It had been a few weeks since my powers had awoken and I was practising a fire spell in my room, I had been practising it for hours, my hands and arms covered in burns and the heat inside my room was stifling. The window was open in hopes of dispersing the heat a little.

So far the spell had been stubborn, waiting until the last minute to throw something new and unexpected at me. The first time, it had been a large burst of flame that had enveloped my hands and arms. The heat was bearable, like I had touched a hot pan. It hurt but I could manage the pain. I had buckets of water ready in my room and had managed to get the start of a water spell under my belt the week before just in case I needed it, which was handy because my latest attempt at controlling the fire spell had resulted in my bedspread catching fire, which really sucked since it had been my favourite bedding set.

I gritted my teeth as I buried my frustration deep within myself, I closed my eyes and concentrated. I had figured out that this spell wanted a show of self control rather than power which most fire spells demanded. I muttered the words I had learnt off by heart and the spell grew within me. My hands filled with fire but there was no pain, I waved my arms around me, making the balls of fire that sat in my palm turn into trails of light. I open my eyes as I bring the trails twisting back into a ball, controlling the motions of the spell. I focused on increasing the temperature of the spell up, the air around the ball sizzled and it turned different shades from red into orange and into yellow. It reminded me of the spell Ragneth had done weeks prior. I scold myself for my slip in concentration and refocus on the ball of fire.

So far so good. This had been the furthest I had gotten with it and I could feel it starting to buckle under my hands, I made the ball smaller, bringing my arms in slowly. Focusing intensely on maintaining the correct temperature. I started to get excited and giddy at the thought that I might finally add this spell to my repertoire.

Suddenly, the ball grew bigger and started twisting into a fire tornado.

A fire tornado.

A Fire. Tornado.

What the fuck?!

I tried my hardest to get the spell back under my control but the flames kept spinning, flinging itself in panic around my room, scorching walls as it fought to escape me. Almost like it had one last ditch effort, the tornado flew straight out the open window. The whoosh of wind and the sound of flames disappeared as it fell out.

I raced to the window and leaned out, panic racking my body. I just managed to catch sight of the loose vortex just as it was entering another window in the house next door.

I swore loudly and repetitively as I sprinted out my room and down the stairs, taking them three at a time, nearly twisting my ankle on the way down. Rushing out of the front door towards the house next door, I spotted the fire raging in the small kitchen through the window and I bolted to their back door, and prayed it would open. I tried the handle and it swung open. To my surprise and horror, someone was already battling the flame in the kitchen. The fire ball had landed in a small pan and was slowly growing in size. The person had a tea towel in their hand, trying to waft the flame away, doing nothing other than making the spell angrier.

Like that was going to help with enchanted flames. Not like they knew, I suppose

I hurried over to the carnage and attempted to grab the pan. The fire grew but I ignored it, grabbing the pan and taking it over to the sink I had spotted on the way in. I grabbed the lid to the pan which had thankfully been sitting on the side and wrestled with the fire. The fire weakened as I shut off its oxygen supply.

My fingertip started to tingle and I hurried to cover my hands. They glowed whenever I managed to wrangle a spell under my command. It only lasted a few seconds but those few seconds would be enough for me to be outed as a mage. Not that an enchanted fire tornado wouldn’t give me away. I started to freak out. How the hell am I going to talk myself out of this? I was royally fucked.

“Oh thank you!” A voice called out, panicked but grateful “My family left me in charge of cooking this week but I’m absolutely awful! I must have used the wrong oil or something because my pan just went up in flames!”

I turned to the stranger and tried to keep myself calm and collected but I was bricking it underneath. “What?” I ask feigning confusion

“The fire!” They gestured at the pan I still had in my hands “I must have used the wrong oil in the recipe or something because it just burst into flames! Although, it’s not the first time I’ve had a fire related incident before. I once set fire to our toaster and that time I wasn’t even trying to make toast! Anyway-” they held a hand out for me to shake but it was still covered in an oven glove. “Thank you for helping me out there. It was a good thing you were around, otherwise I would have been a goner for sure!”

The stranger was dressed in jeans and a t-shirt, long sleeves rolled up to the elbows and a very stained apron.

I checked that my hands had stopped glowing then approached the boy, shaking his oven gloved hand. I hesitate to answer “Er.. not a problem?” Had the guy really not realised that the fire flew in from the window? Had I really gotten away with it due to this boy’s kitchen incompetence? I thank the Gods above and relax just a little. It might seem like I was in the clear now but it could come back and bite me in the arse later.

