Suri Melrose Willoughby is a young girl with the weight of the world on her back. Being the only child and growing up in a single parent home, she was spoiled rotten by her mother. Not with materialistic things, but with honesty, time, attention, co...
After I closed the shop for the day, I braced myself as I drove to the most hated place on earth. My mother's house. She texted hours ago asking if I could stop by, but I never gave her a definite answer. We haven't spoken in four years and haven't seen each other in eight. Our relationship used to be strong and solid until she met her rapist husband Johnathon. From the moment he waltzed in our lives, our mother-daughter bond began failing. The lustful stares he gave me when she wasn't paying attention, the flirty comments with underlying meanings and "accidental" feels he gave me were only the beginning of the hell I would experience. His pedophile ways went from minor things like that to intimate acts of sneaking into my room every night, touching what makes me a female. It started on my fifteenth birthday and continued until I left for college three years later. With the last of the hope I had left that my mother and I relationship could've been repaired, I confessed to her the awful things he's done. It backfired on me. Instead of averting her anger on Johnathon, she directed her frustrations towards me calling me whores, man-stealers and every other degrading name possible. That was the moment she and I no longer had a relationship. In my eyes, she was just the woman who carried and birth me. A real mother would've never sided with her child's rapist over her daughter. What hurt me the most is the fact she saw my bruises and used condoms full of semen he left scattered across my room, yet she accused me of being a fast tail teenager, having guys in my room. After I left for school, we stopped all communication with each other. Intentionally on my end. Until she heard about me trying to get my art gallery off the ground. She sent half of the money for it and although I was grateful, it didn't replace the hurt I harbored because of her. So, when she texted me earlier, I was at a lost for words. I don't know why she wants to randomly see me eight years later, but if it's not about her making it right, I can go another eight years without her in my life.
Reaching her house, I scoffed seeing Johnathon outside talking with another man who seems to be around his age, only the guy is far better attractive. Stepping out of the car, he spotted me instantly and a crooked smile plastered her face.
"Suri, long time, no see." He opened his arms asking for a hug as if I'd really make skin to skin contact with him ever again.
"Hi, I'm Melrose." I ignored him, speaking to the stranger in the most respectful manner. Outstretching my hand, he gladly shook it.
"Nice to meet you, Melrose. I'm Winter." He said with a million dollar smile. Gosh, he sounded so much like Raine, I thought.
"It's nice to meet you too Winter. I'll leave you two gentlemen to your conversation." I said, walking into the two-story brick house. As much as I despise Johnathon, he kept my mother living comfortably in luxury. Venus is one of those zen people, who are always keeping a positive mind and is in one with her body and soul. Her house reflected who she was. The smell of burning incense pervaded the air, giving me nostalgic feels of my pure childhood before it was rudely unpurified.
"Venus!" I called out, walking further into the house. "Venus, where are you?"
"In the den!" She yelled back. I went there and saw her sitting on a stack of pillows with her eyes closed, humming. Meditating I'm assuming.
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