Mutinous

Chapter 50

Harry and I had talked for the past week on occasion, but I was giving him his space even if it was hard.

The weather had finally changed for the better, which made me realise that my leather jacket, mum had borrowed ages ago, would be perfect to wear outside. The problem with the jacket however was that she had never handed it back to me. Before everything that happened that day, I would have said that she simply forgot to hand it back to me, but when I realised that she had hidden in her closet I was no longer so sure of it.

I was home alone apart from Mia preparing dinner downstairs and therefore I didn't bother about whether or not I was making any sound. I knew mum nor father liked me in their room. But hey it was her own fault, mum should have handed me back the jacket.

Their closet was an entire room of it's own. She had one section only for shoes and another only for purses and then a small collection of jackets which was all the more reason for her to borrow one of mine. However, it was not my jacket that caught my attention, but a round, old shoebox with my name on top of it. Why would she keep a box with my name on it? ELLIOT was written with big bold letters on the top, and there was no doubt it was meant for me. The box was placed in the corner underneath the hanging jackets, and it felt like it was taunting me begging for me to open it. So I did. Of course I did, but sometimes I wondered what would have happened if I hadn't.

I sat down on the floor and reached for the box. It looked old. And I wasn't just talking about it being a couple of years old. No, from the tearing on the sides, and the amount of dust covering it, I was sure she had kept it for more than ten years, which made me even more curious to find out what was inside.

I felt my heartbeat increasing as I slowly lifted the top of it off. I anticipated what was inside, but when I saw an old picture of mum, and I, I smiled. It was from the day I was born. Something quickly caught my attention though. I didn't look premature and when I found my birth certificate I realised I wasn't. A baby weighing half a stone at birth and being 50 centimeters long was no premature baby. I might have been studying medicine, but I was certain that was common knowledge. So why would they have told me otherwise? And then it hit me. They had gotten married after mum was pregnant, which only made my confusion grow. Why would they be so determined for me to wait to have sex until after marriage when they had done it themselves? Maybe that was why, but that didn't give them the right to be so upset with me for doing it too.

I grabbed some pictures and a book appeared in sight catching my attention. Without thinking twice about it, I opened it to the first page and read what was written on it. It was mum's handwriting I knew that for certain. But as my confusion grew so did my curiosity.

I wish I'd been older when we met. I wish I could have seen that his intentions were always good- that he wasn't out to hurt me, but I was young and didn't know what true love really was.

It's not until you lose someone that you realise how much that someone means to you, how much you love them. And then when you are left empty and alone the only one left to blame for your misery is yourself.

Who was she talking about? I thought to myself and turned the page.

Summer 1996

My mum would kill me if she knew what I was doing. She would think that her perfect little princess had suddenly turned bad, and she would most likely send me off to an abbey. Oh if only she knew. But he's perfect. He's everything I ever wanted. She doesn't see how happy I am.

I closed the book as I realised it was mum's journal from when she had my age and then I searched the box further wanting answers. Part of me was curious to continue reading, but at the same time, it was a violence of her privacy even if it had been kept in a box with my name on. In all honesty, I was also too scared to continue reading. For no particular reason, I started crying, I feared what I was about to discover. Somehow, it knew I wasn't going to like it whatever it was.