“What are you trying to make? Are you flambéing something?” I ask, as I release his hand and hand him back his pan.

“Soup” he replied simply before turning to a counter and burying his head in a recipe book that sat open.

I blink, acting up my confusion “How the hell did you set fire to the pan cooking soup?” I exclaim

He shrugged animatedly “I don’t know! I told you I’m rubbish at cooking”

He really had no idea that I had set that fire with magic. This was perfect. I played into him. Bouncing off his unfortunate kitchen abilities.

“Why didn’t you just microwave tinned soup?” I inquire, I try hiding the smile that appeared as I realised that I had gotten away with my recklessness. There was a moment of silence before he looked down at his feet, slapping his hand against his forehead.

“The microwave! Why didn’t I think of that?”

I let out a laugh, although grateful he had forgotten all about the microwave. Still, I felt bad having made him think he had failed once again.

“Do you need a hand making something? I’m a pretty good cook. I can teach you if you’d like?” I ask as casually as I could. Honestly I didn’t want to help him, I’d rather get back to practising magic but maybe it was best for me to take a break for a bit

He looked at me with wide eyes and a grin spread across his face. “You’d really do that for me?”

I nod, a little creeped out at his enthusiasm.

“That’s so nice of you! Thank you so much!” then suddenly wrapped his arms around me and squeezed me in a hug. I froze. I wasn’t a hugger. He didn’t seem to notice and let go before telling me excitedly

“My name is Lucan, by the way, what’s yours?”

I quickly recover myself from the hug “Er..Veylyn”

“What meal do you wanna make?” he started aggressively flicking through his cookbook while he struggled to stand still with his excitement flowing through him. “We could do pasta? Oh! Or maybe something with chicken? I know there's something in our fridge we can use! OH! Or how abo-”

I raise my hand to silence him, his incessant yapping and boundless energy reminded me of a puppy. A very annoying puppy that just won’t stop barking. He was so happy and bubbly. It made me sick.

“Slow down, why don’t we just stick with soup? Master the basics before we move on to something that can give people food poisoning”

He nodded so I asked him “What soup were you trying to make originally and for how many people?”

“Well there's me” he started counting off his family members on his fingers “My mum, my dad, my little sister Gweniveve-”

I interrupted him yet again “Listen man, I asked how many people, not for your family tree. A number will suffice just fine”

He looked at me sheepishly and mumbled a quiet “four”

“Very good. Now, what soup type?” I ask as I busy myself at the oven, turning the hob on.

Another quiet mumble “tomato”

“A classic choice. Now, wasn’t that so much easier than you telling me your whole life story?” I comment before whittling off a list of ingredients for him to grab me. Luckily a few of the things I had needed were left out from his last attempt at soup. I usher him over to me.

“Alright Lucan, first step you’re going to do is finely chop the tomatoes, onion and garlic cloves. These are going to be your base ingredients. You with me so far?”

His face was flush with determination “I’m with you”

“Off you go then, and please don’t chop any fingers off. I doubt your family are cannibals.” I say as I observe him.

I swear, I look away for one second to try and find something I could use for broth in the soup, and when I look back, the boy has completely eviscerated his first tomato.

“Woah! Slow down, you’re supposed to chop them into pieces not vanquish them from their bloodline” I cry out as I cringe inwardly at him

Lucan looked up at me from the chopping board, blinking at me in confusion “You said finely…”

I sigh and roll my eyes “yes but not that finely. Finely enough that I don't need a microscope to see the pieces you’ve chopped.” He blushed as he looked at the mess of tomato skin and seeds that littered the chopping board. I let out another sigh “Just.. a bit bigger this time, about a centimetre in length or something. Alright?”

He looked at me determinedly again, before nodding and getting back to work.

I mumble my mother’s favourite phrase under my breath “Aye, Orrilay” as I shake my head. I regret ever offering to help him. If I had known that I was going to be dealing with someone who was a fork in a world full of soup, I would never have offered to help. If there’s one thing I hate more in this world, It’s stupid people and people who feel the need to fill in silences.

“So..” Lucan’s voice broke the comfortable silence we were in and I rolled my eyes yet again “how old are you? I’m eighteen, I had my birthday a few days ago” Without even looking at his face I just knew he was smiling.

