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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Kristal Anderson
The look on his face was unmistakable; bewilderment at first like he couldn't quite believe his eyes, then fear for a split second when he got a glimpse of my face, then anger.
"Who the hell are you and what are you doing in my office?" He roared.
I heard what he said but it went in one ear and out the other, he had called me by my mother's name and all I desperately wanted was to know why. "Y-you- knew my mother?"
A few long moments passed by in complete silence before his long footsteps filled the room as he walked deeper into the room heading towards his desk. "What the hell are you talking about–"
"You said her name, you said my mother's name, you called me Iris, you thought I was her," My voice cracked at the end, I was starting to lose control over my body, too many emotions coming over me all at once.
He now stood over his desk next to his chair while I stood on the other side, "I have no idea who the hell you are or who your damn mother is, Iris is the name of one of the maids and you just happen to resemble h–"
"Don't lie to me!" That look on his face when he called out her name wasn't one that a man of his status would give to his employees, "Please, don't lie to me," I lowered my voice, the vulnerability it held now clear as day for him. Standing in front of him like that made me realize how little I knew of my mother, how little I remembered. I was only nine when she passed, the good memories stuck around of course but there was so much I still didn't know; the only friend of hers that I knew was Aunt Jenna cause she's always lived close to us, I knew very limited things about her past, if she had other friends, enemies, acquaintances that she couldn't stand, there was only so much you could tell a nine-year-old. So standing in front of him was an opportunity to get new information on my mother, new memories for me to smile about when I thought about her.
I continued, "I- I lost my mother when I was very young and I just–"
He held up his hand stopping me, "Spare me the details, I do not care. Now, would you care to explain what the fuck you think you're doing in my office?"
That felt like a punch to the gut. A lump formed in my throat as the tears threatened to fall but I swallowed it all back, I was already embarrassed enough, "I'm sorry, the d-door was open and I was just admiring the painting, that's all. I swear I didn't touch anything, or take anything. I'm here with your son, Aiden and I–"
"Remind him to put you on a leash next time so you don't go snooping around where you don't belong," He remarked coldly as he pulled out his chair and sat down. He began flipping through the notepad that sayt in front of him, completely disregarding my presence.
I stared completely dumbfounded, "I'm really sorry, I didn't mean–" I stopped myself when I watched him pick up a pen and begin to write on a blank page of the notepad. He wasn't listening. So I clutched the strap of my satchel harder before turning on my heels and leaving, making sure to close the door behind me.
