"Father, this is ridiculous!" I snap, my temper finally breaking. "You let this-this girl-you let her family feed off of our wealth - off of your wealth - and she doesn't even care! She hates you! I can see it in her eyes!"
"Be still, son! That is enough of this nonsense!" My father was now completely blind and deaf to the truth. I stormed out of the room, still furious but knowing it was hopeless to continue arguing. I stomped through the large front door at the exact same moment as Elizabeth passed through on her way back in.
"Oh, hello, William," she said nervously. Something was different; she'd always seemed disturbed by me - and I by her - but tonight she seemed strangely on edge.
"Hello, Elizabeth," I responded. "I was just heading out for a stroll through the gardens." I despised myself for saying this next bit, but it was only out of courtesy that I added, "Would you care to join me?"
"Oh - no, thank you very much, but -"
"Ah, well. I'll just walk alone with my thoughts, then. If my father asks, tell him I expect to be back in about an hour."
"Okay." She passed me one last nervous, concerned glance on my way out and then we were separated by the door swinging shut.
A few moments later, I found myself strolling along a row of dark-colored flowers which I didn't quite recognize. They were beautiful, with almost black petals and dark green veins, which made for an interesting contrast. I kept walking, glancing sideways every few steps at the flowers. They were much like me - they were dark, but still had some different elements to them. I, too, was full of sharp contrasts. I was a mass of contradictions.
For example, my dilemma about Elizabeth. I understood her feelings, yet I could not forgive her feelings towards my father. There was also, of course, the argument with my father himself - it had all started because I had quietly thought aloud, what does she really think of you? My father had whipped his head round at me and asked whatever I had meant. I had merely been curious of the true nature of Elizabeth's relationship with my father. Then, the argument had escalated and we had both began shouting at one another.
That whole argument, all because I pitied and hated Elizabeth all at once. It seemed odd that one's feelings could cause such conflict with loved ones. I turned around and began to reverse course towards the house. I walked along, silently contemplating the darkness that grew all around me.
When I got there, I came upon a scene of tragedy. My father lay dead upon the floor.
"Father!" I shouted, collapsing next to him. "Elizabeth! Where are you?"
Still nothing. That - that bitch! She must have had something to do with it. Now, I had no one left. I was alone with the shadows, shadows of loved ones now gone - of irrevocable misdoings.