Skye By Ashley Back
Prologue
The atmosphere at dinner that evening seemed awkward as we were eating. Mommy and daddy kept giving each other odd glances, as if . . . they hated each other, which was highly impossible. Mommy and Daddy practically couldn't be anywhere without each other. It put a pang of fear in my chest, which sat there until the end of dinner, to even think about a separation of any kind, even divorce. As I was clearing the dinner table, daddy commanded me to go to my room.
"Skye, you can head to your room now, I'll take care of the dishes," he ordered softly, standing from the table and throwing his napkin onto his plate angrily, glaring at Mommy. I looked at him strangely.
"Yes, Daddy," I said softly, and slithered up to my room. I shut the door behind me, and pressed my ear up against it, trying to hear what was going on downstairs. They were going to have an argument, which was seldom in the house of Lawrence.
"Victoria, could you please explain to me why you have been acting so strangely to me lately?" Daddy asked, cleaning and polishing the dishes, failing at the attempt. He dropped one not even five minutes into the argument.
"Things just aren't working out between us!" Mommy cried, whining in her pathetic little manner. I sighed. If Mommy didn't get her way, there was hell to pay.
"How is it not working out between us?" Daddy inquired, his voice sounding tired and angry.
"They . . . just aren't!" Mommy screamed quickly, stomping her foot, making a loud thump. I heard Daddy's distinguished heavy sigh. "I want a divorce," Mommy said softly, almost too faint for me to hear. There was silence. My heart dropped into my chest. I couldn't believe what I was hearing.
"And you're not even considering Skye about your selfish decision!" Daddy bellowed, pounding his fist against the marble counter.
"I am Rick! Skye is 16 years old! She's a strong girl, she can handle it," Mommy protested, a little laugh following it. It had sent a could shiver up my spine.
"How do you think she will feel?" Daddy asked sincerely. Silence again. I cleared my throat, feeling it become dry.
"I don't know," Mommy said, her voice sounding tired and defeated. I closed my eyes, which were burning in their sockets. Being selfish again.
"I think that we should include her in this conversation," Daddy said, thumping up the stairs, and towards the direction of my bedroom. the steps growing louder.
"NO!" Mommy screamed desperately, and scurried after him. "It'll kill her," she said softly. I opened my eyes again.
"Now your considering her. But it won't make any difference, she can he what we are saying," Daddy muttered, and thrust open my bedroom door. I fell on my bed, and picked up a magazine, pretending not to hear what I just had. I looked up. Mommy was grabbing Daddy's arm, holding it tightly, tears in her eyes. She let go of him quickly, as if she were ashamed to touch him, and smiled.
"Hi honey," she greeted, running over to kiss my cheek, as if nothing had happened. I put on a weak smile, and folded my hands in my lap, my body trembling from unwanted anticipation.
"We've come to talk to you about something," Daddy said softly, pulling out my desk chair and sitting down. Mommy sat next to me, grabbing my hand and stroking it, choking back tears. She only wants pity, I thought.
"Honey, me and your father are divorcing," Mommy blurted, biting her lip, looking as though as if she were to burst into tears. I stared straight ahead. Mommy gave Daddy a knowing glance. He shot darts at her. She sniffled back a sob.
"We're sorry to suddenly spring this upon you, but . . . things haven't been working out between us," Daddy sighed, lowering his head. I nodded, feeling numb.
"So . . . what's going to happen?" I asked dryly, staring at a spot on the carpet I had held my gaze on for the longest time.
"We haven't had much time to talk about it," Mommy piped up quickly, her tone feeling light and breezy. I sighed.
"We're sorry to spring the upon you," Daddy repeated, and stood. I nodded, and still stared ahead. Mommy stood, kissed my forehead, cupped my face with her hands, and smiled. She hurried out of the room. I looked at Daddy. He came over and gave me a hug, then left the room. After they had both left, I lay back on my bed, and stared up at the ceiling. I slapped my forehead with a loud smack, and ran my hand down my face. I sighed, turned out the light, and crawled under the covers, and fell asleep.
