We Really Need To Stop // ImAllexx

First Time

"Mum – how could you lie to me?! All my life!"

Clutching the letter right behind my back, as if she'd tear it away from me at any moment, my voice dripped with a taste so bitter it cut through the air like a razor blade. The dingy lighting and smell of cottage pie sitting uneaten on the table swirled around me, nauseating and weighing me down in my prison-from-home. Home sweet fucking home.

"He didn't want anything to do with you sweetheart, or me. I thought this would hurt less, be easier," Mum sighed and put a hand on my Internet Sensation hoodie shoulder, I shook her off with my eyes closed.

"No! You lied to me. I want to meet him."

"Callie, I know it's sad, but he told me he doesn't want anything to do with either of us. Would you want to disrespect that?" Almost the same green eyes as mine looked up to the darker green ceiling, framed by her dyed blonde bob. With its chipping paint and plaster crumbling in the corners, this ceiling looked as tired as me with being stuck here. Then those eyes came back to me, wavering with worry - like pond surfaces rippling under a heavy breeze.

"Yeah! But when was that? 18 years ago?! Maybe he changed his mind now?!"

"I doubt it, Callie. He had the chance to reach out to us all these years and has chosen not to. I think we should respect that. Please don't do something reckless now. Let's talk about this in family therapy next week," Mum snapped and tried to grab my arms. I went straight to my room and shut the door.

Like hell was I going to talk about this with anyone.

This was between me and my dad. And I was going to meet him. If it meant getting another criminal sentence, so be it. Been there, done that.

In a weird way, I felt somewhat invincible now. Like I'd gained a super power from my traumatic experience - what was once fear was replaced with acceptance. I'd gained a lot of pain and scars too - ones that would take me years to grow and move on from... But right now I was fearless. Unstoppable. Even the law couldn't frighten me now. And I had nothing to lose. Really, I had nothing. It couldn't get worse than this.

So what could my mum do?

***

Christmas lights sparkled from Victorian streetlamp posts and cheap plastic Santas and reindeers were dancing all over misted shop windows. Snow was settled lightly on the pavements, melted away in the shape of assorted sizes of footprints.

There it was! The moss green sign and the white mermaid logo promising a warm drink and sweet sugary goodness. Starbucks on Oxford Highstreet was my destination and it was in sight. Not Oxford Street in London. No, not at all. The great escape took place at 5:40am, before my mum had awoken from her deep slumber.

In the winter frosted air, fueled by adrenaline, I'd snuck out to Angel Islington and boarded the first tube to King's Cross. For hours and hours, I nervously waited in Caffe Nero for the 8:40 train out of London, trying to blend in with the crowd and keep my face away from the windows. Boarding that train, I felt like a movie protagonist having got away from the villain.

You can't stop me now.

***

It was Christmas Eve, 2020 - but technically not 'Eve' because it was barely 10am. 'Silent Night' played by a full orchestra was shimmering in the distance, making me feel more unholy and out of place, with gliding violins and delicate triangle twinkly chimes ringing out. The whole scene was painting a starlit dream over reality - even in the sunshine harshly pouring into my squinting eyes from the grey-white sky. It shone down triumphantly, bathing my pale, freckled cheeks.