I Killed My Mother

Chapter 23

Monday, 2015/02/13, 19:30
Dan's place...California

"Dan? Do you think we can take Kate to see Catherine tomorrow?" Mom asked.

"Carlene! Have you not been listening to me? She cannot know about her!"

Who is Catherine? Why do I remember her name from my parents arguments? Should I ask who she is?

My thoughts were interrupted by a loud thud coming from downstairs.

"Don't you fucking dare!" Dan's voice was angry. He was hiding something. Something big.

"Let go of me."

I crept down the remaining steps and took in the sight in front of me. Dan had pinned Jacky up against the wall, holding her up by her sweater. She caught my eye and her expression softened. I wondered why she always did that. Dan noticed her change in expression and loosened his grip on her. He turned around to look at me and cleared his throat.

I shook my head at him and turned to Jacky who had suddenly found the wooden floors interesting.

"Jacky do you mind helping me pack? Unless Dan is ready to tell me about Catherine."

"I'll help you pack," her voice was low.

After an hour of packing in silence, jacky spoke.

"What time should you be ready tomorrow?"

"Jess said she'll come by when she is ready.''

''Do you wanna call her and make sure of the time?"

"I don't have a phone."

"You need to get one tomorrow then," she smiled at. Why is she always smiling?

"Yeah. I'm beat Jacky. So I think I'm gonna sleep now," I said as kindly as possible.

"Me too. Sleep well," she gave me a weak smile and left. I followed behind but only to lock my door.

I sat back on my bed and thought back to an hour ago- Dan pinning Jacky up against the wall- Soon that image escaped my thoughts and was replaced by a memory I know too well. The wall turned into a fridge, Jacky into a little Kate and Dan into grandpa Phil. That night was one of the worst nights of my life. No matter how hard I tried, I couldn't get the memory to fade. It was suffocating me. Drowning me. Hell. They all were. The time I went to school with a huge purple mark on my face and my grandparents were called in. Granddad was furious and I sure did pay for it. Even though I said nothing to my teachers, he still beat me like a dead dog.

The night he caught me trying to empty out all his alcohol in the sink with hopes that maybe he will wouldn't be so nasty anymore. My grandma paid for that too in my behalf. Just because she suggested I stayed with them for the 'short' time my parents were having problems. He made me sit and watch him hit her. Everytime I tried to close my eyes he would either hit me or bang her head against the wooden coffee table.

Grandma made excuses for him everytime. Even the time he hit her so hard in the stomach, she bled through her mouth.

She became submissive to him. She had even stopped trying.

In frustration, I pulled on the curtain that was draped around my bed. My head was spinning and my anger levels rising. I didn't know what to do with myself. I opened my bathroom door and ran the shower. I then stood in front of the mirror and looked at myself until it went foggy from the steam.

At my breaking point, I punched my mirror twice and all the bits of broken glasses fell at my feet and on top of the sink. My knuckles were torn and had blood pouring out of them.

A drop of blood fell onto a big piece of glass. The piece was sharp and could most definitely do a lot of damage to me. It's funny how a piece of broken glass can do physical damage on human flesh but give an emotional or mental high at the same time.

I pressed the pointed bit of the glass on the tip of my left index finger. Immediately a bead of blood popped out and a stinging sensation tingling up and down my previous scars on my arms, just aching for attention from the broken glass.

The shard of glass penetrated my skin with ease and re-opened wounds from just few days ago. It instantly got me on a high I hadn't expected. I had never done anything like this before and it felt good. Everything just went away. Dan, Jacky, Phil and Catherine.

Once I came back from the trance I was sent on, I sensed a figure behind me.

"Kate?"

Jacky.

I dropped the piece of glass to the floor and sat in silence with Jacky's gaze on my back. I could imagine her tears. I heard her tears. She had seen me use my body as a canvas and the piece of glass as paintbrush. Now she knew that I liked to paint pretty pictures. A lot.

She sniffed in and let her legs lead her to my side and she sat cross legged. She grabbed on my arms, careful not to press to hard. Her hands were soon covered by my blood but she didn't seem to mind.

"Why are you doing this to yourself?''

I couldn't give her a good enough reason so I just sat there and let my eyes glaze over. I could see her cry but I couldn't hear anything. I couldn't help but feel guilty.

She reach over for my cloth and tried wiping the blood away but it wouldn't stop bleeding. The more she wiped, the more blood escaped my veins. The maroon-red liquid had covered both of us everywhere.

When the blood had dried, I pulled on my hair in frustration.

I was so pathetic.

Next Chapter they go to Indiana and uncover secrets.
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