Chasing the Storm (Chasing the Storm, #1) - PUBLISHED

Chapter Fourteen

“Baby… I’m going away for a while… I want you to know that I love you, okay? You know that, don’t you, sweetheart?”

I sit up a little straighter in my bed, frowning at the sad look on her face. “But Mommy,” I say quietly, “why do you leave me a lot? I want to go with you. Can I please go with you?”

Even though she smiles at me, I can still tell that she’s sad. Her eyes haven’t shown happiness in a long time. Daddy always says it’s my fault that my mommy isn’t happy anymore. Daddy also tells me that I make him really mad, and that he’s mad at Mommy for making me born. I try not to be hurt by his words, but sometimes they make me really sad.

“Sweetheart, please don’t doubt my love, but…” Sighing, she tilts her head and looks like she’s thinking hard. She has told me so many times that I can guess what she is about to say. “Well, it’s a grown up matter, you see.”

“What does ‘matter’ mean?” I ask.

“It means don’t worry, baby.” She comes closer and kisses my forehead. “All right, close your eyes. I have a surprise for you.” I close my eyes quickly and tightly. What could it be? “Hold out your hands,” she adds. I obey right away. She would never hurt me, I know, because she knows what it’s like, too.

My eyes still closed as I wait for the surprise, I ask, “Why is Daddy so mad all the time?” Something really soft and fluffy touches my hands.

“You can look now, love,” she says quietly. I suddenly wonder if I said something wrong because she sounds sad now. When I open my eyes again, I see tears in hers. She looks down like she’s trying to hide them from me, but then they start to fall down her cheeks. Then I feel sad, too. I don’t like it when she cries, but not because it makes me mad like Daddy.

First, I put the teddy bear down next to me. Then I get up on my knees and wrap my arms around her, burying my face in her neck. Now I feel the tears. “Please don’t cry, Mommy,” I say. This only seems to make it worst because she’s crying harder now. “It will be better soon. Jesus is here. Will you pray with me, please?” Praying always seems to make her feel better. It makes me feel better, too.

“Of course, love,” she says between sobs. I let go of her and sit back against the headboard. Then she begins to pray.

Before she reaches “Amen,” I say, “Wait! Wait. My turn.” She nods, then pauses, letting me speak. I close my eyes and bow my head again, and she does, too. “Dear God, thank you for loving us. Thank you for a mommy that loves me. Please make her feel better and not get sad when Daddy says mean things. Please help Daddy to be patient with me, and please help me to be better and not make people mad. I don’t mean to, I promise. God, if it’s–”

“Chase…” she says. When I open one eye, I see that she looks a lot sadder now. Did I do that? “Baby, it’s not you…”

“But Daddy says–”

“Your father…” She sighs again. “Chase, your father doesn’t…” Biting her lip, she reaches for me, then pulls me onto her lap and hugs me from behind. Then I feel her gently running her fingers through my hair. “Do you like your new bear?”

I nod. “Yes, thank you. He’s my favorite.” I know she doesn’t want to talk about sad things anymore.

“Oh, really? Why?”

“Because you gave him to me.”

She is quiet for a moment, but then says, “That’s very sweet, Chase. Do you have a name for him?”

“Anna!” says a loud, booming voice. My eyes widen. “Why are you wasting your time with that thing?! I said I need you out here now, woman!”

I bend forward and turn my head to look at Mommy’s face. Her eyes are closed, and I think she’s holding her breath. I am, too.

When I awaken, I can’t explain this strange sense of foreboding, not even to myself. But then my dream returns to me and I understand… and yet I don’t.

“I just don’t get it…” I whisper, looking around my room. I find myself in total darkness. Mom must have turned the light back off when she came to check on me, most likely wondering why I request to sleep with it on through the night and into the morning. It just makes me feel alone, I suppose, and afraid. It reminds me of the constant nightmares and of the things and people in them. They remind me of darkness.

Except for this last dream… The woman in it was nice. She was sweet, and seemed to really love me – er, this boy… Chase? This coincidence is irritating. Why am I dreaming of a boy named Chase? Chase isn’t the only boy I know, so why him? Why would my mind choose to torture me with his name? This only adds to the list of ‘People and Things’ that I will never understand…

Like Chase, also known as “the Beast”… and now “the storm.”