I feel so alone. I am in a room full of people and still feel isolated. I am sitting right in the middle and they still talk around me. They say they know me and that they are there for me. Yet they have no clue how left out I feel. How much I'm panicking on the inside. If they knew me, they would take my calm facial expressions for the anxiety attack that's about to burst out of me. My hands are clutching the arms of the wooden seat I'm sitting in. My back leaning straight against it. My amber eyes wondering nervously around the room, looking for a way out. Too many people are blocking the way. I wouldn't be able to run, without knocking into the people that say they are here for me. So, I sit, knuckles turning white, sweat lightly sticking strands of blonde hair to my forehead, trying not to burst into tears. My heart is about to break my ribs from beating on them so hard and the voice is screaming in my head to get out.

They are so loud. Chattering about nonsense. There are bigger problems than someone's kid winning a participation trophy. Do they not understand what that does to a child? It makes them think they will always be owed something without having to earn it. Thinking everything should be handed to them on a silver platter. I'm not sure how much more of this I can listen too. I want to get out of this over-populated room. I want to breathe again. I'm suffocating, and no one knows. No one cares to ask if I'm okay. They see that calm look on my face, not my nails digging into the arms of the chair. They never look below the surface. Only what is on top. The stuff they want to see. They want the smile on my face to be real. They want my eyes to focus on the person talking to me. Listen to the words coming out of their sophisticated mouths. Give sincere comments back in response. All of which are difficult to do when I'm trying to hold my breath.

"Kaylee, have you found a college you want to go to yet?" My Aunt Jenny asked taking a sip of her white wine. Her long fingers hold the glass lightly, her eyes peering at me over the glass. She is my mother's eldest sibling. A very proud, uptight, and controlling, very very controlling. She gets that from her mom, my grandmother.

"No, not yet Aunt Jenny." I mumble, keeping my eyes from reaching hers.

"Speak up. You know I'm hard on hearing." She snaps, setting her glass on the wood dining table almost hard enough to shatter it. I wince back, watching the wine in the glass swish back and forth.

"No, I don't know where I want to go to College." I raise my voice and finally looked at her, still avoiding eye contact. Though I can still feel those venomous hazels staring into me.

"You're about to finish your junior year, correct?" She asks harshly.

"Yes."

"Well you need to get on it. You don't have much time." She picks up her wine glass again, swirling it around the glass before taking a classy sip.

"I'm not sure I want to go to college." I admit looking away, taking a sip of my own glass of water.

There was a gasp from everyone that sat at the table. I knew it was coming. They all want me to go to college and go into the business like everyone else. I watch out of the corner of my eye, Aunt Jenny pull her husband, Cal, to the side. She is whispering to him, probably how disappointed she is. I am always the disappointment.

"Talia, what is this? Your eldest doesn't want to go to college?" She yells to my mother who was in the kitchen. I heard something clatter and fall to the floor, then my mother pokes her head out of the kitchen. Her perfect long blonde hair flooding down to the floor as she looks sideways at me. Her eyes are squinted at me, lips pursed at an angle. At this time, I wish I could crawl back to my room where I actually feel welcomed.

My mother and I haven't really talked about my future. I am the eldest of four and am expected to get my bachelors in either Strategic communications like my father or become a risk manager like my mother. Both are very good at what they do. Both successful and run their own companies. My fathers had been handed down to him by his father and my mother started from scratch. I have been raised since the day I was born to take over one of the two businesses or merge them. They were hoping for the latter. They would have liked to merge their companies together earlier, but they work better as a loving husband and wife than business partners. I am to merge both businesses and run them as one company. I don't want to. I want nothing to do with either business. I won't talk about it with either parent, because I know how upset or pissed off they will be. I only hope to keep the conversation at bay for as long as possible.

"I'm sure any college will be glad to have her as a student." Uncle Charlie pats my hand, giving me a sincere smile, one I try to return.

He is the middle sibling to my mother. My mom being the youngest. He gave my Aunt a look of 'back off'. Her response is to huff, get up and walk away. Not unusual for her. If things don't go her way now, she will be back to try again. My uncle went back to talking to one of my cousins who was sitting to his right. If you hadn't already guessed it, I am at a family reunion...on my mother's side. Unfortunately, it's at my house and I'm not allowed to leave.

My mother knows how much I dislike socializing, yet she makes me do it anyway. I would much rather be laying on my bed, reading a book or listening to music. My family is all around me, but I still feel like a stranger. I decide to try and move somewhere a little quieter. I hope outside would suffice. The porch doesn't look to crowded and my dad is outside grilling. My grandfather with his white mustache sits at the table with his glass of top shelf whiskey talking to my younger brother, David, about his days in the war. David still loves to hear grandfather's stories. They don't notice me as I walk out the sliding door and took a seat on the corner of the porch, curling my feet underneath me. the suns rays shining down on me.

