He was with my mother? No, that was impossible. He could not have been with my mother, she was all the way across the United States. "What?" I asked, my tone accusatory. I feel anger boil up inside my gut and can't help but walk toward him. I have the urge to punch my own father, but never is that ever right. Its assault, and I can't go to jail. I hold back the feeling, but find it rather difficult.
I feel his strong hand grab my wrists, he knows what I feel. "Ember. It's not what it sounds like. I haven't exactly been truthful about your mother." He answers my question that I hadn't even asked. He knows me so well, he knows that I am angry, that I want answers. That I will get them someway, somehow.
"Well?" I say, and it's the same tone as before. I need the information. I have to get it.
"Your mother...she has never left. She never went to live in New York. She never left Juneau." He replies softly like it's the simplest thing to say.
"What?" Is all I can say. The words sink in and yet I can't believe him. He lied to me all these years. How could he just do that, to his daughter? To lie to me for my entire life. I couldn't believe it. My father had lied. I took a shaky breath, trying to calm myself, to not get angry. I had to listen. I had to keep calm to really know what he'd kept from me.
"She has a secret. I cannot tell you, Ember, I was with her." He answers and I shoot air heavily from my nostrils, letting my anger out to relieve my father of not getting into yet another fight with me today.
"Well, then what is the point of telling me this if it's all just going to be kept away from me? Am I just supposed to be calm when you tell me that my mother has never left, that she's been here the whole time; that my unexpectedly short cut trip to New York that ended badly was for no reason. Father, you've lied to me all this time and you expect me to be calm?" I yell, and feel the elation of my gut. Yelling, cutting out my opinions like this feels better than keeping them inside.
"Ember, I'm not saying you have to do anything I—"
"But you're telling me that my mother, my own mother, has been here all this time? How dare you? How dare you keep me ignorant? How dare you even lie to your own daughter?" I shout, and that's when I run outside the cabin. I just can't take this anymore.
I don't know where I'm going, but I just keep going. By now, I hear cars surrounding me, which I know is dangerous to be walking on my own not knowing where I can walk. I rely on my senses and hearing that is naturally heightened.
I hear the engines blurring the air, and the soft wind tears at my face gently. The weather is chilly, but I ignore it. The rain is coming down in tiny sprinkles making it chillier than I realized. I don't know where I am, or where I am even going, but still, reach on towards somewhere to be alone. I have to be alone. For now.
Footsteps collide with mine and I know someone is nearby. I pick up the beat of theirs comparing them with others I might know, and shiver. It's her. The one that drowned me. I try to get rid of her, turning corners sharply, walking into shops, but she remains consistent.
I can hear the patter of her boots on the sidewalk getting closer and faster, and I feel my heartbeat pick up the pace in fear. She is back. And this time I don't have anyone to save me heroically. I start to really panic. Could I really take myself out of this situation? Could I get away? I couldn't think right. She was after me.
"Come back here you liar." Her voice rang through the wind, biting my mind into fear. I think about what to do next. Bravely, I turn towards her voice, hoping I look angry, even when I'm frightened that I may die this time. I can hear the roar of the waves below, angrily bellowing at the shore where they hope to escape. I gulp, and hope she doesn't notice.
YOU ARE READING
Ariel's Daughter
Fantasy"I don't like it, but it's true." It's my dad's voice. Sad and full of guilt. I frown. He must feel horrible, but I realized yesterday, that I can't blame him for this turnout. It was my mother that kept me in the dark all this time. Dad was only th...