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Life as a teenager, so far? Confusing. Lydia didn't understand what she was feeling from one moment to the next and she found herself missing the relatively simple days of her childhood. Relatively, as nothing was necessarily simple when your father was Peter Kemp. But at least back then, she had known what she felt and why.
"Your father was there, wasn't he?" Brianna had said, sparking renewed interest from the group of teenage girls who were sprawled all over her sofas. Gradually, they all seemed to sit up straighter. To lean forward. Brianna was talking about Lydia's mysteriously dead mother. This they all wanted to know about. "I mean...one could almost think he had done it himself."
Brianna's tone had been priggish and Lydia had squared her jaw menacingly. "My father wouldn't do that!"
"Maybe not." Brianna had said dismissively. "But you think he at least would have been able to stop her from killing herself. It's almost like he let her do it, isn't it?"
Lydia sniffed and she wiped away the tears, leaning her forehead against the window as she did so. Her chest ached from crying, but she didn't understand why she was crying anymore. Her mother had killed herself over a year ago, and by the time she had finally accomplished it, she had hardly been the doting mother Lydia remembered from before she was nine when Katherine's recreational drug use had gone from a hobby to an all-consuming addiction. Lydia's mother had been dead long before she had slit her wrists. And Lydia wasn't really mad at Peter for being there. She knew he had gotten there too late. And it wasn't his fault in the least that Katherine had succeeded in her macabre quest to end her life. Lydia knew Peter hated himself for getting there late anyway. She didn't need to. Yet, every time her father was around her, Lydia felt herself absolutely filled with anger and she snapped at him when given even the smallest opportunity.
Maybe, Lydia reasoned with another sniff, it didn't have anything to do with Katherine at all. It just felt like it had to do with her because the conversation with Brianna was what had really brought things to the surface. With her hands flattened against the glass of her window, Lydia reasoned that she was mad at Peter for another reason entirely. And it wasn't anything to do with Katherine's death at all.
It was simply because Peter was going to die now too.
Lydia took a deep, shuddery breath and then she turned from the window and she buried her face in her knees. At just thirteen years of age, Lydia had been through more than most seventy year olds could claim. She was intelligent and resourceful. But she was still a teenager. And she still loved her daddy more than anyone in the world. Adding in all the confusing things a teenager feels, to the knowledge that you were likely to live forever...and now the one person you counted on most for things wasn't going to be by your side through it all anymore...that didn't exactly lead to hugs and smiles. Lydia was glad her uncle Thomas was alive again. She loved seeing him every day. He made her feel happy inside. But every time she saw her father, it was like a sharp reminder that he would die. And, considering the things Peter was known to do, it might not be that far off.
Lydia had always known Peter would be there. After the shooting at London College, she had known he would appear out of nowhere and hug her. And even though he had been in Spain at the time of the shooting, Lydia was not disappointed. He had chartered a plane in order to get back for her. And she had felt his arms around her and the world was just that little bit less terrible for it. Now one day, he wouldn't show up. There would be no reassuring hug. No calm words to make her feel loved. One day, Lydia would be alone. And, of course, it was all his fault. He was the reason she was immortal. He was the reason he no longer was the same. It was all Peter's fault and as such, she wasn't going to tell him. She was going to punish him.
Maybe, if she pushed him far away, it wouldn't hurt as much when he finally wasn't there to fall back again. Maybe, if she fell away from him, her heart would be spared.
"Your father was there, wasn't he?" Brianna had said, sparking renewed interest from the group of teenage girls who were sprawled all over her sofas. Gradually, they all seemed to sit up straighter. To lean forward. Brianna was talking about Lydia's mysteriously dead mother. This they all wanted to know about. "I mean...one could almost think he had done it himself."
Brianna's tone had been priggish and Lydia had squared her jaw menacingly. "My father wouldn't do that!"
"Maybe not." Brianna had said dismissively. "But you think he at least would have been able to stop her from killing herself. It's almost like he let her do it, isn't it?"
Lydia sniffed and she wiped away the tears, leaning her forehead against the window as she did so. Her chest ached from crying, but she didn't understand why she was crying anymore. Her mother had killed herself over a year ago, and by the time she had finally accomplished it, she had hardly been the doting mother Lydia remembered from before she was nine when Katherine's recreational drug use had gone from a hobby to an all-consuming addiction. Lydia's mother had been dead long before she had slit her wrists. And Lydia wasn't really mad at Peter for being there. She knew he had gotten there too late. And it wasn't his fault in the least that Katherine had succeeded in her macabre quest to end her life. Lydia knew Peter hated himself for getting there late anyway. She didn't need to. Yet, every time her father was around her, Lydia felt herself absolutely filled with anger and she snapped at him when given even the smallest opportunity.
Maybe, Lydia reasoned with another sniff, it didn't have anything to do with Katherine at all. It just felt like it had to do with her because the conversation with Brianna was what had really brought things to the surface. With her hands flattened against the glass of her window, Lydia reasoned that she was mad at Peter for another reason entirely. And it wasn't anything to do with Katherine's death at all.
It was simply because Peter was going to die now too.
Lydia took a deep, shuddery breath and then she turned from the window and she buried her face in her knees. At just thirteen years of age, Lydia had been through more than most seventy year olds could claim. She was intelligent and resourceful. But she was still a teenager. And she still loved her daddy more than anyone in the world. Adding in all the confusing things a teenager feels, to the knowledge that you were likely to live forever...and now the one person you counted on most for things wasn't going to be by your side through it all anymore...that didn't exactly lead to hugs and smiles. Lydia was glad her uncle Thomas was alive again. She loved seeing him every day. He made her feel happy inside. But every time she saw her father, it was like a sharp reminder that he would die. And, considering the things Peter was known to do, it might not be that far off.
Lydia had always known Peter would be there. After the shooting at London College, she had known he would appear out of nowhere and hug her. And even though he had been in Spain at the time of the shooting, Lydia was not disappointed. He had chartered a plane in order to get back for her. And she had felt his arms around her and the world was just that little bit less terrible for it. Now one day, he wouldn't show up. There would be no reassuring hug. No calm words to make her feel loved. One day, Lydia would be alone. And, of course, it was all his fault. He was the reason she was immortal. He was the reason he no longer was the same. It was all Peter's fault and as such, she wasn't going to tell him. She was going to punish him.
Maybe, if she pushed him far away, it wouldn't hurt as much when he finally wasn't there to fall back again. Maybe, if she fell away from him, her heart would be spared.
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