NINETEEN
With the delicate golden key in my hand, I strode over to the wardrobe and pushed the clothes to the side once again to reveal the small box that had taken over my mind. Would anything be in here? Is it the letters that Ethan and I exchanged? I doubt that they were the letters as he would not go to all that effort to hide them away – but this did not stop my interest in the box. The box was small and made of a dark wood; it looked like an antique and probably had a high value. On the top of the box was a very intricate carving of many spirals and flowers – it looked as if it came straight out of a Disney princess movie. There was no doubt that it belonged to my mother at some point within her life.
I inserted the key and twisted it, closing my eyes in anticipation but I opened them once again when I heard a small click that signalled its opening. Slowly lifting up the lid with both hands I was both in awe and in shock at what was in the box.
The box was filled with pictures of my mother on her own or of the three of us together; there were also old theatre tickets, restaurant receipts and other items that must be souvenirs from the dates my mother and father went on together. Also in the box was jewellery that I remember my mother wearing all the time when I was younger. This box was completely filled with memories of the time my mother was in our lives. Why had my father kept all of these in a box? Did he ever look inside this box within the past eleven years?
I heard noises outside the house and hurriedly shut the box, securely locking it and placing it back. I positioned all of the clothes back to how they were and shut the doors before planting the key back into the picture frame, turning it upside-down once again – I didn't want anything to look out of place. I exited the room, shutting the door gently behind me.
* * * * *
"What about this one?" Seb asked, pointing to a picture on his smartphone as I shook my head in amusement.
Sebastian was attempting to persuade me to dress up and look fancy/smart/beautiful (as he said this he panicked and rambled on about how beautiful I already was and how I didn't need makeup or to dress up to look beautiful) for when Ethan came home. He had written a list of things that I needed and a plan for the day – according to him, I should dress up and wait at their house while they picked him up. However, I knew that Ethan was expecting me to meet him at the airport, too. We had joked about going overboard with huge signs and getting to do the cliché running up to each other as we hug... In all honesty, however, I do not think I will be able to go. My father is almost always home now, just like he used to be, and I cannot let him know that I have friends as he would hurt both me and them. My father believes that if I am close to people, then I will confess to them about what happens at home; this is the reason I have not been able to make friends since my mother's death. Also, I know that Ethan will be disappointed if we finally meet. He has an image of a perfect girl that he wants and needs – a girl that is not me.
"I appreciate the suggestion Seb, but I don't want to meet him that way." I admitted, looking down at my hands that were resting on my lap, afraid that I had hurt his feelings.
"No, no. Don't feel bad as it's up to you, after all." He assured me, placing his hand over my own to calm me down.
"Thank you." I smiled back at him before suggesting my own ideas about meeting Ethan at the airport – it may not happen but if it did I wanted to be ready and surprise Ethan. For the rest of our lunch period, we jotted down ideas of what to make and do for Ethan when he finally comes home. And for Logan, of course – you can't forget about Logan.
When my last class of the day, English, was finished I was about to walk out of the door when Mrs Greene called me back into the classroom. I hadn't spoken to her other than when raising my hand in class, but I knew that she has been worrying about me a lot in the past few weeks.
"Are you all right now?" She asked kindly, leaning against her desk that was situated in the front of the classroom.
"I think so," I stated but my words came out harsher than I had intended so I added, "Thank you."
"That's alright, darling. I hope you know that I am here for you no matter what." Her gentle and kind words causing my eyes to start tearing up; I hugged her tightly and she returned it. I was so thankful to have someone like Mrs Greene in my life – she was so caring and selfless and I don't know what I would do without her.
I pulled away from her and wiped my eyes where tears were threatening to fall. I whispered another thank you before giving her a large smile and jogging out of the school building – I had to get home before my father got angry.
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The instant that I shut the front door of my house behind me my father walked out of the living room and towards where I was standing. I did not look into his eyes, as usual, but looked at his attire – he was wearing a new, ironed black tux and black dress shoes and he even shaved his usual stubble off of his face. Why was he so dressed up?
"Here she is!" He yelled, "She finally decided to show herself!"
"I'm sorry, father," I mumbled, "I had to stay behind."
"For what reason?" he growled out, crossing his arms and tapping his foot repeatedly on the wooden floor.
"I was getting some more homework for extra credit." I lied.
"Whatever. Go get dressed in something nice." His words caused me to frown – where are we going?
"May I ask why, sir?" I asked timidly, afraid that I had spoken too much.
"We're going to meet some important people for dinner," he informed me, "So I'm expecting you should act... normal, for once."
"Yes sir." I said, my voice wavering in fear as I saw the anger in his eyes that he was trying to conceal.
I rushed up the stairs, taking two at a time, before entering my bedroom. I had to find something to wear so I did not 'embarrass' my father. I don't have many clothes in my wardrobe as I never had any places to go out and no reason to dress up and all the clothes that I do have are all tattered and would not be acceptable. What was my father expecting me to wear? I had so little time to decide and it's not exactly like he would allow me to go shopping right now –my father never allows me to spend money on clothes or things for school as it is 'not a necessity' and he shouldn't 'waste money on such a waste of space.' Yes, those were always his exact words. I knew never to ask for anything after the first few years of abuse.
