Sweet Little Pains

Prologue

(An excerpt from Hailey Wentworth's journal.)

Journal,

Today, mom's supposed to be released from prison. A week ago, I would have said good riddance and not cared at all. But right now, all I can feel are masses of emotions, conflicting inside me.
I feel guilt, first and foremost. Fear and agitation comes up next. I feel like I'm a judas. A betrayer.

My mom was imprisoned (as I have mentioned in previous rants) in the state penitentiary on the charges of fraud and embezzlement, second degree Grand Larceny. Alex and I, as well as dad, were led to believe for years now that she had stolen money, little amounts that could go unnoticed but together, was a tidy sum, for at most six months. The total amount according to Grandie, that is, my paternal grandmother, was up to seventy-five thousand dollars. Grandie had also found out, again, according to her, that mom had been having an extensive secret affair with another man, her secretary for five months and had planned to use the money she'd stolen from the company to flee with her lover to an exotic country.

That was what we believed. That was also why dad let Grandie charge mom to court instead of sweeping it under the rug, that was also why dad withdrew her lawyers from her defense. It was also why we have never, not even once, gone to see her during the sixteen years she spent in prison. Alex and I had been hurting for dad's sake, although Alex was just two when it all happened. I've never seen him look so distraught as he did when Grandie revealed the whole thing.

Except now, as it turns out, mom wasn't a liar. Grandie was. She had framed mom for the whole thing, framed her so well that we ate up every word she said. Every angle mom could have used to prove her innocence, Grandie had sealed shut. We believed her and not mom, because all evidence pointed to the lie - she had cheated and stolen.

Grandie's dead. That's the only reason we even found out in the first place. As it turns out, she did have a sliver of a conscience, because a year before she died of leukemia, she sat down in front of a camera and told the whole truth. Every little lie, every-

The executor of her will had given us the video just yesterday. Apparently, she had wanted the video to be given to us at least six months after her death. In it, she tried to defend her reasons for ruining her daughter-in-law's life.

"I did it for you. All of you. You all deserve better than that gutter-rat orphan. I did it because I love you three, and I would do it again. Gladly."

I was sick to my stomach after listening to her words. Alex was too, I could see the troubled look in his eyes. But dad... when dad heard those words, he blanched paper white, and woodenly, went into his study. He didn't come outside for the whole of yesterday. I can only guess what he was thinking.

We fucked up. We fucked up really bad. I wonder if mom can ever look at us without curling her lip in disdain. I wouldn't blame if she can't.

I remember what I said to her. She'd pleaded with me desperately to believe her when it all came down. She'd needed someone to believe her, someone to hug her and say, 'I know you didn't do it. I believe you.'.

Instead... instead all I did was tell her I hated her. I told her mean, awful things that should never be said to a person. I just opened my mouth and let my rage tumble out in the form of words. Then I spat at the ground before her feet and left her staring at me.

That was the last time I ever saw her. And now I've just found out that it was all a big, fat lie. Honestly, Grandie had better be glad she wasn't alive. If she was... oh God, if she was alive, I would -

What are we supposed to do? We'd gone and let someone's life be ruined unjustly, someone whose only crime was loving us. We didn't even bother to investigate, we just... oh, God.

How are we supposed to go on from here? We can just ignore the past sixteen years like as if they didn't happen. They did happen. While we were living in perfect luxurious comfort, she was in prison struggling to survive only God knows what.

I would not be surprised if she can't stand the mere mention of our names. Talk even less of seeing us. Mom probably - no, most likely hates us and it's completely justified. I hate myself for it too.

I don't know what to do. I'm so tired of it all. I wish it was possible to go back in time and make Grandie an invalid before she screws mom over capitally. But I can't.