Page 94 of Scarred King

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Page 94 of Scarred King

“I’ve been through some changes recently,” I say dryly, “and had to deal with some demons from the past.”

“I’m glad,” she smiles at me sadly. “I thought it would never happen. You have such beautiful hair.”

“Mom,” I muster the courage to confront her, “I need you to know that I’m still angry with you.” I curl my hands into fists. “Very angry, actually.”

“I know.” I'm not prepared for her answer. “I know that you're angry with me.” She sits down across from me and touches the tiny wrinkles around her eyes. “We should have talked about it years ago.”

“All these years you’ve made me feel like it was my fault!” I erupt at her as the vault in my stomach which guarded all my repressed emotions explodes. “I knew that that man was doing something wrong to me and I had the courage to come and tell you. I expected you to protect me, to hug me, to encourage me, to make sure that scumbag spends the rest of his life in jail. But you were ashamed of me and told me not to tell anyone. You even blamed my hair.” I feel like I’m choking but I can’t stop talking. “You were the reason I grew up thinking that it was my fault, because I bragged about my pretty hair. I’ve only recently understood that it had nothing to do with me.” I burst into tears, and she looks at me in distress.

“Is that what you thought?” she yells, stands up, her entire body shaking. “You thought that I was ashamed of you? You thought that I blamed you? You thought that I hid it all to avoid embarrassment?”

“Yes,” I stand up before her with blazing eyes.

“Then you do not know your mother!” She bangs on the table.

“Then make me understand who she is!” I bang the table as well. “Because right now I neither respect nor love the one I know.”

“Sit down,” she orders and pours two glasses of water. I remain standing. “Sit!” she raises her voice, places the glasses on the table and sits down.

I try to control my shaking body and sit down on the edge of a chair.

“When you told me, my whole world came crashing down,” she says, trying to steady her trembling voice. “I didn’t know how to deal with such a terrible thing, so I did the first thing that came into my head. I hid your beauty.” She takes a sip of water from the glass in her shaking hand. “But that wasn’t the end of it. I waited until you fell asleep and went down to the kitchen, took a knife from the drawer and went to their house. He and his wife were sitting in the living room. I told him I had a little problem and that I would like to talk to him privately. He came out to the yard with me and walked so naturally with me into his garage. When I saw that chair you told me about, the one he sat on when he did what he did, I lost my mind. I pushed him down on the chair and shoved the knife into his stomach. I twisted it and laughed hysterically.”

I open my eyes wide in astonishment, and she continues as if she has been waiting to unload her burden all these years. “His wife came out when she heard him screaming. She shouted she was calling the police, and I explained quietly to her what he had done. Suddenly I felt very calm, and while he was squirming on the floor, I told her that she had two options. One was to take him to a hospital, say that it was an accident and then leave town for good. The other was to press charges, and I would go to jail, but I would make sure that pictures of him, her, and their daughters would be hung on every tree in town with all the details of what her husband had done.” She smiles to herself and I can’t breathe. “She made the right choice.”

“I thought they moved because he got a new job,” I murmur.

“Well, not exactly.” She is still smiling to herself. “And then I told your father everything. He said that if we made a big deal out of it, we would ruin your life. That everyone would always look and point at you. He thought we should make you forget it.”

“You don’t forget something like that,” I say sadly.

“I should not have listened to him.” She shakes her head from side to side in disappointment. “I should have sent you to therapy or at least talk to you about it, but I was so upset by what it made me do, I decided to listen to your father, and that's when I started losing you” she sighs regretfully, and I look at her and realize that she actually is a lioness.

“It seems we both like knives,” I mutter and smile at her. She squints in confusion and I stand up and gesture her to rise. When she is standing, I put my arms around her and hug her tight. “You didn’t lose me,” I hold on to her body. “I’m here and we’ll fight for our freedom together.”

“Maybe I needed to go through all of this to get you back.” She kisses me on the head and goes back to preparing lunch. “Now I can come to terms with it. And strangely, now that you are here with me, I am not afraid. I understand that I can deal with this calmly.” I help her set the table and we eat quietly, each of us deep in her own thoughts.

Evening comes and we watch a movie together on the old television. We are huddled together under a blanket, sharing a large container of ice cream. We go upstairs to the bedroom to sleep and when I toss and turn, she sings me a French children’s song. I want to tell her that she’s being ridiculous, that I’m a big girl that you can’t really turn back time, but my eyes close and I feel safe and protected.

36

My mother is getting ready in front of the mirror and I watch her affectionately. She’s come back to me.

“Come on,” she urges me to get out of bed. “If you have nothing to do, you can clean the house.

“Okay,” I reply and jump out of bed. The terrible day has arrived, but I won’t be paralyzed by fear. We’re together and we’re stronger than ever.

“When are they supposed to come?” I ask from the bathroom.

“They said I have until midnight,” she answers calmly.

“Midnight,” I mutter to myself in disgust. I’ve turned into the Cinderella from hell. All the damn events happen at midnight.

“I'll be back at noon,” she calls, and I hear the front door close. I make myself a cup of coffee and two slices of toast. I don’t really have an appetite, but I’m not in the mood for my mother’s lectures and I know that this will be a long day. I turn on my cellphone and hear the continuous beeps telling me that I have new messages. I go through the messages from the last twenty-four hours – they are all from Liam:

Elena, where are you?

Call me.




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