I searched through my small wardrobe, pushing each piece of clothing to the side in distaste. I had nothing. That was when I saw the perfect dress in the back of my wardrobe – the dress I found on my 18th birthday.
*Flashback*
I limped into my bedroom to tend to my injuries from another beating from my father and went over to my wardrobe where I usually kept my first aid kit on a large shelf at the top. However, my bruised body would not allow me to jump up to reach for it; I found a strong and stable box instead and slowly pushed it over to the front of my wardrobe so that I could use it as a stool. Looking at the shelf, I was surprised at how many other items were there – I would never usually look as I was too short to see the entire shelf and I would normally only reach up to grab the first aid kit. On the shelf was many items that I completely forgot putting there; I must have placed them there many years ago.
I moved the objects around with my hand, trying to avoid the many spider webs that had appeared over time, as I looked at the items in awe. I pulled out old dolls, jewellery boxes and teddy bears that I had when I was much younger – when my mother was alive. I was never aware that I still had these memories of her. At the very back of the wardrobe were two boxes so I placed all of the dolls back carefully and pulled out the two boxes and laid them on my bed. The first box was a shoe box and was a lot smaller than the other. When I opened it I discovered multiple pictures of my childhood – pictures of our family 'fun days' that we had every Saturday when neither my mother nor my father had to go to work, pictures of my previous birthdays, family outings at the park and other places. I could not remember all of these days as I was very young and, due to my father's abuse, I have slight amnesia of parts of my past. I was saddened by the sight of my mother; she was so beautiful and I always loved her smile. Why was she taken away from us? We used to be so happy.
I put the pictures back into the shoe box and set it back on the shelf at the top of my wardrobe before turning my attention to the other box. It was red and rectangular and appeared to be some kind of gift box but there was no writing on the box as far as I could tell; I have no idea how old this box is, though, so it may have rubbed off. I opened the box to find a piece of paper, filled with neat writing,
'My dearest Chel,'
I stopped reading as I saw that nickname – my mother always called me Chel, pronounced Shell, as we would often go to the beach and I loved pretending that I was a mermaid due to Ariel being my favourite Disney princess.
'I have always been one of those overprotective mothers that spoil their children far too much and your father always tries to stop me from buying too many things for you – 'tries' being the key word, as I know that he loves me too much to be stern and stop me from spoiling you.
It will be your 7th birthday soon and I cannot believe how fast you have grown up... It was only yesterday that we were in the hospital and I held you in my arms for the first time. I'm crying already, oh dear...
I know that you are only turning 7 and this is why I have hidden this in the back of your wardrobe – I hope you do not find this until you are 18... I cannot wait to see your face as you open this gift. (You better not open this without calling me into your room first!) That's if I'm still with you at that point... I will always be there in your heart and I will be up in the sky watching over you even when I am gone in the far, far future. Also, don't tell your father that I bought you this as he does not know yet... oops!
I love you so much, my darling.
Happy 18th birthday! Try not to grow up too much, my little princess.
Lots of love and fairy dust,
Mummy <3'
I let everything go after reading that letter; tears were streaming endlessly down my cheeks. My mother should be here right now. She shouldn't have left this world.
I wiped away my tears, opening the box to find a perfectly folded red dress. I pulled out the deep red coloured dress to reveal its true glory and held it up against my body, looking into the mirror. It appeared to be made of a smooth satin and it looked very elegant. It was beautiful.
* * * * *
I was itching to try the beautiful dress on. I could not describe the dress very well due to its pure shocking beauty but if I could choose any word, it would be perfect. No other words were needed. The dress was faultless. I undressed and cautiously stepped into the dress, pulling it up over my skinny body. The smooth fabric flowed gracefully and the red contrasted against my pale skin. The lustrous fabric glinted and light reflected off of it, causing sheen. The gown draped down my body stopping just past my ankles and it was strapless, revealing my collarbones and the small anchor tattoo that was in honour of Ethan. The dress fit perfectly and complimented my figure – how did my mother know this would fit?
I applied concealer over any bruises that still had not faded and also to cover my tattoo – I did not want my father to see it. Concealer was the only makeup I owned so I did not need to apply anything else but I brushed through my straight hair, allowing it to flow down my back. I pushed a small section of my hair over my shoulder, in case the concealer did not do a good enough job of hiding my tattoo, and slipped on a pair of black flats before rushing back down the stairs to meet with my father who appeared to be getting angrier by the second.
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Aw, her mother seems to be in this chapter a lot:( Who do you think these 'important people' are that they're meeting for dinner? Only a few more chapters until Ethan and Rachel finally meet!
Thank you all so much for reading! It makes me so happy when I sign in and see inboxes, comments and even just more reads or votes! I know I say this in basically every author's note at the end of chapters but I can't thank you all enough... I am so grateful and thankful for every single read that this story is getting! <3