The Charade
Our parents sat and listened to what we had to say for thirty minutes straight.
We explained the death certificates and the newspaper article we found online also.
As I was about to finish my story, my mom interupted, "see Johnny, this is what Harry meant! She *is* trouble!"
Shocked, I looked back at Harry. He was heated. About ready to go off on my mom. I signaled him to wait.
"Madeline, calm down!" My dad yelled.
My mom furiously sprang up from her chair. "You ruined everything!" She screamed in my face. "You bitch!" She smacked me across the face, leaving a huge red mark behind.
Harry's anger exploded and he ran over to my mom, grabbing her and pinning her against the wall, "damn you!" He screamed.
My dad rose quickly out of his seat and sprinted over to Harry, on top of my mom. He secured his arm around Harry's neck and yanked him back, "get your hands off of your mother!"
Harry's grip loosened on my mom and he fell backwards onto the ground, on top of my dad.
My dad shoved him off and stood up. Once he was steady on his feet, he kicked Harry in the gut.
Harry winced, curling up in a ball gripping his stomach in pain.
That's when I got involved.
Once I ran up to my dad, he turned around and I gave him a nice punch right in the nose. "Don't touch him, you bastard!" I continued smacking him in the chest, screaming and crying out random swear words.
My mom ran over to me and pushed me away from my dad, "you get the hell out of here!"
"Not until you tell me the truth!" I screamed, tears streaming down my face. The tears felt like melting beads dripping down my cheeks.
"What truth?!" My mom's face was red, and it wasn't from Harry smacking her.
"Why are we all 'dead'?" I could feel my throat burning, my voice was fading away slowly.
Two minutes of silence.
My mom and dad exchanged serious looks.
"We should've told you guys this sooner. . ." My mom took a seat.
My dad grabbed Harry's hand and held onto him tightly, "yeah, the last thing we wanted is for you guys to find out alone."
We all took a seat around the table. Each one of us, fighting the pain. Leaving what just happened behind us.
I've never seen so much violence in a family before. It hurt.
Harry and I sat next to each other, holding hands under the table. Our fingers interlocked.
A long breath escaped from my mom's mouth, "Skylar, we didn't really adopt you."
Harry's brow furrowed. His grip on my hand got tighter.
"What do you mean?" I bit my lip, nervously.
My dad grabbed my mom's hand and held it close to his chest, "we kidnapped you. . ."
