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29-04-2023, 09:54 PM
A long time ago in a galaxy far, far away.…
I. Mr. and Mrs. Vici
While the Lord and Lady of our house were prone on disagreeing, I seldom heard their voice raise in pitch.
Both were reasonable intellectuals who just happened to debate a lot. Whether it was about us or potential business moves, they always had something to add on the subject matter. That, and much unlike the flat screen personal, they never seemed to get angry over the viewpoints of another.
Or at least, it's what I believed.
Then came a night, that tore the image I had of my parents apart.
They shouted at each other. No, they screamed.
The oddest part about it was that father was the loudest.
I never heard my father raise his voice before, but the tone he’d project that night brought several shivers down my spine. Then the racket came. Fragile objects broke, as I could only assume and hope were thrown at the wall. Possibly aiming to hit one of them, if not both.
My mind was filled with buzzing questions, my anxiety arising with each second that past. Not even the dawn’s silence could being me ease.
What were they talking about? It was too far away to hear, on the top floor where the study was. All of their words were ineligible from my bedroom.
What did their loud arguing mean? Is my family breaking apart? Will the Lady go one way, and the Lord another? Will I be split from my brother and sisters next?
That was not my main concern, as tragic as it was on its own. I just hoped they were both alright. I was a coward, one too scared to enter the study. Father sounded mad. As though he would kill someone in a single regretful moment. If mother was first, I didn’t want to be next.
Guilt sink in at the thought, but there was little I could do but hide under my covers until a servant would eventually come to wake me up for breakfast.
As I got downstairs, I saw them in person once again.
There was no sing of any hatred, nor grudges. They debated about a potential client, as silently as the days before yesterday night.
I. Mr. and Mrs. Vici
While the Lord and Lady of our house were prone on disagreeing, I seldom heard their voice raise in pitch.
Both were reasonable intellectuals who just happened to debate a lot. Whether it was about us or potential business moves, they always had something to add on the subject matter. That, and much unlike the flat screen personal, they never seemed to get angry over the viewpoints of another.
Or at least, it's what I believed.
Then came a night, that tore the image I had of my parents apart.
They shouted at each other. No, they screamed.
The oddest part about it was that father was the loudest.
I never heard my father raise his voice before, but the tone he’d project that night brought several shivers down my spine. Then the racket came. Fragile objects broke, as I could only assume and hope were thrown at the wall. Possibly aiming to hit one of them, if not both.
My mind was filled with buzzing questions, my anxiety arising with each second that past. Not even the dawn’s silence could being me ease.
What were they talking about? It was too far away to hear, on the top floor where the study was. All of their words were ineligible from my bedroom.
What did their loud arguing mean? Is my family breaking apart? Will the Lady go one way, and the Lord another? Will I be split from my brother and sisters next?
That was not my main concern, as tragic as it was on its own. I just hoped they were both alright. I was a coward, one too scared to enter the study. Father sounded mad. As though he would kill someone in a single regretful moment. If mother was first, I didn’t want to be next.
Guilt sink in at the thought, but there was little I could do but hide under my covers until a servant would eventually come to wake me up for breakfast.
As I got downstairs, I saw them in person once again.
There was no sing of any hatred, nor grudges. They debated about a potential client, as silently as the days before yesterday night.
Discord:
lord_saltaeon