There are four of us. I'm the oldest at seventeen. I'm almost positive I was supposed to be a boy. My parents only had me to be the heir of their companies. I'm nothing special. Carter is three years younger than me but acts like he is superior to everybody. He doesn't think I should be heir. Though I agree, unfortunately mother and father don't care what we think about it. I was born first therefore I'm to take over. Carter has soft features but the strong jaw like our father. His hazel eyes seem a mixture of mother and father eyes. At least his eyes don't see straight thorough you, like mothers. I can't stand the look she gets when she is angry.

Then there is David, he's twelve. He is a spitting image of Father. Dark brown hair, baby blue eyes, strong jaw line. I'm just glad he doesn't have the mustache yet. I can just see the twitch it gets when father is angry. I've seen it a lot. He does it when he's disappointed too. David doesn't have fathers' anger, at least not yet. He just wants everyone to be friends. He can be very protective too. Emily is the baby, she is eight years old of sheer curiosity and kindness. I'm not sure where she got it from, cause it sure isn't from mother and father. She does have mothers bleach blonde hair though, while Carter and I got more of a dirty blonde.

She is the best out of all of us. Perfect dimples on each cheek, a radiating smile, and she has sapphire blue eyes that can see straight through you. Both of our parents see her becoming a lawyer one day. You can't lie to her, she will make your heart hurt.

I look over and notice Emily, running around with our younger cousins. All under the age of 8. It is cute to see them so carefree. Not caring about what the future might lay ahead of them. I wish I could go back in time to those days. I don't want to worry about the future. I hate the future. Only because my family has it already written it for me. I wish they could see that I don't want to work in the family business. I have no desire to run such a large company. I don't even know what I want to do. I have no talent, no friends, no life. I must focus hard on keeping my grade point average as high as I can. While working at both companies. I don't do a lot right now only because I am still in school, but of course they want me to learn each side. It's a lot to put on a seventeen-year old's plate.

I move my gaze over to my father, watching him flip burgers. With a flick of his wrist, the burger lifts off the spatula, a little grease flies into the air, but the burger lands on the other side, sizzling. My dad can make anything look effortless. Just like his job. He has been doing it for so many years now, it is second nature to him. As well as his father before him. I know dad would have like to have a boy first, not that he would ever admit it, but it would mean a faster answer than what I will give him.

"Have you decided which business you want to take over yet?" My grandfather spoke to me.

My father and brother are now focused on me. I keep my eyes on grandfather, not wanting to meet my father's degrading stare. I rub the back of my neck before I answer.

"I have yet to decide." I say with an uneasy grin. I didn't have to look at my dad to know the look on his face.

Disappointment.

I can't wait for this day to be over. I'm getting tired of trying to explain myself to everyone. Why haven't you decided? Don't you want to take over the business? You can't wait too long to decide. Blah blah blah. And they say they know me. If they knew anything about me, they would know I want nothing to do with any of this crap.

I feel distant as I grab food from the kitchen. My mind is wandering elsewhere, while my hands move on their own. It's like my body is on autopilot. I eventually sit back at the table, where I started. Others sit around me, chattering amongst themselves. All I can do is slowly pick at the food on my plate. I can hear my mother talk with my Aunt about my future once again. Why can't they just stay out of my life? I want to scream at them to stop talking about me. Let me decide my future on my own. I hold myself back. I don't want to make a scene. I hate when eyes are all on me. I hate any kind of attention and my mother knows that. Yet she keeps me in the center like a puppet on a string.

Their mouths keep moving, but I can't understand what they are saying. Eyes look over at me every now and then. All I can do is focus on my plate. Hoping this will all be over soon. My mother sits across from me, talking to Aunt Jenny. The disgust on her face is prominent while she speaks to her sister. My father stands near the sliding doors to the porch, a plate in one hand a burger in the other, listening to my brother, Carter speak to my uncle. Everyone looks so relaxed, but heads all held high from out snobby status. I wish I was never born into this family. I wish they would all just leave.

