Going Up - Now On Amazon

Chapter Three

“No, I didn’t read your medical records Sarah” He replied, his voice cold and crisp. His eyes narrowed considerably and now I wasn’t sure how he thought he knew anything.

“I’m sorry” I mumbled

“Don’t be sorry, Sarah. I didn’t mean to frighten you. Your school records, which I did attain, peaked my interest. A clever girl, with one of the highest GPA’s left school on her 18th birthday, without attending graduation. It was noted on your file that you were a quiet student, one who knuckles down. No extracurricular activities however, and in 10th grade you missed an entire month of school.”

I shifted my feet around the floor and moved backwards a little toward the door. I wanted to escape, I wasn’t comfortable with anyone knowing my traumatic past, when all I wanted to do was leave it behind.

“I’m not sure what you think that tells you Mr Jackson? Perhaps that I’m unmotivated, which begs the question of why you’d hire me” I spat out without thinking.

“Miss Jenkins, it tells me that I needed to know more. Your records reminded me of my own at the same age.”

“Right, so this whole ‘you remind me of me’ thing is because you think you know me, because you don’t.” He had no idea who I was, or what I had been through, as much as he liked to think he did.

Nick stood up again and walked over to the filing cabinet. He opened it and pulled out a file.

“Read this” He said chucking the file on his desk. Reluctantly I walked back to the desk and sat down on the cushy chair. My fingers grasped at the file, It was emblazoned with my name.

“I don’t usually give my employees records to them to peruse. I research my potential employees to save my own arse Sarah. I worked incredibly hard to get where I am and its important the people I employ meet my expectations.”

I opened the file and immediately saw my application form, my high school records. What surprised me in the file was something I hadn’t expected. Something that shocked me to my core.

“You got hold of the crime report from my mothers death?” I replied confused. I’d not seen the report myself, and I looked away from the file, almost afraid to delve back in to that memory, when I'd already let myself think about my past far to much today.

“I have friends in high places. Read the report Sarah.”

“I don’t think I can” I replied the ever persistent knot returned to my throat, only this time I couldn’t swallow it back down. I looked back down at the file none the less, and gazed over the words.

I felt sick reading about that night. I’d been far too young to remember such intricate details. Everything I read, was what my father had said had happened. What surprised me was the fact in the report the cops suspected my father, but through lack of evidence were forced to close the case.

“They suspected he was involved” I mumbled, something in my head clicked and I was transported back to that night through my memories.

My seven year old self had been playing with my dolls one evening after dinner, dressing them and feeding them.

“Mommy!!” I called loudly, usually she’d reply with her beautiful silky voice and walk in. She loved me more than anything else and I knew it. This time the air was silent and she didn’t reply. I’d put my dolls down, certain she must be playing hide and go seek like we did sometimes. I hunted around the house, before I heard muffled noises in the bathroom. I peeked through the door handle and saw my mother on the ground. She looked as though she were sleeping, and I pushed open the door to give her a snuggly hug, like we did sometimes when we slept, or took naps.