How bad can it be

So many opinions plague the world. So many ways things ‘should’ be done. Who really is to say which way is the right way? How are we to know that any path that has thus far been found is the correct one to follow? It honestly is outrageously hard to decide, especially when a person has spent such a long time convinced that their path is the only possible one. Granted, this is a path laid before them well before they were of age to make that choice for themselves. This path they walked with a head held high and a heart swollen with pride that they were lucky enough to be one on it. During those times things were simple. One might even go as far as to say it was just easy regardless of the labor that went into it. Things do change, however. Rugs can be snatched from under foot only to reveal the path beneath is not what it seemed to be at all. This is the situation that has landed Micky where she is today.

A short life of eighteen years has been lived lavishly. Anything she could ever want provided with a smile by a doting father. That father is now, unfortunately, six feet underground with an additional two feet of cement on top just to make sure he would never claw his way back out. It is an odd thing, but not that surprising when one considers all the new information Micky has recently been delivered. Even though it isn’t a shock, this development is still heartbreaking, nonetheless. Her mother told her most of it, the rest she heard on the news.

Now that her father was gone, many things and rules had been shifting in her life. She had been guarded like royalty for the majority of her life, not that Micky minded. This afforded her more sway over her loving father for things she wanted in exchange for compliance. The rules where never really an issue for her. The small group of friends had been present since she was young, so she never really wanted for outside socialization. Her personal chef provided any cuisine she may want, so no need to venture out of the grounds ever arose. She had access to any information she wanted, or so she always assumed. It was only after father’s funeral that her mother began to tell her the reasons behind these things. Her father, it would seem, was a murderous villain to the world.

This may seem a terrible revelation to some, but Micky always knew her father was different than those she saw on television shows. The only difficulty she was having here was trying to understand what this meant to the rest of the world. She always thought herself open minded, but this notion that her father could have ever been an evil, cruel man was just beyond her. Micky had only even been shown love and devotion from her father. How else could one explain the wonderful gifts and luxurious lifestyle she led? She had been given the finest education and knew how to disassemble and create a huge array of things. Micky could even fluently speak five languages! All these things, her mother explained, where meant to prepare her to one day take over the family business. According to her, Micky was meant to be introduced to all this a mere week after her eighteenth birthday. It was on that proclaimed day that her father had been slayed in front of her. Micky had witnessed the whole thing. No tears came, as that was not something she properly knew how to do. It was more a shock than anything else. The man that killed her father, Micky later learned, was a renowned hero to the rest of the world. Her father’s body laying in front of her did not do much more to her mind than ignite confusion. Her father, known only as Mr. Knight to the world according to the newsman, had always been invincible in her eyes. In that moment she was alone with a hero she never knew existed and the rug was pulled out from under her.

In a rather odd development, the hero had gone from shocked by her presence to relieved all at once. He then proceeded to let her go. This she still did not quite understand. The hero spoke no words to her. He only gave a small smile that appeared terribly sad and walked away. Micky stood there in silence for several moments before kneeling down beside her wonderful fathers still form. She brushed the hair from his forehead gently, as if he may be sleeping. He looked so peaceful.

It was not long after when one of her father’s friends appeared and whisked her away. Mr. Mar stood her up quickly, his face the same stoic mask as always. She was loaded into a car and driven away from the small alley in silence. Micky spared only one look back as she wondered what would happen now.

Her mother acted to prepare the girl for what was to come. There was the business to be dealt with; however, her mother did not seem to think she would need to worry about that for some time. Matter such as this were trivial to Micky. She wondered only at the truth. What had she missed of the world in all the years she spent within the grounds? What was the truth behind her father’s work? Who was that man that killed him and how could that make him a hero? So many questions swirled through her head at all hours of the day. She wanted to understand. There were the things she had been taught and how she was shaped to consider. Now that the restrictions, as her mother called them, had been lifted, it seemed that there were heaps of things that had been previously kept from her. Micky knew what she thought of her life and father. In a way foreign to her, she yearned to see what the rest of the world saw. So far, it had been nothing good where her family was concerned.