“Just keep cutting those vegetables” I say, avoiding the conversation. I hated small talk and I was hoping this would shut him up. It didn’t.

“Let me guess!” he made a few noises while he pondered “January? No wait- November!”

“No”

“June?” he insisted

“No”

“Damn, normally I’m good at this. Hmm… March?” he continued

“No” I sigh as I ready the oil, broth and other important ingredients for the soup. “Look, do you want me to just tell you?”

“No!” he snapped round to look at me and I almost reeled back, his eyes were bloodshot and tears were rolling down his cheeks “Don’t cry” I say awkwardly “You can keep guessing if you want”

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He looked at me confused before going “Oh! No, I’m chopping onions but I think I got onion in my eyes. They got all itchy”

“And you rubbed them, didn't you? That just exacerbates things for you, you spanner” I roll my eyes at the red eyed boy before guiding him over to the sink and turning on the tap. “Rinse your eyes and wash your hands. I will cut the rest of the food and all you need to do after that is chuck them in the pot.”

I busy myself with the chopping. The sound of water splashing in the background filled the silence. You could hear the quiet hissing of the flame on the hob. “22nd October 2000” I blurted out as I chopped.

The tap stopped running. “Hey, wasn’t that when that massive storm hit? I remember my teacher telling me all about it in history class. He said it came from the Gods because they were mad at us. He was also our religious studies teacher so it made sense at the time”

I just hum in agreement.

“Wouldn’t it be cool if you were also sent from the Gods?” he let out a laugh “Imagine, I have a gift from the Gods in my kitchen.”

I roll my eyes yet again. I swear, I was getting dizzy with the amount of times I had rolled my eyes in such a short space of time.

“Come dump these ingredients in the pot before I gift you a punch from the Gods” I grumble at him. He skipped over. - Literally skipped.

My personal favourite phrase from my mother’s natural dialect is Aly buctol. Which means “Utter bollocks”. It seems fitting for Lucan.

Lucan dunked all the chopped ingredients into the pot. The vegetables sizzled as they hit the bottom of the hot pan I motioned for him to bring me the stock I had made earlier. “Now pour the stock into the pot and stir as you pour it in”

“OK!” he replied in his chipper tone before pouring and stirring the soup at almost breakneck speeds. His arms a blur as soup sploshed around, splattering the wall behind the oven. I rushed to stop him.

“Fucking hell Lucan you’re stirring it not trying to take off in it! Slowly!” he slowed his movements. You could say what you wanted about the boy but he was certainly enthusiastic.

The aroma from the onion and garlic started to mix with the tomatoes and broth, filling the kitchen with a mouth watering smell. Lucan was practically drooling “Can I taste it yet?” he asked as he stirred, his eyes focused on the red liquid.

“No. for two reasons, number one. I can’t trust you not to burn yourself and number two. It’s not seasoned yet.” I told him before opening and closing a bunch of cupboards attempting to find some spices I could use to flavour the soup even more. I managed to find some dried basil and salt. That will do I suppose.

Just as I was reaching for the seasoning, I heard a yelp come from Lucan. I spin round to face him and spot him with a guilty look on his face and a small spoon in his hand.

“You’ve just burnt yourself trying to taste the soup haven’t you?” I look at him unimpressed, my hands on my hips.

“No..” he mumbled, his voice trembling slightly.

“Lucan.” I growled at him. He snapped under pressure instantly.

“OK I did it! I tried the soup! It just smelt so good I wanted to try it but it was hot!” he cried out. Whatever reserve he had crumbled instantly and he looked like a deer caught in headlights.

Good gracious, it was like dealing with a child. I put my head in my hand and sighed, just as I was about to instruct him to add the seasonings to the pot. The sound of the front door opening echoed through the house making the two of us jump.

“Lucan, We’re home!” A chorus of voices called out into the house.

“Crap!” Lucan exclaimed, his eyes wide as he looked at the clock that sat above the entrance to the kitchen “Is it that time already?”

I suddenly felt awkward. What do I do in this situation? Do I stay and finish the soup? Do I leave?

“Erm…Should I go or..?” I let the question hang as Lucan rushed to tidy up the kitchen.

“Why don’t you stay for dinner? I’m sure my parents won’t mind. Plus you did make the soup after all. It would be rude not to let you have some” Lucan replied as he unceremoniously moved things from one place to another in a panicked attempt to tidy up.

