Balery – 2

“Balery O’callaghan, what have you done? Jumping Jehosophat, what have you done?” Sean screamed as his daughter joined him once again in the headmaster’s office. It was the third school for Balery this year. Each time she would swear on her dead mother’s grave that she wouldn’t do anything again. Whatever lived inside of that girl’s mind was as dark as a starless night.

“Da, she called me Crazy Balery. She had it coming. You know I hate when they call me crazy,” she said. “I had to do it. I’m Sean O’callaghan’s daughter. I can’t have her ruining your name with lies,” Balery said proudly. It was the third incident at the school this semester. The first time she pushed Thomas Leary down the stairs and broke his leg in three places. The second time was when she held a girl in her gym class underwater until she drowned. Thankfully for her, she was resuscitated but never returned to school. Today was the worst of all of them. She killed her teacher in a fit of rage, and now the school couldn’t cover up her actions.

“Sean, yer daughter is a god damn nutter. She held Mrs. O’leary down, stuffed a funnel in her mouth, and poured in the Drano from the utility closet. That pour woman suffered. I have to call the police this time,” the headmaster said. “She suffered for heaven’s sake. She boiled in her fluids,” he added, this time his hand covering his mouth to prevent vomiting. “I can’t cover it up again!”

Before Balery could speak, her father laid the back of his hand across her cheek, tossing the girl into the wall with a deafening thud. The entire room still, not even a breath taken. Sean O’callaghan rarely laid hands on his child, but she had become a liability.

“But, Da,” Balery cried. After holding her breath for what seemed like an hour, she allowed herself to scream. It wasn’t in pain, but shock and anger. She never allowed anyone to lay hands on her, but her father wasn’t just anyone.

Ignoring his daughter, Sean knew the only way to get this girl out of another mess was to send her away finally. Boarding school was on the table for years, but he refused to entertain the idea of sending his daughter away to live until today. “Remove her from her classes. She will be transferring to a boarding school in London. None of these incidents will be on her transfer paperwork,” Sean said. He ignored the man and his protests, sending a text to his men.

“I need a clean up at the Gales Academy. A female needs removed. Make it look like an accident. Oh, she is already dead, so drive her off a cliff and make sure the automobile explodes on impact.”

“Balery, get yer bag. You’ve done it for the last time.”

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