The minute the last of the family finally leaves, I don't hesitate to run down to my room and slam the door behind me. My excuse is I have homework to do. My room is in the basement, almost hidden in the back. It's a spacious room. I have a queen size bed pushed up against the wall under one of the basement windows. I have a nice walk in closet that is under the stairs. A beautiful dark wood dresser with a large mirror. I have two large bookshelves, filled with all the books I want. I am either reading or writing. Writing is the only way I can express myself. No one will listen to me and I don't like to participate in sports or activity that can let me lose some steam. Not saying that I'm not active. I am very active. I have three younger siblings I must watch over. Two of which are in sports. One soccer and the other baseball. Since mother and father are usually always gone, I'm the one there to help them practice.

Our routine is simple. A three to five mile run in the morning before school. Then they have practice after school. On weekends we would switch off practicing each sport. It made it easier when my parents weren't home. Though as Carter got older, the less I was able to do with them. As he took over my babysitting duties. It was frowned upon me to have too much fun. I had to be studying or working. I need to have my focus on the businesses. It got worse as I got older. I'm lucky if I can even go to the boy's games. Father seemed to only start going as the boys got older. He got more involved after my sister was born. I guess now he can have the little girl he always wanted, not some business women like I'm supposed to become. I don't remember a time my father ever called me his baby girl. It is always 'you're going to do great things in the company' or 'study hard and you will be in my shoes sooner than you think'. Blah! It makes me sick. I wish I could have just been a kid, like my siblings. I'll just stick to my running in the morning with my brothers.

Ah, the comfort of my room. I don't hesitate to strip the dress my mother made me wear. It is a light blue sun dress. I make sure to hang it on a hanger and hang it up in my closet. I'm sure my mother would kill me if I let it fall to the floor in a scrunched up in a ball. Though I would be quite alright with that. I scrummage through my drawers looking for a pair of sweatpants and a tank top. I pull my curly dirty blonde hair into a loose pony and crawl onto my bed. My comfy soft sheets give me the best welcoming. I grab the latest book from my bedside table and get comfortable curled up into the corner of my bed, surrounded by pillows. It doesn't take long to fall asleep reading. It's something I do often.

"You will never be good enough." The voice echoes though my head.

"They don't care about you." I toss and turn under the sheets; my closed eyes can't squeeze any more shut.

"You are just a toy in their plan. Nothing special. Not even wanted but for one reason." I can feel the tears slowly sliding down my cheek.

"They don't even love you...they never will."

Old memories flash in my mind. All the times I thought I was finally feeling wanted. Times I wanted to think I was. I had made myself believe they wanted me there, but in reality, I was only there for show. I was there to make them look good. I was there because I would be the new face of the merged company they wanted. Something I want nothing to do with. I scrunch my face in anger and hurt. The tears seem to fall more. Another night of hurt that I can't seem to stop.

In the morning, waking up is brutal. The nightmares scare me into not wanting to wake up. The voice has cause me to hate reality. The truth it tells me, makes it harder and harder to get up in the morning. I'd rather just stay asleep and never wake up, but then I realize I won't be able to handle the voice forever. It haunts my dreams, telling me the cold hard truth of reality. Making me not sure what I want more. To never wake up and live my nightmares or wake up and face the wrath of reality. I slowly sit up in my bed, rubbing my tired eyes. After a long drawn out yawn, I open my eyes and look at my hands. They are covered in smudged black eyeliner and mascara.

"Shit." I whisper to myself.

I knew I forgot something. I walk over to my vanity and took out a makeup remover wipe. I hate wearing makeup, well I don't mind it. I only use it to hide the dark circles under my eyes. I don't like my mother asking questions about my looks.

I must always look representable, powerful, like my mother and father. I must wear professional outfits most of the time when at school or at work. When with family, it is a dress or dressy outfit. I have too pretty much hide my sweats and t-shirts. I have workout clothes that are only for working out, not lounging around the house.

"Back straight, no slouching." I can hear my mother's voice ringing in the back of my head.

Another reason why I like to hide in my room. I can act however I want to in my room. I made it clear that my parents aren't allowed in as I got older, unless absolutely necessary. So far, they have done a good job of respecting my rule. Though if I listen to the voice in my head, it's because they don't care enough to come in. That damn voice.

Today is Sunday and I know we have to go to church soon. I clean up my face cleaned up then head to my closet to pick out a Sunday best. I pick out a cranberry pleated short sleeve dress that goes down to my knees. A simple modest dress that is perfect for church going. I don't mind church, mainly because it seems to be one of the only times the voice will shut up. The thing I didn't like was being so cramped together. I always end up stuck in the middle of my siblings and my parents at the end. It is always the same. We sit in the same pew, same order. Listen to the service. Those of us who can do communion do it every other Sunday and the younger kids will go up when they call up the children. Then after we will go have brunch in the cafeteria where my mom would sometimes try and set me up with one of the church going boys from other high-class families. Then after brunch we would go home, and I would disappear into my bedroom. Today was not going to be any different. It would be better for it to get done with quickly.

