Genevieve Anderson, the girl that had been left behind and forgotten.
In a town where everybody knows everybody, meaning that no one goes unnoticed. Nobody just grabs a bag and leaves in the middle of the night, without someone seeing something. No...
Oops! This image does not follow our content guidelines. To continue publishing, please remove it or upload a different image.
Chapter Thirty Three - present
"The father had beaten me black and blue, had done the same to my mother. He had killed her, and I had lived with him, thinking I was the one in the wrong. I never knew my days were counted, and that my father could have killed me as well, all because he didn't like women. He didn't like my mother, and he hated me for it"
Days had been creeping along, where I finished my last few shifts at the diner, as Mrs. Sanderson had not gotten rid of me fast enough, as she shooed me out after every shift, not allowing me to work the night shift. Jack and I had not been apart for many hours of said days, afraid that any one could be our last one.
I had been in talks with Miles about moving schools, as the return to school was nearing, even though it was still weeks away, I was at that point where these topics of conversations had to be spoken about. I knew Jack was coming with me, when I eventually did move away, but Beckett's family was still in discussion.
Beckett had said he was coming no matter what, but it didn't help that his mother was on the edge, as they had wanted to settle here, but after finding out that people like my father lived here, they were definietly leaning more towards leaving than staying. In saying that, as I stood in my room, looking at the bedroom that had saved me more times than not, it was now looking bare.
To my surprise, Miles had bought some boxes for whatever I wanted to keep as the house would be going on the market soon, but I would be surprised if anyone purchased it, knowing whom had lived here. I had packed most my bedroom up, other than a few pieces of clothing that I rotated through, and my furniture.
They would soon be dissembled, as Miles was going to make a trip to his place in a few days to take said furniture and boxes, so I would be more comfortable moving in. But, that was all going on the back burner today, as I held the bouquet of flowers, as I gave myself a final look. Dressed in the best pair of boots I owned, I had scrounged through my clothes for a nice denim skirt and button down.
It wasn't my usual attire, as my legs were shown, but I thought against it, as this was a nice occasion. I was doing this for my brother, so it could be done. I could scrub up for a few hours, as it was the least I could do for said brother, that was making the trip back and forth, so that I would be more comfortable when I was to move into his said place.
He was also taking the few horses we still owned, just for my sake. Ryder would be assisting with the dogs, as he and Logan had been taking care of them. It had been a relief, having a few less responsibilities on my plate, which had been the same ones I had held on my shoulders for 12 years. 12 years, and to say I was exhausted and burnt out, would be an understatement.
Much to my surprise, Miles and Ryder had also been helping me with healing the few injuries my father had inflicted on me, as it apparently hadn't gone unnoticed all those times that I winced or flinched away from comfort and physical contact. They were more attentive than I gave them credit for.