Isabella Parker was moved away from her six brothers and friends at the age of 8 following her parents divorce, with the hopes of starting a new life with her Dad in New York.
Now, six years later, young Izzy is 14 and forced to move back home as he...
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CHAPTER THREE
"Oh my god."
The door swings open and I'm met with an older woman, looking to be around the age of fifty. Her long brown hair held streaks of grey as she looks at me, tears streaming.
This wasn't just any woman, this was my mother.
She's changed in every way imaginable. Her blue eyes were now littered with small wrinkles as her once relaxed attitude had turned into a sympathetic stare. I'd always marvelled at how young my mum managed to stay looking, but now she looks gone beyond her years.
My guilt runs short as I narrow my eyes at Natalie, I refuse to call her mum. Her sadness pisses me off, you can't be upset over something you made happen. That's bullshit.
"Oh goodness, my baby, Isabella." She looked shattered as she brings her hand up to her heart, just scanning my new facial features.
I ignore her just staring at her in response.
Growing up in a household of men, me and my mother often turned to each other, seeking a greater comfort then we'd ever be able to reach with our boys.
She'd braid my hair every morning before school, and comfort me when the kids made fun of my two small pigtails. She'd cook my favourite meals on the days I was sad, and cook my favourite deserts on the days I was happy. She'd comfort me when my brothers would pick on me, and pick on them when they'd fail to comfort me.
She was my rock and disintegrated right in front of me.
"I'm so sorry baby. I've missed you so dearly." She sighs deeply, opening her arms to initiate a hug.
What a fucking joke.
I flinch away from her inviting arms, grimacing slightly. I feel no sympathy as a look of hurt flashes in her eyes before she quickly recovers and nods with understanding.
I feel my Dad's steady gaze burning into my side, everything in me itching to turn around and slap that angry look right off his face.
Surprisingly, I refrain.
"Things were never meant to be like this, I wanted to be there for you Izzy." She says sadly, taking an interest in the ground as she adverts my gaze.
Where was she when I couldn't eat without her? Where was she when I was getting practically raped by an overage boyfriend? Where was she when I wouldn't leave my bed unless the boys showed up?
"I don't even know where to begin to apologise."
"Then don't." I huff, pushing past her to enter the house. She slightly jolts backwards as I barge her shoulder, but neither her or my dad decide to comment on my blatant disrespect.
I want them too. I want her to hate me. I want to be sent away again.
I pause in the living room, being instantly brought into it when walking into the house.