“Lucan, come help with the shopping please” A male voice called out.

“Coming dad!” Lucan shouted back before turning back to me “Are you OK to finish the soup and tidy up a little? I’ll come back and give you a hand when I’ve talked to my parents” I didn’t even get a chance to answer before he had zipped off out of the kitchen.

I glanced around the kitchen, the mess was astronomical considering it was just soup. I remembered I hadn’t added the seasonings to the soup so I got to work finishing the soup, tasting it and realising that for a tomato soup, and Lucan’s second attempt, it wasn’t half bad. I lowered the temperature of the hob to a gentle simmer and set about cleaning the kitchen.

The one thing I hate about cooking is the cleaning that comes afterwards. Lucan was still out helping his family, so I decided to speed up the process just a little. A smile came across my face as I flick my wrist and the dirty chopping board and knife flew into the sink. Another flick and the lid of the pan sat snugly on top of the pan, trapping all the flavour inside as it bubbled away. I was like a puppeteer. The spells and items moved around the kitchen with choreographed precision. I was lost in the elegance of it all.

I had just flicked my wrist and was about to orchestrate the seasonings back into their cupboard when I heard a loud gasp from behind me. I jumped, the basil jar and salt shaker smashed against the floor. Herbs and glass everywhere. I spun around quickly to see a small girl no more than eight or nine standing in the doorway, her mouth open wide like a fish in need of air.

Shit. Rumbled.

I froze. my heart raced at the situation and I thought desperately for a way to get myself out of this situation.

“Er..” I started before she interrupted me

“You’re a-” her excited shriek came, I rushed over to her and covered her mouth with my hand as I shushed her in panic.

“Whatever you thought you saw, kid. You didn’t. Got it?” I demand as I look over my shoulder for any sign of anyone else, my voice low and threatening. I let go of her mouth slowly, ready to clamp my hand back over her mouth if I needed to.

Her voice was just above a whisper “You’re a mage!” her eyes sparkled with excitement and a hint of fear. Clearly the brainwashing by schools to make everyone fear mages had done nothing to dull the sparkle of them for her but was enough to set doubt in her mind.

Maybe I could deny it until it went away? Kids aren’t that smart. This should be easy.

“Of course not!” I say as brightly as I could.

“So how did you make those jars float then?” she insisted, pouting and putting her hands on her hips

“Are you sure they were floating? Because I remember holding the jars” I said to confuse her. I tried to act as believable as possible

“No. They were floating!” She stomped her foot. Petulant child. I hate kids.

“Listen, kid-”

“Genevieve.” she interrupted me once again.

“Genevieve” I corrected, my teeth clenched. “Magic is frowned upon. Why would I do anything remotely magical if it meant I could get in trouble?”

This seemed to stump her. She frowned as she struggled to think of a reason. As if saved by the bell, Lucan came bounding back into the kitchen.

“Hey Veylyn, I’m back! I see you’ve met my sister Gwen. she hasn’t been causing you any problems has she?” he asked with a smile. Genevieve opened her mouth to say something but I quickly spoke over her “Nope. just introducing ourselves to each other” I looked down at her and tried to communicate to her to stay quiet “Isn’t that right?”

She just nodded.

Lucan glanced around the kitchen and noticed the smashed jars on the floor. “Veylyn! Are you alright? There’s glass everywhere! What happened?” his face was instantly filled with concern and he rushed over to me, checking my hands for cuts. I felt like I was being manhandled. I push him off me.

“I’m fine Lucan, I just..” I glanced back at Genevieve to make sure she wasn’t going to dob me in “dropped the jars by accident. I’ll sweep it up and sort it out. And I’ll pay for the replacements too”

Lucan seemed to wave my comment away “Ah, don’t worry about it. I’ll just tell mum it was me. Plus the rest of the kitchen looks practically spotless other than the soup spills. I can do the rest while you introduce yourself to my parents. They want to meet you”

I was filled with nerves at the prospect but I couldn’t pinpoint why.

Lucan showed me into their living room. It was decorated nicely in different shades of green. Not a colour I would choose but it worked. The walls were adorned with framed pictures ranging from individual pictures of the kids to full family portraits. It felt like a home, Loved.

A voice roused me from my thoughts as I stared around their living room. “So you’re the miracle worker who managed to get my son to cook, hey? What God did you have to pray to to get that to happen? Because I swear I tried them all” Lucan’s dad joked as he got up from their comfortable looking sofa, extending his hand out to me. I shook it politely and sent him a smile.

