Chapter 2
Justice
Should I be happy now? It was a horrible man, but he was still my father. Sad? Why should I be? He never did anything for me, except for dumping the half of my genes into my mothers belly. No, I didn't feel any emotion at all. It was just like I had foreseen this, and put it beside me.
'Where is he now?'
'He will be send to the Firenation, so we can give him a place to rest in peace.'
The combination of the words "peace" and "my father" sounded ironical to me. Tears started to run down my mothers cheeks. I took her hand, because I didn't know what to say. Again I asked myself why I wasn't sad, or at least shocked. I just couldn't. My mother had been the one to raise me, the one that cooked, cleaned and looked after me and my siblings. My father was just good for the money, and that was probably the only reason why someone wanted to marry him. He was always angry. Or proud of himself, which was even worse. No, I absolutely felt nothing. The only thing I cared about now, was my poor mother. That made me kind of sick. How could I just had lost my father and don't feel any loss? How could I live with myself?!
My mother had collapsed into her own feelings of guilt and misery. That night, she asked me again to sit down. When I looked at her, I was startled. Her eyes were red and swollen from crying, and her face looked old and fragile, frowning with everything that could frown. But when she saw I stared at her, she straightened her shoulders and sighed.
'Look, I know the loss of your father is a big shock to all of us, but we have another problem…'
She played with a wisp of her hair and tried to put her story into words.
'Now that your father is… gone, we will run out of money soon.'
The word "gone" cost her a lot of strain. After a break of a few seconds, she continued.
'I can't do any hard work, because of my back pains. And since your bother and sister are still school age…'
I knew what was coming. I had to seek a job, work my butt off and supplant my father. I didn't want to, I was not going to be like him, never.
'I must ask you to earn the money now. It's our only chance of not losing this house and live in poverty.'
I wanted to say that it wasn't fair. It wasn't my fault he died, though I wished for it so many times lying in my bed, after he beat me up when he was home. It wasn't my fault my mother had back pains, and it was definitely not my fault that I was the oldest child. But though I wanted to say that so badly, I didn't. My father had destroyed lives, he had almost quashed the whole North pole. That was where our money came from. My father's destructive actions in the war. Now thát was unfair!
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