Prologue
The atmosphere at dinner that evening seemed awkward as we were eating. Mommy and daddy kept giving each other odd glances, as if . . . they hated each other, which was highly impossible. Mommy and Daddy practically couldn't be anywhere without each other. It put a pang of fear in my chest, which sat there until the end of dinner, to even think about a separation of any kind, even divorce. As I was clearing the dinner table, daddy commanded me to go to my room.
"Skye, you can head to your room now, I'll take care of the dishes," he ordered softly, standing from the table and throwing his napkin onto his plate angrily, glaring at Mommy. I looked at him strangely.
"Yes, Daddy," I said softly, and slithered up to my room. I shut the door behind me, and pressed my ear up against it, trying to hear what was going on downstairs. They were going to have an argument, which was seldom in the house of Lawrence.
"Victoria, could you please explain to me why you have been acting so strangely to me lately?" Daddy asked, cleaning and polishing the dishes, failing at the attempt. He dropped one not even five minutes into the argument.
"Things just aren't working out between us!" Mommy cried, whining in her pathetic little manner. I sighed. If Mommy didn't get her way, there was hell to pay.
"How is it not working out between us?" Daddy inquired, his voice sounding tired and angry.
"They . . . just aren't!" Mommy screamed quickly, stomping her foot, making a loud thump. I heard Daddy's distinguished heavy sigh. "I want a divorce," Mommy said softly, almost too faint for me to hear. There was silence. My heart dropped into my chest. I couldn't believe what I was hearing.
"And you're not even considering Skye about your selfish decision!" Daddy bellowed, pounding his fist against the marble counter.
"I am Rick! Skye is 16 years old! She's a strong girl, she can handle it," Mommy protested, a little laugh following it. It had sent a could shiver up my spine.
"How do you think she will feel?" Daddy asked sincerely. Silence again. I cleared my throat, feeling it become dry.
"I don't know," Mommy said, her voice sounding tired and defeated. I closed my eyes, which were burning in their sockets. Being selfish again.
"I think that we should include her in this conversation," Daddy said, thumping up the stairs, and towards the direction of my bedroom. the steps growing louder.
"NO!" Mommy screamed desperately, and scurried after him. "It'll kill her," she said softly. I opened my eyes again.
"Now your considering her. But it won't make any difference, she can he what we are saying," Daddy muttered, and thrust open my bedroom door. I fell on my bed, and picked up a magazine, pretending not to hear what I just had. I looked up. Mommy was grabbing Daddy's arm, holding it tightly, tears in her eyes. She let go of him quickly, as if she were ashamed to touch him, and smiled.
"Hi honey," she greeted, running over to kiss my cheek, as if nothing had happened. I put on a weak smile, and folded my hands in my lap, my body trembling from unwanted anticipation.
"We've come to talk to you about something," Daddy said softly, pulling out my desk chair and sitting down. Mommy sat next to me, grabbing my hand and stroking it, choking back tears. She only wants pity, I thought.
"Honey, me and your father are divorcing," Mommy blurted, biting her lip, looking as though as if she were to burst into tears. I stared straight ahead. Mommy gave Daddy a knowing glance. He shot darts at her. She sniffled back a sob.
"We're sorry to suddenly spring this upon you, but . . . things haven't been working out between us," Daddy sighed, lowering his head. I nodded, feeling numb.
"So . . . what's going to happen?" I asked dryly, staring at a spot on the carpet I had held my gaze on for the longest time.
"We haven't had much time to talk about it," Mommy piped up quickly, her tone feeling light and breezy. I sighed.
"We're sorry to spring the upon you," Daddy repeated, and stood. I nodded, and still stared ahead. Mommy stood, kissed my forehead, cupped my face with her hands, and smiled. She hurried out of the room. I looked at Daddy. He came over and gave me a hug, then left the room. After they had both left, I lay back on my bed, and stared up at the ceiling. I slapped my forehead with a loud smack, and ran my hand down my face. I sighed, turned out the light, and crawled under the covers, and fell asleep.
