Letters From Mom

CHAPTER NINETEEN

        NINETEEN: BOTTLED UP

I sat in the car waiting for Clifford, while crying my eyes out. I didn't even have the guts to read the letter. I actually thought that I could really do this but who am I kidding? I am wrong, so wrong and I don't think I will be able to get past this.

I sat still, tears still streaming down my face still waiting for Clifford.

What was taking him so long?

After five minutes, Clifford finally entered the car. Sitting there in absolute silence, he only spared glances at me.

No one said a word. No one needed to. Clifford stared straight ahead before starting the engine and driving off.

I was really stunned to say. I guess after that overly dramatic scene I displayed, I expected questions pouring out of him.

The whole ride was silent, only sound was a talk show from the radio. I was about to get down from the car when we pulled up at my house but Clifford stops me.

"What's up, Dee?" He asked.

I glanced over to him, little bit of confusion passed through me, "what?"

"Why did you act that way? You can not just run out like that." He said.

"You don't understand Clifford." I shake my head.

No one will, I wanted to add but held my tongue.

I reach for the door again but Clifford's hands around my wrist stops me, " I'm not finished Debby." He said with all seriousness. That alone made me stop any actions I was going to carry out just now. "Explain to me." He demands.

"I couldn't handle it. It just brought back way too many memories for my liking. The bad and good mixed together, but the bad dominated." I pause. " I really thought I could do it."

"What memories?" He asks.

I tried to shun out the past and leave it behind me but now Clifford was here pushing me to open that door again. He would find out eventually, why not get it over with, right?

I guess what my father told me was true, you can't turn away the past. It will always be there for the past makes your present and your future.

"There is something you don't exactly know about me." I paused, getting my words together before speaking again. "When I was younger before my parents get divorced, my father did some terrible things to my mother. This of course was towards the time their marriage started to fall apart. He abused her.

"He came home late from work everyday grumpy and moody. Always mad at my mother for no absolute reason. It got out of control, he rejected her food, beat her up and blamed her for every misfortune that they had, especially for the death of my younger brother, Jake. Jake died from a rare disease he was born with. He was just four when he died, up till today, I still don't know what illness he had, my mind wasn't there when the doctor was explaining what happened to him and my mother never brought it up again after that. My father blamed my mother saying she didn't look after him well, and she was the one that passed the disease to him. He even accused her of adultery when it was his sin.  It became really bad after the death of Jake that my father even...... He even...... He raped my mother...... In front of me. At first he didn't notice me there but even when he did, he didn't stop.

My mother and I suffered a lot. She tried her possible best to protect me from him and his evil act.

At night,  he sneaked into my room to tell me how awful my mother was and he will tell me how he was going to save me from her but I was not gullible. I knew the truth. It even got to the point he tried to murder my mother in her sleep. He later confessed it at his trial and was sentenced to four years imprisonment. Of course he never confessed the other things he did to her but I swore on my mother's grave that I will never set my eyes on him again. I will kill him with my own bare hands and make sure he rots in jail where he belongs. That's why I hate my father so much and back there at the lockers just brought me back to those times. So there, you know the truth." Now I was soaked in tears and I wiped the tears that continued to fall.

Clifford was silent. He was in shock, I could tell from his expression. I remain silent, giving him time to process it.

Okay so I know what you are thinking, it's quite similar to my previous book. And you are wondering why I am writing things like this but it is just my way writing. Nothing too personal though.

Tell me what you think in comments. Thanks so much to those of you that voted on this story. Ilysm.

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