Meet Kristal Jane Anderson.
The girl that feels as though she was stripped from all the joys of life on one ungodly night. A night that changed her whole perspective on love forever, a night in which she stopped believing in it's existence, a night...
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Aiden Vasilakis
"Can you fucking believe him?" I asked pacing around the length of my mother's room.
"Of course I can. I know your father, he would never risk the media finding out that his beloved wife moved out, that would totally shatter his family oriented guy persona," My mother replied from her spot on her rocking chair. Her hands worked skillfully bringing to life the gray sweater she had been knitting for weeks.
I stopped in my tracks turning my full attention on my mother, "but I don't give a fuck about what he thinks, I bought that house for us. You don't have to live in a house with a man who despises your presence so just say the words and I'll get you out of here no questions asked,"
She stared at me long and hard, seeming to consider it even if it was just for a split second until she finally shook her head slowly. A perfect mixture of anger, frustration and disappointment rose in the pit of my stomach. I knew my mother well enough to know that she would never do anything to disobey my father, she would always refrain from doing things that disappointed him even if it meant sacrificing herself.
My parents' marriage was the saddest case of unrequited love known to men. As much as my father showed his disaffection, my mother did nothing but reciprocate it with compassion in hopes that it would soften my father's dark stone heart. It never did.
"For the sake of everyone it's best if I stay here, I can't be the reason for yet another feud between you and your father-"
"Mom this isn't about my father and I," I found myself cutting in, "this is about you, mom, my relationship with him was doomed from the very beginning, nothing you do now will change that so you can stop trying to sacrifice yourself,"
She held my gaze a little while longer before averting it down to the sweater on her lap, "Aiden, I'm staying here," She said, finality laced in her tone.
"Mom, you can't-"
Her gaze was back on mine before I could finish my sentence, "No," She paused for a moment, "Aiden, this house. . . brought me good and bad memories but the good ones outweigh the bad because I watched you grow, watched you take your first step, watched you blow your first candle, this house is special to me, Aiden. I can't think of a place I'd rather be,"
I clenched my jaw noting the finality of her words, I nodded in response. I forced myself back down on the couch I was seated on silently accepting my defeat.
Silence spread across the room like a wildfire. I didn't have the ability to get angry at my mother so I knew that the feeling brewing inside me was nothing but frustration and disappointment.
As much as I wanted my mother to react differently– as much as I wanted her to jump of joy the moment I told her that there was a way to get her out of this hellhole–, I knew how unrealistic that was. Especially after telling her that my father went out of his way to find me and tell me that she couldn't leave the estate.
