The tall, scary looking man*

We exited his bedroom and proceeded down the stairs. As we started to make out the majority of the living area, I caught a glimpse of a formidable figure. His hair had been carefully arranged, and his suit had been custom-tailored to his specifications. The black pointed shoes he was wearing were as shiny as a crystal. He was carrying a briefcase in one hand, and was in the company of the Canadian women, who was now wearing a short, sophisticated black cocktail dress.

Upon reaching the floor, I noticed Oliver was trembling slightly. I remained silent, determined to observe what would happen next. The woman, whose name I still did not know, pointed her finger at us. A tall, well-groomed man approached, and I assumed it to be Oliver's father. I extended my hand to shake his, and he grudgingly took it. He regarded me for a moment before inquiring, "Who are you? My son did not inform me of you coming over."

I gave him a stern look and said, "I am Alexandra Sir, Oliver's Project Partner and Study Partner. I simply came to assist him with his homework and any assignments he may have missed in the past few weeks."  Oliver's father then turned to him and spoke through gritted teeth, "You have a devoted partner, son."  Oliver glanced across the room and stammered, "Yes, Father, she is."

I was perplexed as to why his father was speaking to him and directing his gaze at him in such a manner. I looked over at the woman, who was seated on the sofa with her phone in her hand, her legs crossed. She appeared to be oblivious to any unusual activity in the household. Memories of her complaining and wishing that Oliver should be conscripted into the military returned to my mind. I glanced at my watch and saw that it was past ten o'clock, and I was required to leave. Asking Oliver's father to take his gaze away from Oliver, I said, "I'm sorry I don't have much time to sit and chat, but I need to get home before it's too late." I smiled at Oliver and was accompanied by a maid to the front door.

.............................................

As I made my way back to my residence, I found myself reflecting on Oliver's behaviour towards his father. His lack of vocalization, the way he cowered and avoided looking his father in the eye, was not the Oliver I had come to know. I fluffed my pillow before sitting down on my bed. I opened my cell phone to check for messages from Oliver, when the double door to my room opened, and I paced my cell phone on my night stand, smiling at my two younger sisters. Amber, the younger twin, spoke first, saying, "Alexa, Olivia's here."   Before I could reply, Olivia burst into my room, asking, "Alexa, why haven't you responded to my calls? I've been at the door for 15 minutes." I put away my phone, a smug smile on my face. "I wanted some quiet, can you blame me?" She shot a playful look at me and tackled me.

My cousin Olivia Shards and her mother Emma Shards are the only living relatives of mine in the country. Since I was 14 years old, I have been living alone with my sisters, Amanda and Amber, for the majority of the year. My aunt would visit on a monthly basis to ensure that we had all the necessary amenities and were in good health. At times, my cousin, Olivia, would accompany her mother and occasionally stay with us to assist with the twins. At the time, I took on the responsibility of taking care of my sisters and practically raising them while my parents were away. Why should I, a young girl, take on such a responsibility? Our mother is a scientist and our father is an international lawyer, which requires both of them to work in multiple countries. I did not want any outsider to take care of us or come too close to my two sisters, especially considering that my sister, Amanda, is not as healthy and prone to illness.

Olivia has always assisted me in looking after my sisters, particularly Amanda. She is the oldest amoungs the twins and was fragile from birth, as she did not receive the same nourishment as Amber in the womb. This and a few other complications caused her to contract a cold a few days after birth. Her body cannot tolerate too much pressure or a very severe illness, thus requiring her to be constantly monitored and cared for. However, Amanda is a strong individual. She has fought through the cold and all other illnesses that have come her way. I know that she is strong, but that does not mean that I will not check in on her and nurture her. After all, she is my younger sister.

Once Amanda and Amber had been placed in their respective beds for the night, Olivia and I sat down to enjoy some snacks and watch a film. After thirty minutes had passed, I continued to check my phone for a response from Oliver, hoping that he had at least gone over some of the material he had missed. However, there was no response. I removed my phone case and retrieved a sticky note with Oliver's name and phone number, adding it to my contact list.

There was no response, and I was about to write again, inquiring about the incident involving his father, when I began to feel that someone was staring at me. I turned to find Olivia had paused the film, and she had asked, "What's going on, Alexa?" I shook my head, putting my phone away. "Nothing." She persisted, so I told her about the events of the preceding week.

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