The Doll Garden

Ten

"First, the press. Now this. What's next?" Mirabelle spat out.

Manuel scoffed out a laugh. "And then people wonder why we didn't make friends in this neighborhood. We're not spoiled brats who think we're too good. Everyone's just dickheads!"

I could only rage with them in silence as I scrubbed the red spray paint off our doors. I scrubbed so hard I could have mistaken the bright scarlet paint for my own blood oozing from my fingertips. Our mansion had been the target of pranks before. But it was never this bad.

We could handle young teens egging our doorstep on Halloween night. What we couldn't handle were people defaming my siblings' and my character without knowing the facts. This didn't just affect our father anymore. And that wasn't going to fly under my radar.

"At least we caught them on the security cameras." Aaron sighed.

"Speaking of which, what did my father say about that?" Mirabelle questioned. "We heard him discussing the matter with all of you earlier."

"He just ordered that the footage be collected and given to him. I'm not sure what he plans on doing with the camera footage after that. Whether he'll hand it over to the police or not and let them handle it." Aaron shrugged.

"Ridiculous. Just fucking ridiculous. I don't give a damn about catching them or punishing them at this point. Teens are going to be teens. There are probably more teens like them waiting to target us again. Especially the ones who live around here.

"They might even leave town and bring more of their friends from another neighborhood next time. I just want all of this bullshit to end already. Is that too much to ask? Is it, really!?" My rambling came to an end with deep breaths, my shoulders shaking, and my fingers trembling.

Mirabelle's, Manuel's, and Aaron's eyes were roaming over my fingers. It was only then I realized I had been scraping my knuckles against the door while scrubbing during my rant. The skin on my knuckles was red, throbbing, and warm—almost too hot.

"Hey, I finished refilling the bucket with more soap and water for you ... um ... did I miss something here?" Andy slowing his approach in the corner of my eyes was enough to help me recover from my outburst.

My nostrils flared and I cleared my throat. "Excuse me for a moment..."

"Ah shit, was it me? Did I say something wrong?"

"It's got nothing to do with you, baby. You just always have bad timing."

I could hear Andy and Mirabelle whispering behind me as I shuffled past all of them up the stairs. I sped into the safe confinement of my room, shutting the door, and leaning my back against it with my head tilted back to the ceiling.

"What the hell was that, Jenna?" I patronized myself.

I had allowed my temper to get the best of me. Self-control was something I couldn't help but practice on my own growing up. It was a must if I wanted to keep what was left of my sanity in this place. But every so often, my frustration would slip and I'd snap. None of them were used to seeing me lose my shit like that.

There'd been one incident before I left for college where I'd gotten myself into a screaming match with my father at the dinner table. I'd gotten tired of questioning and demanded to know more about our mother. Not to my surprise, that hadn't gotten me anywhere except leaving home on bad terms with him.

It was our very last genuine conversation and the very last time I saw him in person. My therapist had warned me my anger issues weren't getting any better on multiple occasions. Neither was the patience I used to cherish myself for having. I'd probably frightened everyone down there just now.