Where We Began

Hayden North

My mother wasn't acting right. If I use that excuse, maybe her actions word hurt less. Many of the things she did in the past weren't as bad as this.  Nothing could have stopped her. My father couldn't keep her restrained from me. His low voice was loud to the ringing in my ears.

The ringing to the sound of her hand connecting to my skin stunned me. She never wanted me to know before she told us. Why? That day, I cried for hours. The only my father could do instead of saying sorry was holding me. No way objected my mother from what she thinks. Her mind cannot be determined by a child.

Everything was in her power because she was an adult. An adult would communicate with their child, not hit them. My response angered her. I know it's her father. He's my grandfather. What's best is justice. My mother doesn't want to do that. It was better to hide it.

"Bridget, please give her space!" My father said loudly. He pushed me out of my room as gently as he could. His big hands kept her arms at the bag.

A pit in my stomach hurt from the heat of my tears. The screaming of my mother and the dismissive attitude of my father. They're both going in on each other. The tape was thrown to the floor.

You can hear the recording slowly die in sound. She took it all away like a snap of her fingers. My father cradled me with his soothing touch. I don't know how long I sat in the same position until midnight.

Only darkness enveloped my body. The tape is still on the floor. A bundled part of my heart is angry.  She had no right. I was only trying to help her get justice for the murder that happened. This is what I get in return. None of it is fair. Yesterday, I couldn't hold it in any longer. That feeling is back again.

Every second making, guilty after I destroy everything in front of me.

"It's not fair," I kick the tape on the ground. Then I kicked it harder. Small pieces break apart from it. They don't trust me to have anything fragile in my room anymore. Most of the things that were fragile here are gone.

"I hate you," I yell to the quiet cricketing from outside. I hate myself for getting involved in history that had nothing to do with me. Coming back from the thought, I feel my hand tremble in Liam's. He circles back his thumb against mine.

The inside of this hospital is comforting, to say the least. There are tables set up with board games and people walking around. There is a receptionist at the front desk. Seeing so many people happy was weird.

All I've seen around me was bad, but the people here were pleasant. It's a nice change going somewhere here. Liam was not fazed with what he saw.

Well, he has been here before. I'm one to judge somewhere new. I'm here to see his mother after all. The person who birthed him and showed him what's best. It's more nerve-wracking to say she'll be in front of my eyes. I can only hope she sees me as a good person.

Not every day someone greets me nicely. Liam's hand drew small circles on my palm. He's walking us to the desk ahead of us. I stand awkwardly close to him. My eyes search the different normal people. There's nothing wrong or different.  I can tell from the refreshing smell of cleaning supplies that the people are taken care of here.

"Let's go," Liam beckoned me to the front desk lady. Shyly, I stood with a hand that traveled up to his arm. The lady looked up to see him waiting. His face turned to a grin. Liam looks happy to be able to see his mother without feeling regret.

"We are here to see Mrs. Griffin," he said. The lady clicked her nails on the computer behind the smooth marble desk. The lighting is bright compared to the dim sun casting on the flowers outside. I've forgotten the dozens of flowers that look like their water daily. It's a beautiful sight to see.

"Mrs. Griffin is on floor three on your left. Door number 322," she directed her hand to the hallway leading to elevators. Liam nodded with a quiet thank you. I politely smile at the lady who already looked away. The elevator dinger once it open to let out a group of people. They looked sad and with no happiness in their eyes. I wonder what happened. It seems like they received bad news. I follow Liam's lead into the elevator.

The button lights up with the letter three. What if Liam hears the bad news that gives us no conclusion if she knows about my grandfather's murder? I drop my head to my feet. The elevator is oddly quiet us alone. Liam takes the time to turn his head to me. He keeps me in a trance with a goofy smile he makes.

"You're always acting stupid," I say. Liam shrugs.

"Yeah, well, today is a good day." His body drew closer for him to plant a chaste kiss on my cheek. By that time, the elevator had already open. A young girl and her father looked at us with wide eyes. The two people remind me of when my father dropped me at school, so I wouldn't get in a fight with kids who bullied me.

They saw Liam's advance on me. I can feel the heat creeping on my entire neck up to my face. My hand pulls Liam's to march us out of their view quickly.

"What?" he watched me.

"They saw us," I tell him.

"Who cares if they see us. You are too bashful sometimes,"He makes a left turn. There are different doors like apartments. I scan the number plate on each door. One door that ajar catches my interest.

"This one," Liam points to the same door I am looking at. The number is 322. He gives me a flustered look after finally reaching her door.

"You can do it," I press my hand up to his shoulder. He gulps with a firm nod. The door opens to reveal a middle-aged lady looking outside. She slowly turned to cock her head.

"Visitors! Hello there," she pressed her mouth to a big smile. The little gray hair on her head was tucked in a neat ponytail. Her swimming eyes of the brown match Liam's. The color of her hair is the same too. They're so alike that it warms my insides.

"Mom, I've missed you," Liam engulfs her in a huge hug. I stand at the doorway unsure of where to go. His mother signals for me to come in. I closed the door to her room. The window in her room is open. The curtains blow because of it. Her room is not big.

There's space for a couch and cooking necessities. There's also a small bed parted by a wall next to a medium-sized television. Liam's mother hugged him like there was no tomorrow. Somehow, it feels like I was intruding on their moment. Liam's mother confusedly patted his back. That's when he stiffened to pull back.

Nobody had begun to notice me yet. My eyes travel to the colors of the room. There natural. Deafening words fell to my ears. I can not ignore what I heard.

"Do I know you?" She asked, retracting her hand to her sides like she was afraid. The wedding ring on her finger glimmered from the light in the room. Liam shook his head in denial.

"Liam, your son. I'm the brother of West, your other son," he reminds her stalely. Mrs. Liam's eyes perk up at the mention.

"Yes, my kids. They're still so young. Do you know that the other day I got a call from my son that he's graduating soon," she clapped her hands together. Although, her eyes glossed.

"Mom, that was four weeks ago. It was me," he clarifies. Liam runs his hand through his hair. The styled  His mother stopped walk to sit on the couch. I took a seat next to her. She looks towards me.

"Hi, young lady, today they said people were coming to see me. They said family members but none of you look like my family."