Chapter 10 Restricted #2
Derrick looked at me before casting his stare on my mother.
It felt like he was saying something I couldn’t hear.
My heart pounded against my chest as I glanced between them.
Derrick was impossible to read, but my mom wasn’t.
She was like an open book with an oversized font, and I knew they were keeping something from me.
“Someone tell me what’s going on?” I shouted. “Did you two fuck and regret it or something?”
My mom’s face flushed.
“That’s it, isn’t it?” I asked, my tone sharp enough to cut steel.
“No,” Derrick said, firmly, his tone stern with disapproval.
His voice expressed such dissonance that even the smoke from the burning candle stilled from the stifling tension.
“I’ve been busy, Anna,” he said.
I glowered at him, ready to punch him again.
“You’re always busy,” I said. “It never stopped you before. What was it? Why did you stop coming?”
Mom shifted, crossing her arms, then uncrossing them as she looked away.
“Anna,” she whispered. “There’s a lot that I haven’t told you.”
I held my breath. Was this it? Was she finally going to tell me the truth about my dad?
Was it Derrick?
“I cared for Derrick, you’re correct,” she said, “but it wasn’t meant to be.”
I stared at her, waiting for more, my skin crawling. Why was she like this? My fingers were flexing with frustration, and I wanted to strangle her for holding so much in.
“Then he isn’t my dad?” I asked, my voice wavering.
She stared at me.
“Anna, you know that your father’s gone,” she said.
“Yeah, I know,” I said. “Except, if he were dead, why do you still live in such fear? Why am I training like I’m going to war? Why can’t you talk to me about him, after all this time? Who could make you so afraid that you would choose for me to hate you rather than tell me the truth?”
My mom hung her head, tears running down her cheeks.
“Derrick,” she said, her voice oddly steady. “I think you should go.”
Derrick didn’t move. “Adelyna.”
“Go.”
Derrick leaned forward, as if he was going to go to her, but in the end, his eyes lowered, and he surrendered to my mom’s will. His gaze shifted to the sheathed sword in my hand.
“Next time I see you, you will complete your training,” he said, his voice firm and low.
I stared as he turned, his long, dark coat whipping behind him, extinguishing the candle’s flame as he vanished.
I tightened my fists, my fingernails digging into my skin.
“I’ve accepted that this is how our life is.
That you’ll stay here on this lonely mountain until the day you die.
I’ve accepted I’ll never know who my dad was, and I’ll never know any of my other family because of your self-centered righteousness.
But what I don’t accept is you bringing someone into my life, someone that understands me, and then ripping them away from me because of your bullshit! ” I shouted and finally looked at her.
Tears stained her porcelain skin; her eyes were the palest blue I’d ever seen.
“You’re right, Anna,” she said, her voice soft. “I know I haven’t been the best mother, and you’ve not been happy. But this is the life that I can give you, and I’ll do anything to protect you—even if you hate me.”
I shook my head, her words twisting like frozen barbed wire around my heart.
“How can a living death be something you want for your child?” I said, struggling to get through the words amidst the pain in my head and chest. “Even going to a movie, like everyone my age, is too much for you. It’s like I’m not even alive when I’m here with you.”
She jerked as if I’d slapped her. She avoided my gaze and finally closed her eyes.
“You’re right,” she muttered. “Of course, you’re right. I don’t wish that for you, nor anyone.”
“Then why?” I asked. “Why not tell me the truth? Why are we here like this, Mom? Why won’t you tell me anything about my dad?”
She touched her forehead as if in pain and cried out softly under her breath.
Not moving, she spoke, but softly. “Derrick cannot be your father, but I think you know that, deep down. Regardless, you can trust him, Anna. Remember that,” she said, her hand falling to her side.
She looked at me with a haggard expression, pain etched in lines I’d never noticed around her eyes before.
“You seem to understand these things far more naturally than I ever did. To need a bond with someone, to feel loved; I never had any idea what that was until I was an adult. But it wasn’t until you were born that I truly understood unconditional love.
The spirit must be maintained as much as the body, and I’ve failed you in that way. Forgive me, Anna,” she said.
Silence filled the space like fog.
It was deafening.
“I won’t forgive you unless you tell me the truth,” I said, my voice quivering with rage.
“I can’t tell you about him, because you’d seek him out,” she whispered, as if she were scared to say it aloud.
“Seek him out?” I asked. “What are you saying?”
She looked at me, her expression twisted in anguish. “I told you he’s dead because you must never go to him, Anna. Never.”
My knees hit the floor, and I sank into a seated position. Everything was numb.
He was alive. My dad was alive.
“Tell me who he is,” I demanded, my voice quiet and barely recognizable as my own.
“No,” she said.
Resentment. Anguish. Pain. I wanted the truth. Why wouldn’t she tell me? I didn’t know what emotion to let out first, so they all came at once—as fury.
My skin burned, and my hands shook. A blinding pain flashed through my forehead. I winced as my vision blurred, cradling my forehead in my hand.
“Anna?” my mom called sharply.
A ripping flash as cold as ice tore across my skull.
Falling.
Everything was cold. I couldn’t see anymore. What was this place?
Crack.
A voice, hollow, hoarse; I couldn’t understand it.
Panic. Breathe. Snap. Sickening. Lost. Breathe. Breathe. Breathe.
brEATHE.
Wrong. Cold. Dark. Stiff.
…and into darkness.