Total pages in book: 66
Estimated words: 60165 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 301(@200wpm)___ 241(@250wpm)___ 201(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 60165 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 301(@200wpm)___ 241(@250wpm)___ 201(@300wpm)
“He’s just bluffing! He’s had a bad day or something, and he’s just taking it out on you like he normally does,” Jess says immediately, trying to comfort me.
“I hope you’re right, but I have a feeling Roger means it this time. You know he doesn’t joke about money, and college is a lot of money. Hundreds of thousands of dollars, Jess, for a degree,” I sniff.
“Yeah, but your parents are some of the few who actually have that kind of money. Other people have to scrape and save, but your parents are rolling in it.”
Her comments just make me feel sad.
“Yeah, but those parents love their children, because obviously, mine couldn’t care less.” Jessica has no response to this. She knows as well as I do that I’m right about this sad fact. I’m a nuisance to Roger and Marisa, and they want me out of the way – just not enough to pay that kind of money.
“If there’s one thing Roger hates more than me, Jess, it’s bad investments. He obviously thinks there is absolutely nothing to gain from sending me to college. He’s not going to make more money. Interest isn’t going to compound. And the ROI is bad,” I conclude, tears spilling down my face.
“Listen,” says Jessica in her calmest, most soothing voice. “Why don’t you get a good night’s sleep and see how things look in the morning? Catch your dad at the breakfast table tomorrow morning. You’ve always said he’s in his best mood then. Try to reason with him. Tell him that attending college will mean that you’re out of his hair, and then you can use your degree to fend for yourself. He’ll never have to spend another penny on you after college, so that should persuade him right? But if you stay living with them, without a degree, he’ll always be providing for you.”
I think about this approach. It could actually work even if it makes me feel really sad all over again. “Yeah, I guess,” I say listlessly.
Jess is firm.
“Go to bed, and try it tomorrow morning. I’ll see you at school, and you can thank me then,” she says in a persuasive voice.
What is there do but agree?
“Yeah, will do, Jess. Thanks for everything,” I say in a small voice, trying to keep the hitch out. But my friend knows better.
“Always, sweetheart. Now buck up and get some sleep because you’ll need it for tomorrow morning,” she admonishes before hanging up. Sighing, I put the phone down and look around my room. I should be grateful because I live in incredible luxury. Two priceless paintings adorn my walls: a Salvador Dalí and a Jackson Pollock. Most teenagers have posters of their favorite rock bands, but instead, I have the work of famous artists.
It makes sense though because Roger is an international art collector who became a billionaire by being the best in the business. He’s careful but he also loves to show off, so he keeps his most prized possessions here at the penthouse. My dad sees this place as his to do with as he pleases, and no room is exempt from functioning as an extension of his galleries, including mine. The penthouse is secured like a fortress, and I’m feel like a princess in an ivory tower most days.
Sighing, I cross the vast space of my room to the huge bay window and look out over Central Park directly below. The lights of the city sparkle below me, and it’s a view I never tire of. This penthouse is an incredible place, and yet it’s not a home.
I scold myself. I’m lucky to be living here; other people in New York City would die to have their own room, much less my spacious quarters. I should be happy and grateful, and yet sometimes I wish I could just disappear. I’m afraid to make a sound; to act out; and to behave like a normal, functioning human being most days, all because Roger is so overbearing and controlling.
When I was younger, I thought that all rich parents were horrible to their children, and I longed to be poor. In the movies, the poor families always seemed to love each other and stick together through their hardships. It literally made me wish that my father would lose all of his money because maybe then, he would finally love us. He would appreciate Marisa and me for who we were.
But Roger never lost his fortune, and if anything, he only amassed more as the years passed. Even worse, I grew up and came to realize that I was wrong in my beliefs: being rich has nothing to do with how you treat your children. Rich parents are often loving and supportive of their kids because love doesn’t equal money.
As a result, I’ve been forced to accept the truth: that my father is cruel and greedy and has no love in his heart. My mother is beautiful, but she’s caught in her own trap. Even if Marisa does love me, she’ll never lift a finger to help me out of this hellhole. It’s heartbreaking, really.