Checkmate, Changing the First Trauma (1)

Checkmate,

Checkmate,

Checkmate,

Checkmate,

The word echoed in the head of my Father on a loop, and with their presence in his mind, his entire demeanor seemed to change, as the planted thoughts and commands I had left behind years ago triggered.

Looking up from the scattered papers on the ground, my Father smirked, not unlike the one I used against opponents, and glared at Amanda.

"Your house, your money, yours this and that, you OWN NOTHING!" He stated with as much hostility as the woman had been showing moments before, causing her to shrink back as if she had been slapped.

Never before had he raised his voice at her, even during their fights or arguments; my Father stayed passive and almost submissive, as he was raised to never hit or yell at women.

His sudden shift in attitude left Amanda at a loss for words, but it didn't end there as the plans I had set in motion years ago came into play.