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Layla- Age 16--PAC
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"What?" I said, tears dwelling in my eyes, "You must be joking."
She shook her head slowly. I didn't want to believe this.
"Peter, let's leave." I said sternly.
"Layla-please-hear me out!" Pace called.
I turned around. How could she do this to me?
"NO!," I yelled, "I didn't need you then, I don't need you now."
"Layla...Listen-" she tried.
"Umm...no," I started with anger,"How about YOU listen to ME? You left me. I never had a chance to have a mom...I never needed one. So what makes you think that you can just come out and expect me to forgive you? Give me a break! I cried, felt alone, and unwanted for all those years...because of you? Yes. Now don't expect me to give you the time of day, when you never even gave it to me."
My head exploded. I was speaking with my heart. For all these years I had longed to know my mother, and now I wanted nothing to do with her.
"Layla, LISTEN!" she said furiously.
"WHY?" My tears were bursting out, full throttle.
"Charlie's not your father," she said calmly.
"Yes he is! He has been there for me, and that's what a father does. You have never even acknowledged my presence, and now you expect me to believe your my mother? Don't tell me who my father is. You didn't even know him. He's dead now," I said with reluctance.
"I did," she said smoothly, with tears. "He died?"
"Yes, my all-knowing-mother, he did," I said sourly.
She started crying. I started to feel bad.
"I'm so sorry I did this to you," she sobbed.
"What? What more could you possibly have done?" I said with a demanding tone.
"You were my child," she sniffed, "And I had you at age 15. I put you up for adoption, because I wanted you to have a better life. I didn't want you to be raised by me when I was so young, so immature. Charlie had put out adds on the internet. He was the richest man in the state and he wanted a child. I jumped at the chance to send you there." she sobbed again, "It was a closed adoption, because he wanted you to believe he was your father. I am so sorry, Layla."
I stood, stunned. Shocked. Expressionless.
Everything I knew was a lie.
My mother HAD cared about me.
I looked at Peter, and he circled his foot nervously.
"YOU KNEW?" I said, with annoyance in my voice.
"I'm sorry," he said, closing his eyes.
"I don't want to believe you," I said to Pace.
"You have to, I love you," she cried, "And you have the gift. I can help you with that."
She smiled lovingly.
"Who is my real father?" I asked.
"He was...a ghost." she mumbled.
"WHAT?" Peter and I shouted at the same time.
"Can that really happen? Where is he now?" asked Peter.
"He crossed over," she said with shame.
"This is too much for one day," I said, "I have to go."
I ran out of the room, heading for the car.
Peter jumped in front of me.
"Layla, you can't-" he tried.
"I can and I will, I didn't need any of this." I said.
Peter moved out of the way.
"Can't believe it," he said, "Ghost can have children?"
"Don't get any ideas," I muttered.
"I love you, I would never take advantage of you like that," he coaxed.
"Really?" I asked, looking him in the eyes, "Really? 'Cause I'm not really sure what love is anymore."
"It's us," he said, "I love you."
I tried to disappear, but I couldn't.
