"Pia, we need to talk." I groaned, what my mom had just said reminded me of Mr. Simmons after English the other day only this time I couldn't run away from whatever she had to say. Instead, I remained where I was, waiting for her to come around and sit on the opposite side of the table. But instead of sitting at the opposite side, she took the seat right next to me and held my hand gently. For the first time in a long while I realized that whatever she had to say was serious, this was the kind of thing my mom did when she had something important to tell me. Though usually it consisted of bad news and more bad news, so I braced myself for the worst news ever.
"It's about Mr. Simmons. There's no real easy way to tell you this Pia, but Arlo Simmons is your father." The news was like jumping into cold water, it left me feeling numb and sucking in deep breaths suddenly. So many questions were going through my head all at the same time, the one feeling that surfaced and stayed there though was anger.
Anger at my mom, at my life... even at Mr. Simmons. Was that what he had wanted to tell me the other day after class? That the labelled pedophile was my father? Even though I had a pretty quiet life in the past few months I still could not fathom why my peace had to be shattered by this news and why now? It wasn't like I was going anywhere any time soon, it wasn't like my mom was sick and dying. Why now?
"Pia, breathe, honey. Just breathe a little, in through your mouth and out through your nose." I gave my mom a look that must have frightened her because she stopped talking and began biting her lip. She only ever did that when she was afraid or nervous, deep down I felt guilt at having caused that, but it was far out-shadowed by the anger that coursed through me.
"Why? Why now...why him? Why couldn't you tell me before high school? Do you know what the kids at school call him? Do you!" This was the first time I had ever raised my voice at my mom and I instantly regretted it when I saw her flinch and pull away from me. At her reaction all the anger flooded out of me and instead I was left feeling drained and depressed, what now? Leaning my head against the table top I began to do the only thing I knew how to do in this situation, I cried.
Despite what and how I had just spoken to my mom, I felt her arms wrap around me tightly and we both sat at the kitchen table crying.
I was almost sixteen and wishing for the first time ever that I hadn't said what I did and hoped beyond hope that my mom would forgive me.
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-shrug- what'd you all think?
I'm not too sure about this chapter to be honest.
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