that she had won in various 'impossible' games. Finally she couldn't stand it anymore and stole into her mother's old-fashioned room.
Beep! Beep! Beep! Her cellphone was ringing somewhere downstairs. Rolling her eyes, Alina scampered downstairs and caught the vibrating device as it buzzed itself off the polished wood table. Hesitantly, she held it up to her ear and caught her breath.
"Hello?"
"Honey?"
"What is it mom?" she asked fervently.
"There's a babysitter coming by to watch you," her mother explained hastily.
"Bye," Alina jabbed the end call button and slammed the phone back on the counter. "Babysitter!" she muttered to herself. "She thinks I can't take care of myself!"
The phone rang again but Alina ignored it. She heard it pick up and a loud beep to signal to leave a message.
"She'll be here at three-thirty, sweets,"
"Oh, crap!" She glanced at the digital clock, its neon red numbers shouting three-twenty-five.
Alina dashed upstairs as quickly as her legs could carry her. Quickly relocating her mother's private bedroom, she ducked inside and scanned the area. The whole place was humongous. On one side there were four doors. One leading to the giant marble bathroom, another displaying the shoe closet, the third opening up to a clothes room, and the last a personal changing room. Straight across from her was a giant window with couches set against it, where you could look out at the theme park two miles away. On the right there was a large gap leading to a sunlit area where the bed, dressers, computers and televisions were located. Amid all that was an array of furniture and fancy objects. But worst of all were the amount of drawers. How could she search them all?
Three thirty-seven. Three minutes. One-hundred and eighty seconds. Crap, crap, crap! Alina pulled open drawers at random, but they revealed nothing except some chocolate wrappers and contract forms. Three thirty-eight. She grabbed the entire contents of a dresser drawer and dumped them on the carpet. Posters for the amusement park, more professional papers, a red tanktop, twelve blue rubber ducks, a framed picture of a lightning bolt, an old phone that didn't work, and a battered Friendly Frank toy.
Alina glanced at the clock. Three thirty. Dang! She snatched up all the items on the floor that could give away her presence there and stuffed them angrily back in their drawers. She twisted her curly white-blonde hair into a bun and changed into a sequined lavender top and pale brown jean shorts.
"Hello darling," a voice cooed behind her. Ugh! She turned around. A stark, tall lady with a strict bun and slender rectangular glasses that rested on the tip of her nose stood behind her. She wore slim, strange looking clothing that would have made even her old-fashioned mother laugh.
"Babysitter," Alina addressed her new enemy with cold regard.
"Darling dear, are you wondering about your father?" the woman asked sympathetically.
"Mmm,"
"He is a-well,-independent being," the babysitter said.
"And why do you care?" Alina said.
"Oh, no reason. Your mother-"
"My mother," Alina repeated.
"Anyway, you need to know something. Something important." the lady added.
"And, what would that be?"
"Angelina, your father…" she paused in confusion. "How to put this…" she tried again.
"Your father is a god."
