Chrissy Moone

Chapter 9

I knocked lightly on his door, covered in honeysuckle. The house looks like a lovely funny caring family live there. It is quite the opposite. The door is a oak door, with a gold knocker. The house is a cream colour, vines growing along the walls, flowers in pots everywhere, a white rusted bench outside.
A man I don't recognise opens the door. He has shaved his beard, recently, I can tell, maybe even today. He has brown short hair, neatly trimmed. He wears a cosy red jumper, along with black trousers and polished dubes. This can not be Adrian Porter. It just can't. His face turns pale, and he embraces me in a huge bear hug, crying on my shoulder. I stand stiffly, my hands my sides. How can I hug a man who ruined my childhood, got rid of my family, and hit me practically every time I breathed. I just can't hug that kind of man.
"Chrissy. I'm so sorry" he whispers "Forgive me"
I back away from him and stand beside my mother.
"Why don't we talk about this inside?" Mum asks, noticing I'm feeling uncomfortable and squeezing my hand. We step inside, to a hall filled with pictures of me as a baby, as a little kid, scowling at the camera.
They were never there when I was here.

"You were such a grumpy little girl" he chuckles lightly.

"Oh I wonder why?" I snap, pointing at the bruises and cuts running down my arms. He frowns, and leads us to the kitchen.
We sit on the cushioned chairs, my staring fiercely at him, my eyes narrowed. It's all an act. I know it.

"Chrissy, you've been gone for 6 months now. I missed you so much. I missed giving you hot chocolate before bed, serving you fried eggs in the morning"
never happened
"and toasties for lunch. You helping me out on the farm, us riding together. The joys of when you were here. I know I sometimes got angry, and all parents do, but I felt it was wrong, because I'm very kind.
So, I got therapy. I've lost my small temper, and I'll do everything right. Just give me one more chance" he pleads. Lies. All lies.

"What about all the things Chrissy told me, that you abused her? It would explain those bruises in the pictures." Mum asks, not exactly convinced.

"What? No! Those bruises were from the little boys that lived across the road! They beat her up because she had cancer! Even when she was a baby!" He protests.
Lies. They only knew I had cancer when I was a toddler. But of course Mum wouldn't know that, which is all part of his plan.
Mum looks confused. Aunt buts in.
"Chrissy wouldn't lie. I know she wouldn't lie about that. She told me all about it when she ran away to me"
Adrian shrugs lightly.

"She did use to lie to get attention"
Aunt narrows her eyes slightly at him, knowing I wouldn't lie. Now it's my turn to talk.
"I didn't lie!! You abused me since I was a baby! I wouldn't lie about that. I don't lie. I don't cry either.
Remember you told me not to cry? If I did you'd whack me? Because I remember that. Do you, Adrian?" I say, clenching my fists.

I see a flash of anger in his eyes, but he covers it up quickly. He chews his lower lip.

"Can't say I do. Enough chat anyway. Straight to business. I'm sorry if I didn't treat you sternly enough on not to lie to your elders, so I'll try again. Please come back. Your mother and aunt can visit you anytime you want." He says smoothly, the lies dripping off his tongue like honey.

"Absolutely not." I snap. He pretends to be hurt. Mum places a hand on my shoulder. Adrian smiles stiffly.

"Can I talk to you for moment Jade?" He asks Mum. She nods and they disappear into the sitting room. I hear Adrian using his charm. They return, Mum all giggly.

"Chrissy, give your father another chance. Faith will visit you whenever you can. Bye sweetie, be good for your dad." She kisses me goodbye, and leaves. Aunt hugs me tearfully, knowing this is wrong.

"Call me if there's any problem" she whispers in my ear. Max clings to me, and I embrace him in a tight hug. I kiss both his cheeks and hes taken away from me, everyone leaving me with my father.

He grins at me
"So, you've been telling tales have you?" And then he's hitting me, hitting me, hitting me.