The Ones I Hate The Most

chapter six

I can already tell that it is going to be a long day. I mean, for starters, I haven't had breakfast yet, and me without a coffee is bad, especially when I forgot to eat at all yesterday. Then, my dumb father has to take me back into his custody, refuse to greet me at his own freaking house, and then decide that I am immature enough to need a large set of rules.

Currently, I am seated on a soft chair, my arms are crossed over my chest and a pout adorns my plump lips. My father sits in front of me, only a large wooden table separating us. Behind him stands my two oldest brothers, Alec and Alexander. Their faces are blank, with no emotion evident anywhere. I'm sure this is their scare tactic.

Well, it's definitely working.

"Ami, I know that you don't like the fact that rules with be imposed, but within this household, rules are important. They're only for your safety. Even your brothers have them." My father says softly, his hands now resting on the table, in a business-like way.

"Fine, can we please get to the rules, this chair is uncomfortable," I lie. The chair is one of the most comfortable I've ever sat in.

"Bellissima, if you don't like the seat, then please get another one. There are several in this office." Alec suggests softly. Beautiful.

"No thank you. Can we please just get on with this. I'm sure you all have better places to be right now," I sass back, in need of caffeine to calm my frustration.

"Alright, dolce," my father says, pulling out a laminated stack of paper from one of his desk drawers. Sweet.

He goes through them all silently, as if looking for a specific copy. After a few seconds, my father's expression turns brighter. I'm presuming that he found the paper he was looking for. Carefully putting away the rest of the paper, my father looks toward me, sliding the paper to my end of the table.

"Read it please, cimice," my oldest brother politely demands, referring to the paper that is now in front of me. Baby bug.

At the top of the page, in bold writing is my name, written in a fancy font. I take a deep breath before scanning my eyes over the words, a bunch of rules I'll have to follow.

"Amity.

Rule one: Respect all of your brothers and father. If they ask you to do something, you do it, no questions asked. They are only doing what is best for you.

Rule two: Do not talk back to any of your family. Disobedience is not tolerated beneath this roof, especially if it is a personal remark.

Rule three: Your grades should remain the same as they are. However, if they do drop, then a tutor will be hired, and you might be homeschooled for a while.

Rule four: No boys. No males friends and certainly no boyfriends. And if you are a part of the LGTQ plus community, then no girlfriends. This is for your safety.

Rule five: Do not come on to the third floor and never travel into the basement. It is where we work and is extremely private.

Rule six: your phone must be on at all times. If your father or one of your brothers call, you are expected to pick up straight away. It could be an emergency.

Rule seven: Do not lie. This is for your sake. Your entire family can tell when someone is lying, and that can result in a punishment.

Rule eight: Do not leave the property without informing either your father or one of your brothers. They will come with you, or send someone else to go.

Rule nine: Verbal responses and eye contact are expected. It's just a sign of respect that we have in this house.

Punishment one: Grounding. Depending on the severity of the offense, the time will change.