After church and brunch is finished, we hop into the family SUV and father drives us home. SUV's are supposed to be spacious, well with two brothers and sister...it's not spacious at all. I think I'm going to start driving myself to church. This is getting ridiculous. I'm too old for this crap. Seventeen isn't that old, but they want me to grow up so fast, that it's making me feel too old. My two brothers are bickering at each other over who knows what and Emily is trying to talk over them. They are so loud, it's making my ears and head hurt. They are so naive. They don't have such a heavy weight on their shoulders, but sometimes I wish they would shut up. I want to scream at them. I want to slap my brothers. Now my dad is yelling at them to stop bickering and telling Emily to lower her voice. Emily listens, but my brothers, they have now started to do wimpy slapping of their hands at each other.

I turn my gaze away from them and stare out the window, detaching myself from what is going inside the vehicle. I let my mind wonder, not really thinking about anything in particular. I would much rather have an empty mind than a mind that can't decide what to think about. There are so many things that I should be thinking about, but I have no desire to. All it does is make it harder to look forward to the future.

"Kaylee!" My fathers shout brings me back from zoning out.

"Yes, father." I say.

"Will you stop zoning out? You can't do that when you are CEO. You need to pay attention." I nod waiting for him to continue.

"Anyway, have you started your college applications?" I knew this was coming and they know I can't avoid it when I'm stuck in the car with them.

"Kind of." I don't lie but I don't tell the truth either. I do have the paper work for it, I just haven't started it yet.

"Kind of? Its yes or no. You either did or you didn't."

"I haven't." I interrupted him.

"Don't interrupt your father." My mother snaps at me. I roll my eyes and look back out the window.

"You get those finished as soon as possible. What are you planning on going for?" He asks, a calmer tone coming from his vocal cords.

"I don't know yet." I mumble.

"What?"

"I said business management for now, until I know for sure." I spoke up, trying to sound confident with the lie.

"That's a good start but try and decide soon." All I did was give him a nod, his eyes still boring into me from the rearview mirror.

It wasn't long until we pulled into our driveway and we all scrambled out of the vehicle. I head straight to the door to go inside the house from the garage. Then I am stopped. I hear my mother call my name and I gave a low groan before turning to face her. I look into her matching amber eyes and wait for what she is going to say.

"You can hang upstairs with us today. You don't need to go play loner in your room." She seems to scoff at me. If only she knew my reasons.

"I have homework." I argue, keeping my face straight.

"How much homework is school giving you? You are always doing homework. You can take a break."

"I did, I went to church." I see a glint of anger pass over my mother's eyes. She tries not to let me see it, but I do. I know how much she hates it when I don't give in right away.

"Your father and I were thinking we could all go to the park. Your coming with us." She orders. I wants to scoff, roll my eyes, something, but I don't.

"Since when do you guys take us to the park?" I ask, it was more of a stab not a question.

"We take you kids to the park all the time." She gasps, her hand covering her heart, like I offended her. I open my mouth to smart back, but mother puts her hand up to stop me.

"You are not going to continue to argue with me. We are going to spend family time together and you're going to like it." She demands before walking past me into the house. Now I can roll my eyes.

I don't know who she was trying to prove herself too, me or herself. Her and father rarely ever take us out. Except to rich people parties to show us off and make a good impression for the public. It is like this every Sunday. Like it is the only day we can be a family or pretend to be one. That's if one of them weren't on a business trip or something. I stopped enjoying Sundays the older I got. Now being seventeen, I can't stand them. It just makes me realize how alone I really am. How little my parents know about me. They would never be able to understand me anyway. I walk into the house and quickly step downstairs and slip into my bedroom. Nice, quiet and peaceful, just how I like it. No bickering, no one trying to one up each other, no yelling. It feels so good. Now I just hope they forget about me. Which isn't hard for them to do.

I sit down at the desk in thecorner of my room. I figure I might as well as fill out those forms. That wayif my parents do come down, I can say I'm busy. They wouldn't want me to notget my forms filled out. This is their idea. I have no desire to go to college,but what choice do I have. I have no choice. I will forever be stuck under myparent's rule, no matter how hard I want to run away from them. Either way Isat with a pen in my right hand, staring at the questions in front of me. I'vebeen staring at if for fifteen minutes now and the only thing written is myname, date and birth date. I'm realizing just how much I want nothing to dowith college. This is going to be so much harder than I thought. I turn on sometunes and begin to try and focus.