The Love of a Foolish Girl (Hemlock Grove Fanfiction)

Prologue

"Why?!" I screamed, but sounded whiny.

            "Sweetie I got a job, I have to make money, so I can raise you, feed you, and send you to college." She said in a stern voice, but I could tell she was tired of fighting with me.

            "Good, but do that here! Dad and Jax are buried here! We can't leave!" I said, knowing if I  brought up my father and brother she would reconsider, it made me feel guilty just to throw that in her face but I didn't want to move. I go every Saturday to visit my father and brother's grave under the oak tree to catch them up on my life, I sometimes feel pathetic talking to the ground but it's easier talking to the ground than anyone else.

            I could see the corner of her eyes beginning to water, "Honey this job pays extremely well, I've heard great things about the school-,"

            "Yeah, well while that's great and wonderful, have you heard what happens in that town! The mass murders there!"

            "They are not mass."

            "Well even so, a lot of crazy, effed up stuff happens there!" Even when I'm furious I can't find the strength to curse at my mother.

            "That doesn't mean that, that doesn't happen in any other town."

            "You can't be serious, 'Bodies found torn limb by limb, Teenage Girls Found Dead,' did I mention that they think some sort of animal killed them, a werewolf, and tore them apart!" I said angrily quoting the newspaper articles I found from that stupid town. "Oh and if the town couldn't get any creepier the name of the town suits it, Hemlock freaking Grove!"

            I could see my mother's eyes just hanging by a thread, she stepped towards me and gently touched my head removing the strands of hair I left hanging in front of my eyes, I didn't have the energy to smack her hand away. "I'm sorry, if I could pick a better town I would. If I could get a better job offer, I would take it. I just want to be able to take care of you, and be a good mother."

            "You are a good mother," I said calmly to reassure her, when my father died she constantly worried about becoming a neglectful mother, turning into her father, my grandfather. My grandmother died when my mother was young, six or so I believe, and after her death he'd never paid any attention to her, he forgot he even had a daughter, he drank too much, and used to blame my mother for his wife's death. She spent most nights at her older brothers apartment or at friend's houses, anywhere to get away from her father. She was terrified of him, he sometimes forgot to buy food, so she would often go days without eating anything, sometimes weeks.

            Some tears began to trickle down her face, I hugged her, "I'm sorry," I said trying to soothe her, "I understand you're just trying to be a good mother."