Protagonist Party: A Narrative Fiction

I had just walked in the back door from playing in the enormous yard behind our house, when I suddenly see my mother and father hunched over, whispering. Accidentally getting mud all over my skirt while outside, I stayed quiet so my mother wouldn’t see. I could tell they weren’t discussing anything happy, because my mother had worry lines plastered on her forehead. Even the feeling in the room was grim, the normally bright blue couch looking like rainy gray skies. But the telltale sign that something was terribly wrong was that my father’s eyes were as dull as murky water.
Neither of my parents noticed me standing at the door, so I listened to the hushed whispers that barely carried across the room. Mama and Papa have told me to not listen to others conversations, as it’s rude.
They did not have our consent to tax us and therefore cannot. But they did. Most of us agree it was unconstitutional,” My father said. “Well what do we do? Mary and I love playing with our paper dolls. Please don’t take them away!” I exclaimed. I might be a bit old for dolls, however Mary, my five year old sister, was in love with them and played with them everyday.
“So every piece of paper we use, we are taxed. But even though the amount is relatively small, the total will build up over time,” my father says, although he seemed as if it was to assure himself more than my mother and me.
“Will we have enough money for food? What about clothes? Oh no, papa. Mary can’t find out,” I worried. I didn't know how this would turn out. I hope there won’t be a war. Then papa might have to fight. I couldn’t even think about losing him. But papa stopped my train of thought, “Oh no. You mustn’t tell Mary. She is much too young for this kind of burden. But tell her to take care of her dolls, lest they break,” he said quickly. I nodded and promised him I wouldn’t tell. He and mama gave me quick kisses on my forehead and I padded towards my bedroom