Quinn:: "About time. Start talking!" I say it like this is really what I want. You can barely hear the hesitation in my voice. But I refuse to break down in front of them and look weak. I want answers. Because I deserved a Father and she took him from me. I wanted to know why my mother killed my father.
Que:: " When I was 8 years old, I was molested for the first time. I told my mother and she didn't believe me. Especially when I wouldn't tell her who it was that touched me. But the way she looked at me let me know then that she'd never take my side. So I stopped trying to tell her and over the next 4 years as i began to mature the visits from my rapist increased. He'd come to my room at least once a week, sometimes it was over quickly. Other times he'd cover my face with a pillow and it'd last for hours. I thought i was safe once i started my cycle but he kept coming back. About 6 months after my 13th birthday I noticed my body changing.. I was afraid. So i hid this from everyone." I stare at Quinn the whole time Im talking. "One day as i was getting in the shower my mother burst in... when she saw my stomach she slapped me over and over sscreaming 'You bitch. Who's is it? You been fucking these little dirty boys'? No matter how much I swore I wasn't she didn't believe me. She dragged me downstairs in the kitchen in front of my Father. 'Look at her!' she screamed again. And when the monster looked into my eyes...I knew I was about to be beaten senseless. "
(Flashback conts.)
He got up and walked towards us and i snatched away from my mother. I ran to the other side of the kitchen island. He grabbed a knife on the way and the darkness in his eyes was a familiar sight to me. This man had assaulted me at every chance when my mother was sleeping, working or out of the house. I hated my so called father with every part of me. And as he approached me with this knife ready to end the life of me and this child he'd forced inside me...I snapped. Grabbing the nearest thing to me i threw it at him...it was a glass jar and shattered on impact leaving a cut down his temple. As he held his head to see where the blood was coming from I slid across the counter top and grabbed a cast iron skillet. My mother just stood there in disbelief as he ran towards me with the knife pointed towards my stomach. I held the pan like a shield at the last minute and used it to protect my stomach. He crashed into me and we fell. The knife slid across the floor landing in front of my mother. She looked at us...really looked at us and it all seemed to click.
She realized that this man she had given everything to and shared her life with...
The man who had helped her make a beautiful baby girl and then somehow started warping her mind against her...
This man who had given her the greatest gift...had stolen the deepest innocence from that gift. All those years when she'd asked who it was, she never told because...
"It was You." my mother said calmly.
Before she came at us with the knife...
