QUALITY PARENTING

'...Oh fucking great.'


'What's the matter?'

'Look ahead.'


'...Oh no...'

'He can fuck off, let's just go past him.'


'Hey, are you planning on getting out of the way?'


'Go and stock the fridge again, Indigo. It's nearly empty and I'd like to eat tonight.'


'You don't fucking deserve to though.'


'Don't make me take my anger out on the little ones. Would you really want that on your conscience, Little Miss Goodie-Two-Shoes?'


'Cunt.'

'Layabout.'


'You want some fucking food? One of these days I'm going to spike it with a gallon of hot sauce.'


'...Or poison.'


'Let's take a walk.'




'I had a call from your school today. One of the counsellors, to be precise.'


'...Oh.'


'Some absolute drivel that you've been telling that busybody cripple!'


'One of his colleagues had the kind heart to tell me what sort of bile you've spread to try and sully my immaculate name.'


'How could you be so childish and spiteful? This is how you choose to repay my years of hard work, effort and sacrifice? It's not easy being a father, you know. Especially to such awkwardly behaved, difficult children. I blame Indigo, you were so much easier to deal with before she showed you rebellion.'


'But Dad, I didn't lie to him -'


'I wasn't born yesterday, you ingrate! My informant says that you were telling the old man how I beat you! I have never been so insulted in all my life, I haven't ever raised my fists to you kids.'


'I'm going to have to throw Indigo out for this. This is your fault, you know. I hope you're happy.'

'I - I don't understand...!'


'I don't know how such an ugly, brain dead child like you turned out to be so manipulative, but you have her wrapped around your little finger. I know that when you tell her this bullshit, she will try to attack me. This is a preemptive strike to protect myself. Congratulations on making the stupid bitch homeless. Tell her she has until tomorrow afternoon at the latest to clear her things out. Anything that remains, I burn. Oh, and that car of hers is in my name. If she takes it, I'm reporting it stolen.'

* * *

'...Well, he wasn't bluffing.'

'Did he have to make it a spectator sport...?'

'It's Abraxas. Of course he fucking did, the nasty bastard. Come on if you're coming then; the sooner we get away from that toxic cunt, the better.'


'You didn't have to come with me, you know.'

'I did... It's my fault.'

'How?'


'B-Because I talked to Mr Dowsdell. Someone - someone called Dad and told him what I'd been saying...'

'Some fucking counsellor he is, telling tales to Abraxas.'

'He wouldn't...!'


'He must have told someone he shouldn't have, at the very least. Either that or he bugged your fucking sessions with him, heh.'


'...I could believe that too, actually.'

'....'


'Come on, up you get. Let's keep going to find somewhere we can put our heads down for the night.'


'Indigo, I... I'm so sorry...'


'Christ. Come here, you did nothing wrong. I don't blame you.'