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...
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Chapter Forty - 12 years ago
"I was just a child that had multiple questions, that even the best of them could not answer. I had endless questions, but sometimes, I had to sit on them, and try and figure it out myself, because in all reality, there was no answer. There was no bullshit answer that I could be given, even as an adult"
Jack and I were sitting at my kitchen bench, for what had felt like hours now. I was staring at a blank piece of paper, while Jack was almost finished. I watched him, unsure of how it came so easily to him. I guess, that happens when you have parents, that live happily together, or at least for their children, they make it seem that way.
In my defense, I have never met my mother, as she passed before I was old enough to know her. To understand her. To understand why she kept her children here, with a father that she would have known was hurting her kids. It was easy to see. At this thought, Ryder walks in, and I smile sadly at him. Like usual, he catches on to my discomfort.
He can read me just as easily as he reads one of my bedtime stories. This causes my frown to deepen, as I do not want to involve him yet again in my dismay. But being born into a family with endless brothers, or so it seems, there is no getting away with being upset. I can't even hide it from Silas and Bailey sometimes, which is scary.
Jack nudges me, as Ryder's brows have now raised. I sigh, before slumping in my seat, keeping my eyes focused on the paper. Logan now walks in, placing a lunch bag they took out with them, to work on the fence on the far side border, which is so far they even rode the truck down there. "How's the family tree going?" he questions, and my frown deepens.
I have no idea how to start it. I am not even sure I want to start it. It is a artwork the teacher is making us put on the walls, and while I'm sure many kids, like Jack, are happy to show off their work, I would rather scrunch this piece of paper and burn it. It makes my stomach churn, just simply thinking about it. I don't want to do it.
Every kid has a mom, and if they don't, they have a stepmom. They have a motherly figure in their life. They have a father that loves them. I do not have such a thing, as I am sure my mother would have probably liked me, but if my father's attitude towards me is anything to go by, she probably would think of me the same as he does.
I am surprised that most of my brothers have not taken the same approach. "I'm finished" Jack holds his piece of paper up, his tongue finally slipping back in his mouth and stopping the disgusting dribble it caused down his chin. He is gross. But he is my best friend after all, so I guess he will do. I wonder if I could add him to my family tree.
Logan takes the piece of paper and smiles at it, while Ryder keeps his eyes on me and my piece of paper that still has nothing on it, other than the words 'Family Tree' that Rocky wrote on it for me, hours ago. I sigh, before pushing the paper back for a bit. A knock sounds on the door, and Logan is quick to get it, calling out to Jack that it is indeed his brother.
