This Is Your Life

CHARLOTTE

         I opened my eyes only to shut them again because of the harsh light staring down at me. I slowly opened them again and became faced with the gruff anonymous man staring at me. Once he saw that I was awake he smirked sickly. "Ready for more?" He laughed. "How long have I been here?" I coughed out. My throat was dry and it hurt to talk. "3 months." He answered simply. 3 months!! God, I miss my mom. I looked at the man. He had a muscular build, short light brown hair and soul searching blue eyes. My mom had beautiful green eyes. They always sparkled when she was happy. "Lets get started." The man said, making his way towards me. I sucked in my breath and held my eyes shut.
    
    "Charlotte Mae Sinclair!" "Yes, Tara Lynn Sinclair?" She rolled her eyes. "Where do you think your going?" She asked me, crossing her arms over her chest. "Holly's." My 14 year old self answered her. "Alright. Next time tell me before you make plans, and be careful." I smiled, to which she smiled. I hugged her tightly. "I will mom, I love you." I backed away and her eyes sparkled with happiness. "I love you too Charlie. Be careful." "I will." I called over my shoulder as I walked out the door.

    I groaned in pain as I twisted uncomfortably in the chair. My wrists were cut open to the point that my skin tried to heal around the chains, as if they were becoming apart of me. I looked up and the man was glaring at me, like he was confused and trying to figure out something that only I knew. But before I could ask what is it that he wanted to know, he advanced towards me and gripped his rough yet soft hands around my neck. My vision blurred and I couldn't catch my breath. As I faded I swear I heard him growl. "You can't be her!"

    "Charlie, maybe she's not telling you because he was a bad guy." Holly, my best friend since 3rd grade, told me. "Well I'd like to know something other than a fake name. Maxwell McKinley. I mean, when she first told me his name, I looked him up online." My 16 year old self explained. "And?" Holly asked eagerly. "It said he was born in 1890. You do know that would make him 124 years old." I sighed. "I just want the truth for once, and my mom is not going to give them." "Give her time. Maybe you won't like what she has to say when she does tell you." "Maybe." 

    "Your not her! You can't be!" The man yelled. It made me want to cower into the corner and cover my ears like a 6 year old. "What?" I asked, ignoring the burning sensation in my throat. He did feed me and let me have water, but it wasn't often, just enough to keep me alive. "You..." He paused. "Are you the daughter of Tara Lynn Sinclair?" He asked. I looked up at my mom's name. The man's eyes revealed pain, loss, and... Love? "Yes. I'm Charlotte Mae Sinclair." I answered. The man cringed, and demanded his servant - Preston- to go get water and some food. "How do you know my mom?" I asked, cringing in pain. The man sighed, looking at me with an expression I couldn't and didn't know. "Because I'm Maxwell Joesph McKinley. Your father."