I thought about how much different my life could have been had I been born to a different set of parents. Would I have had the world at my fingertips? Would I have had so much love it would suffocate me?
Instead, I was handed a life I detested with every breath I took. I wasn’t loved or doted on. I wasn’t hugged. The one person who made life even a little worth living was gone. She’d never tell me that I’d look back at this horrible time and see how strong I’d ended up. She’d never once again tell me that she had a plan to help me get away on my eighteenth birthday.
“You okay there, child?” someone asked as they took a stand a foot away from me. I jumped, letting out a small yelp in surprise.
“Fine,” I muttered, wiping away the tears.
“Tell me what has you so upset. Such a pretty girl shouldn’t be crying.” His Italian accent struck a memory I couldn’t quite place. I glanced over at him from the corner of my eye. He was definitely an older man—probably a grandpa, by the looks of it. His bald head was shiny, his mustache filled with gray. What made me pause were the lines of hard work on his face and his penetrating eyes.
“It’s nothing,” I sniffed, my voice small.
“Tell me, child. Talking always helps.” I highly doubted that.
“My aunt died last week,” I said. My chin wobbled as a fresh set of tears threatened to consume me. “She was like a mother to me.”
“I’m sorry to hear that,” the man said, his eyes full of sympathy. “Losing a family member is never easy. I’ve lost many myself.” I gave him a small smile, hoping he’d get the hint and leave me b.
“You know, I’ve seen you here before. Always about this time,” he mused, taking a seat on the bench beside my bag on the bench. “Why is that?”
“No one bothers me here,” I shrugged. “It’s quiet.”
“Tell me about your aunt.”
“Why?” I asked, looking out over the lake. The trees swayed in the light breeze and a few people were on the other side, fishing, while a dog sniffed at the water’s edge.
It really was peaceful here.
“You miss her,” he said. “Tell me what she was like.”
“She’s not an aunt by blood,” I started. “She was a friend of my father’s. She was there for…a lot of things. And now she won’t be anymore. She…Lisa was like my mother. Always looking out for, and protecting, me when I needed it the most. But also the one to get me out of my head when I was younger.”
“You’re a daydreamer, aren’t ya?”
“I wish,” I snorted. “I tend to overthink things, I guess. I just try to think of anything I can do to make everything just a little bit better, if only for a few minutes.”
I could feel his eyes on me. How much did he see?
“What about your parents?” he asked.
“What about them?” The way he was prodding me about my life was starting to get a bit unnerving. That warning that had been drilled into me bloomed like a flower.
“Wouldn’t they be able to give you comfort in your time of need?”
“I have no clue who my mom is, and my father…well…he’s my father,” I said, giving him a simple answer.
Figuring it was time to leave, I picked up my bag from beside him. “I’d better head back.”
“Stay safe, child.”
Safe. What did that even mean these days?
Rushing into the house at full speed, I didn’t stop to notice that there was company. I almost collided with my father as he stood slightly in the doorway. He put his hands on my shoulders, giving me a look that said I’d better behave. My heart pounded in my chest as terror seized me. I hated having to pretend that we were happy.
“Glad you’re home,” he said, his voice laced with hate. “Go put away your bag and come greet our guest.”
“Yes, sir,” I said, feeling his hands squeeze tightly, likely bruising.
“And go wash your face. Can’t let our guest see you so upset over school.” With that, he let me go and I hurriedly walked up the stairs to put away my bag next to my bed. My hands shook as I washed my face with cold water in the bathroom.
