Burned and Crowned

"This is an outrage!" Dad's hand crashed down on the table, scattering cigar ash. "What did you say?"

"I said, Camford University's Computer Science Department," I repeated, my voice steady.

"A girl in computer science? Look around, has our family ever had a woman programmer?"

He stormed over, his tattooed hand striking the back of my head. "You were meant to marry well, not waste time on computers!"

The pain was nothing compared to what I endured in my previous life, but it was enough to resurrect old fears.

I flinched.

He saw it and scoffed, "Scared? Then straighten up!"

He thought I was still the same, scared of pain, scared of his words, scared of being cut off financially.

However, he did not realize that someone who's faced death is not scared of much.

"Listen to me," he jabbed a finger at my nose, his cigar smoke clouding my face, "cross the family, and you can forget about me as your godfather. You won't see a dime of your allowance. Let's see how you manage without us."

Mom tried to intervene. "John, calm down. Harriet's just a kid, she doesn't get it."

He shoved her aside so hard she stumbled into the table, wincing in pain but keeping quiet.

"She doesn't get it? She's eighteen! It's those no-good boys she's hanging out with that have corrupted her!"

He turned that piercing stare on me. "A girl out past eight, who knows what kind of trouble she's getting into? Thinking of leaving for Engleton, are you? Feeling independent?"

I heard it all before, in my previous life.

I remembered a night before high school, staying out late for a tutoring session. A boy from class wanted to borrow my notes, and we chatted for five minutes by the manor gate.

Somehow, my father's Underboss saw us and could not wait to report back.

Dad came out of nowhere, his slap sending me reeling. "Sneaking around with boys in the middle of the night, you're shaming our whole family!"

He dumped out my Chanel bag, ripped up my notes, grabbed my phone, and when he saw a 'thanks' text from a guy, he nearly crushed it.

Mom tried to stop him, "John, that's enough, we've got the Marshalls to meet at month's end."

"Heart's gone wild, meeting anyone is just dragging our name through the mud! Staying out late, who's to say you haven't been with someone else?"

That night, I was forced to stand at the manor's gate until 2 AM.

He lounged on the leather couch, watching the game, the remote clicking against the armrest. "This punishment's to remind you, a Harlow lady out past eight is no better than a streetwalker."

Feet dead from standing, I clenched my teeth, tears hitting the floor, keeping my sobs silent.

"It's not about rebellion," I met his gaze, "I want to live my own life."

He paused, not getting it.

"Dad, I'm a person too, not just a family pawn."

I got up, tearing up the marriage plans he made, "I'm heading to Camford University, and I'll handle the costs without family help."

He shook with anger, slamming a gun on the table. "Think you're smart? Let's see if you last three days without our name to back you!"

Mom came running, begging, "Harriet, please, he's your father! He wants you to study art, find a good husband, it's all for you."

"Mom," I faced her, "remember how Aunt died?"

She froze.

"Aunt killed herself, depressed from Uncle's abuse. You watched her suffer, always said you'd leave if it happened to you. What's changed? Aren't you just like her now?"

She tried to speak, but no words came.

The rag thudded against the floor as she let out a piercing scream, "You think I don't want to get out of here? I had you at seventeen, with no connections, no clout. Where would I go? Live on the streets? Your aunt hung herself, you expect me to end up like that?"

She charged at me, jabbing her nail into my forehead, her face a mess of tears and snot, "Think education's gonna change anything? In your dreams! You're gonna end up just like your father and me, no way out!

"Why do you get to soar? If you stay grounded, it hurts less!"

Her words cut deep.

Turns out, it was not my dad she hated, it was me, for even thinking I could escape the hell she was stuck in.