“‘Cook’ is a strong phrase. I just made sure you came home to a kitchen” I joke back.

“Well, you did a good job regardless. The smell is wonderful and I appreciate being able to come home to an intact kitchen.” Lucan’s mum said from the sofa. “I’m Vivien and this is my husband Markus. We may joke about it but we really are grateful that you decided to help Lucan with food. What even brought you round here?”

I chuckle awkwardly “Oh I er.. I heard the calamity from my bedroom window. My room backs out to your kitchen” I lied. Unsure if Lucan would want me telling his family that ‘he’ almost set his kitchen on fire. “I thought I’d lend a hand. Just being a good neighbour” I shrug.

“You’re from next door?” Markus asked as he flopped back down to his seat next to his wife, wrapping an arm around her. She cuddled into him, it was rather sickening. I just nod.

“Ragneth’s kid, right?” he added, there was something in his voice that I couldn’t quite put my finger on. I nod again. Unease flew through me like a fierce wind. Did they know Ragneth was magic? Had they seen me in my window practising?

Vivien sent an empathic look “I’m sorry about Mrs Garrett... It must have been hard living without a parent”

Markus added “Even if she was a mage. You’ll be better off though. No magic to harm you now. I hardly ever see Ragneth around. Bloody Queen and her mages.” I sent him a cold look. Vivien at least had the decency to slap his arm and give him a withering stare “They lost their mother, have some respect Markus”

“No no..” I said slowly. Trying my best to hide my anger as I struggled to fit in, I clenched my fists against the anger that flooded through me. This conversation was always a hard one for me and it wasn’t the first time I’ve heard it but it still angered me but for the sake of laying low and out of anyone’s radar I tried my best to agree for the safety of Ragneth and myself

“He’s right. Magic is evil. Although the situation was terrible, they have to keep the population safe I guess.” I added convincingly as I could with a brittle smile

Before the conversation could spiral out of control any further, Lucan appeared at the doorway “Hey Veylyn, is the soup ready?” He was completely oblivious to the awkward situation we were in. “I can’t wait for you to try it guys. I had a spoonful and let me just say Veylyn is a wizard with spices!”

Vivien’s expression instantly darkened “Lucas Mattock! What have I said about using that word in this house?”

Lucan looked down at his feet and mumbled an apology to his mother who sighed. I interrupt and say “I’ll go check for you now Lucan. I’ll give you a shout if it’s done” Lucan nods and I quickly hurry into the kitchen. I could hear Lucan getting berated by his mum and dad, it was muffled and I couldn’t quite make out most of the words but the sentiment was clear. Magic is bad.

I groan inwardly to myself as I go over everything that had happened in the last few hours. Of course my spell had to fly through the window of a strict anti-magic family, and having noticed multiple religious carvings lining the walls of the hallway as I had made my way back to the kitchen, Who also appeared to be members of the Congregation of Puritans. A religion whose sole focus was the decimation of mages and magic alike. They even hated the idea of the Queen owning mages, Believing that the only good mage was a dead one.

I had to get out of here and fast.

I check the soup, giving it a quick taste test. It was ready. I called Lucan’s name and I heard him walking into the kitchen, several pairs of footsteps following him. He stood sheepishly at the door flanked by his mum and dad and I looked at the group in confusion. Markus spoke up first.

“Veylyn, Lucan has something to say to you.”

Lucan looked dejected and withdrawn. Wanting nothing more than the ground to swallow him whole, his voice was no longer chipper but was low and quiet. “I’m sorry I called you a wizard Veylyn”

I stood there in silence for a few seconds, blinking before saying “Erm.. it’s OK? I know you didn’t mean anything by it”

Markus focused his attention back on the boy “Good. Now me and mum will set the table. Lucan dish up and call your sister.” he turned to me with a smile and said sweetly “Why don’t you go make yourself at home in the dining room. It’s the first door on your right down the hallway. You can’t miss it”

Yep. I absolutely need to get away from this nutjob family.

I just nod and smile. Making my way to the dining room. The room was plain, a large oak table surrounded by six chairs sat in the centre of the room and a matching oak cabinet with different sauces and the morning’s newspaper on it was off to the side.

