The Estranged Family

The discovery of his father's estranged family came as a shock to Vic. It was a rainy Sunday afternoon when he stumbled upon an old photo album in the attic. The house was unusually quiet, with Henry passed out on the couch and Sarah out with her friends. Mary was at work, leaving Vic alone to explore.

Dust motes danced in the beams of sunlight that filtered through the attic window. Vic sneezed as he opened the album, the musty smell of old paper filling his nostrils. The first few pages were filled with familiar faces—his parents, younger and happier, and baby pictures of Sarah and himself. But as he turned the pages, the images changed.

There were pictures of a large, imposing house, grand and luxurious. A family posed in front of it, smiling and carefree. Vic recognized his father immediately, though he looked younger and healthier. Beside him stood a woman with striking features, her arm wrapped around two children—a boy and a girl, both around Vic's age.

Confusion gnawed at him. Who were these people? And why had his father never mentioned them? Vic's heart pounded as he continued flipping through the album. There were more pictures of this mysterious family, their lives seemingly perfect and untouched by the struggles that plagued his own.

Vic closed the album, his mind racing. He had to know more. He crept downstairs, careful not to wake Henry, and found the family computer. It took some digging, but he eventually unearthed an article about his father's estranged family. The headline read, "Wealthy Local Family Cuts Ties with Estranged Son."

The article detailed how Henry's family, the prestigious Kensingtons, had disowned him after a series of reckless behaviors and financial mishaps. They were wealthy, influential, and had distanced themselves completely from Henry after he married Mary. Vic felt a pang of jealousy and confusion. Why did they hate his mother so much? And why had they never reached out to him?

Later that evening, Vic approached his mother as she was preparing dinner. "Mom, can I ask you something?"

Mary looked up, her eyes wary. "What is it, Vic?"

"I found some old photos in the attic. Who are the Kensingtons?"

Mary's face paled, and she set down the knife she was holding. "Where did you hear that name?"

"I found an article online," Vic admitted. "Why did Dad's family cut him off?"

Mary sighed, wiping her hands on a towel. "It's a long story, Vic. Henry came from a very wealthy family, but he was always the black sheep. When he married me, they saw it as the final straw. They thought I wasn't good enough for him."

"But why?" Vic pressed. "You're a good person."

Mary gave a bitter laugh. "In their eyes, I was just a poor girl from the wrong side of town. They couldn't accept that their precious son had fallen for someone like me."

Vic's heart ached with a mixture of anger and sadness. "Do they even know I exist?"

Mary's expression softened. "I'm sure they do. But they chose to ignore us. To them, we don't matter."

Vic's jealousy deepened. The Kensingtons lived in luxury while he and his mother struggled to make ends meet. How could they be so heartless? He felt a surge of anger toward his father for driving them away and toward the Kensingtons for abandoning them.

The next day at school, Vic couldn't concentrate. The images of his father's other family haunted him. He felt like an outsider in his own life, rejected by people he had never met. His classmates' taunts and Sarah's cruelty only amplified his feelings of worth lessness. The weight of his isolation grew heavier, pressing down on him with each passing day.

That evening, Vic decided to confront his father. He found Henry in his usual spot on the couch, a bottle of whiskey clutched in his hand. The room smelled of alcohol and stale air, a stark contrast to the opulence of the Kensingtons' world.

"Dad, can we talk?" Vic asked, his voice trembling.

Henry grunted, barely acknowledging him. "What do you want, boy?"

"I found some old photos and an article about your family," Vic said, steeling himself. "Why did they cut you off?"

Henry's eyes flickered with anger. "Who told you about that?"

"No one. I found it on my own. Why did they disown you?"

Henry took a long swig from his bottle, his face twisted with bitterness. "They're a bunch of snobs, that's why. Thought they were too good for me and your mother. They never gave a damn about us."

"But why didn't you ever try to make things right?" Vic's voice rose, the frustration boiling over. "Why didn't you fight for us?"

Henry slammed the bottle down, making Vic flinch. "You think I didn't try? They wanted nothing to do with me. And now you're blaming me for it?"

Vic's anger turned to desperation. "I just want to understand. Why did you let them treat us like this?"

Henry's gaze softened for a moment, a flicker of regret crossing his face. "I didn't have a choice, Vic. They cut me off, and that was it. I made mistakes, but they were the ones who turned their backs on us."

Vic felt a mix of emotions—anger, sadness, and a glimmer of empathy. He realized that his father was as much a victim of the Kensingtons' rejection as he was. But it didn't erase the pain of feeling unwanted, unloved by both his immediate and extended family.

As the weeks passed, Vic tried to push the thoughts of the Kensingtons aside. He threw himself into his books, the stories offering a temporary escape from his reality. But the sense of worthlessness lingered, a shadow that refused to be banished.

One afternoon, as he sat in the library, Lisa approached him again. "Hey, Vic. How's it going?"

Vic managed a small smile. "It's okay, I guess."

Lisa studied him, her eyes filled with concern. "You seem down. Is everything alright?"

Vic hesitated, then decided to confide in her. "I found out about my dad's family. They're rich and they cut him off. It's like they don't care about us at all."

Lisa's expression softened. "That's rough. I'm sorry you're going through that."

Vic sighed, feeling a weight lift slightly from his shoulders. "Thanks. It's just… hard, you know?"

Lisa nodded. "I get it. But you're not alone, Vic. You've got me, and Mrs. Hendricks. We care about you."

Vic's heart warmed at her words. For the first time in a long while, he felt a glimmer of hope. Maybe, just maybe, there were people who cared about him, who saw him as more than just an unwanted burden.