The White Rose

"Don't worry Jasie," said Dad, his brown eyes looking into my gold ones through the car mirror. "You'll love Kahde. And you know that we probably won't have to move again." It seemed as if he said that last sentence in relief, but his forehead was still crinkled with concern.
"Yeah Dad," I answered, breaking the gaze and turning to face out the window. My face remained devoid of emotion and my eyes, usually either a sad, dull yellow or a happy, chaotic gold, were now just orange. Their usual fizz and spark had gone out of them. I would not allow myself to be hurt again.
"Jasie," he said, his voice sounding as if he had more to say than that. But he did not continue. I did not answer.
The rest of the car ride was silent. I looked out the window at the people walking the streets, the couples hiding under umbrellas and the friends running into the close-together shops to get out of the rain. I saw so much happiness and feeling that I grew even more still inside. I had sworn to myself that I would not care.
My dad sighed. "Jasie," he said again. "Why are you so cold now? So distant? It's like you're afraid to interact with people."
"Take me as I am or ship me out, Dad. I don't need this."
My comment blew his mind so entirely that the car swerved on the busy road and we almost went off the road. But my dad slammed on the brakes and we stopped, getting many annoyed and angry car honks from other drivers who had almost wrecked into us.
"Jasie!" he exclaimed, turning in his seat and giving a look of shock and hurt. "Why would you say that?"
"Because it's true."
"But that's not you," he argued. "What happened to my loving, careful daughter?"
"She got moved away from all the things she cared about," I shot at him, color reaching my cheeks for the first time in months and my eyebrows and corners of my mouth turning down. My fingers balled up in fists. "All her friends, from her mom, I mean, honestly, you expect me to handle everything without fighting back?"
His face was becoming red too. But I didn't care. I knew that it meant that he was getting into one of his tempers, but I had beaten him to it. And I was on a roll. I didn't stop.
"Well, that's 'not me', okay? I'm not some 'yes sir' girl! I'm my own person! I don't need this! So either deal with the lack of-"
"My daughter?" he inturrupted, his voice low but furious. "Because this isn't who you are."
My face drained of color and my fingers un-balled themselves. Then the grabbed on to the door handle and yanked the door open, taking the handle off in the process. It fell too the floor of the car with a loud thud and I jumped out into the rain. I was immediately soaked from head to toe, but I did not rejoin my father. I knew how to get to the new house. I would walk there, and when I arrived, I would set my rules-- rules that if he broke would turn into horrible consequences. I did not close the door as I began to jog away.
"Jasephine Lockson you get back here NOW!" My father yelled from the car.
I barked a cruel, hard laugh and turned around to face hm, now a couple yards away. "Why don't you try to... to..." my voice faltered as I lost all of my anger. My lips formed words that I had not meant to say. "Why don't you try to understand?" I screamed, my tears matching the rain that was slowly making me shiver.
His face melted into a face of confusion just as I sprinted away into the slick city streets.