Eventually, the table was set and the whole family was sat waiting for the soup to arrive. Much to my dismay, Genevieve decided that she was going to sit next to me. She couldn’t stop staring at me like I was some sort of puzzle she had to solve. I tried to ignore her but I could feel her eyes boring holes into the back of my head. Lucan came in with the pot of soup, it was steaming and filled the room with a great smell. His grin was wide as he ladled soup into everyone’s bowls

“This smells wonderful.” Vivien said as she waited for everyone to be dished up before taking her first spoonful, making a noise of delight and asking “What did you use, Veylyn?”

I just wanted to eat and get out of there so I handed the question over to Lucan. “Lucan did most of the cooking, I just supervised. Ask him” Lucan quickly listed off the ingredients with much enthusiasm. I used this time to tuck into my soup and finish it as quickly as possible. Unfortunately, that was not the end of my ‘interrogation’ it seemed.

“So, how old are you, Veylyn?” Markus asked before taking a spoonful of soup

“Eighteen” I replied quickly. Keeping my answers short so I could spend as little time here as possible. I looked to my left and Genevieve was still staring at me in between spoonfuls of soup. It was freaky and off putting.

“When’s your birthday? Birthdays are always big in this family” Markus inquired again. Thankfully Lucan saved me from answering

“Oh! I can answer this one dad! It’s October 22nd! They were born during that huge storm!” he exclaimed excitedly

I heard a spoon clatter noisily against a bowl, I said nothing and just concentrated on my soup.

“You were born on Ruinfall?” Vivien said quietly. Shock evident in her voice.

I look up from my soup at her and raise an eyebrow “Problem?”

Her voice dropped, it was low but it held a sharpness to it “For you to be born on the kingdom’s darkest day… one can only take it as a sign” she told the now silent table. Everyone’s eyes flickered between me and her

I drop my spoon into my empty bowl and cross my arms as I gaze into her intense stare “A sign of what, exactly?”

Her intense gaze hardened as if she could see every one of my secrets “That you’re a bad omen. Just like that storm, you’re going to build and build until one day you rain hell upon us all. Mark my words” came her chilling reply. Her cold certainty sent a shiver up my spine but I suppressed it. This had not been the first time someone had called me a bad omen, but it was the first time they expanded upon why.

“Lucan! You let a cursed one into our home?! Were the church readings not enough for you? Do you not remember the sermons on the death and destruction that the Gods brought down on us that day?!” Markus shouted, Luncan shrunk in his chair but didn’t reply.

“Hang on, what the hell do you mean ‘cursed one’? You barely even know me!” I snapped back, shifting my attention from Vivien’s cold stare to Markus’ fiery one.

“There were rumours around our church that only one baby was born that day. It was like all the other babies that were meant to be born that day knew what was happening so they waited. But not you. Oh no, we know what you are. You’re a curse. A blight on humanity. I wouldn’t be surprised if you were a disgusting mage too” he sneered at me, squinting at me in an attempt to intimidate me “We should burn you like we burnt your mother. Filthy magic whore”

That was it. I’ve had enough. I got up from my chair, the legs scraping across the floor like thunder in the silent room. “Enough! I am sick to death of people like you shunning me over some superstitious nonsense about a natural weather occurrence!” my fists were clenched as I struggled to contain my fury. Magic flowed within me like heavy rain and I fought to keep it from bubbling up to the surface. The comment about Mrs Garrett had hit a nerve- not just hit it, electrified it.

“You call me a bad omen, and say I’m a monster all because I had the misfortune of being born the same day as some stupid storm! It’s pathetic!” I challenged my voice booming in the small space “What evidence do you have that I am this sign from the Gods that you claim me to be?” I leave a small gap for them to reply. Nothing but shocked silence. I continue on with a smirk “Just as I thought. All you have is some stupid rumour! Have I done anything to you that would even remotely make you think I’m not a good person? No! Instead I chose to help your son out of the goodness of my heart and this- This is how you repay me? By calling my mum a whore and wishing me death?!”

The magic inside me threatened to burst out but I pushed it down. I was furious but I still had control.

“It’s people like you that killed my mother” I spat as I point at the family in turn “It’s people like you that made my life a living hell. But you know what? Fuck you and your stupid religion. If a religion makes you cause harm to others I want no part of it. I can only hope your children escape your tyrannous beliefs before they turn out like you” I stroll out the door, turning back just before I leave and say “Enjoy your soup. I hope you choke on it” I toss them the finger and storm out. Slamming the front door behind me before they even had a chance to reply.