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
Tonight for the first time since I'd received the news of my mother's condition, I allowed myself to feel. I allowed myself to let those feelings that I had tried so hard to suppress to finally resurface.
After my talk with Kris a couple of nights ago at the hill, I realized that I'd been trying to suppress and slow down the grieving process and it was doing more harm than good.
My mother's nurse Candace had called me over a week ago in the middle of the charity ball I attended and her words had been engraved in my mind but I had refused to let them truly sink in.
Until now, I managed to squeeze myself into my mother's bed on the vacant spot right beside her. I made sure to be as gentle as possible as I embraced her in her sleep.
I felt like a little boy again, bursting into his mom's room after a bad dream, embracing her for the remainder of the night for protection. Tonight I allowed myself to feel that same vulnerability of the young boy I once was and I let the waterworks flow.
Candace's words replayed in my mind and allowed it all to sink in; the fact that the treatment we had her on was no longer having an effect and how limited my time with her was.
My chest tightened as memories played right before my eyes like a prerecorded movie. Along with all the things that could have been, all the things that we could have done together, all the things that she would now miss; the birth of her grandkids, being there with me as the woman I choose to be my wife walks down the aisle.
19 Y E A R S A G O A G E 8
They were fighting again.
I should be used to it by now, it happens every night. But I wasn't.
Their voices were louder than usual this time and it worried me.
I know mom had given me clear instructions for how I was supposed to act during their fights or 'talks' as she called them; I was meant to stay in my room no matter what, under the covers, reciting my favorite poems over and over again until the noise stopped.
But tonight was different, I couldn't just stay here I needed to see what was going on.
Cole, my friend from school had told me that he saw his dad hit his mom in the face once. I didn't want that to happen to my mom.
I needed to protect her.
I needed to be ready because little did my father know, I'd been practicing a few karate moves every night before bed so I knew that I beat him.
I slid the covers off my body and got up, walking barefoot towards the door. I twisted the knob and pulled it open just enough to take a peek outside. Seeing nothing out of the small opening, I pulled it wider poking my whole head outside to get a better look.
