Dust over sorrow

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'I know life is unfair, but this is fucking ridiculous.'



I arrive home early in the morning. My mother expects me with breakfast and tea. Oh mom! Tea is never going to solve this one out.

"Hi, baby girl! How's Jonathan?" She asks me as soon as I enter the house.

"I don't know, mom. He...doesn't talk about this a lot. He just told me it was a car accident. And that's about it. He's not ok, but you know him. He never talks about his problems."

"I always thought he'd at least talk to you. Oh, poor boy! This is terrible. I wish there was something we could do for him." I see that she's been crying, eyes red and puffy. Tired. My full hearted emotional mom.

"It is already a big thing that you let me go stay with him. I mean, you know, under the circumstances." I cover her hand with mine, from across the table, and squeeze a little. "You are the best, you know that." She smiles at me, but I can see that she is all phased out.

"Oh, baby, that is the least I could do, let you support him in these hard times. But I wish we could do more, like letting him know that he is not alone in the world."

"I'm trying to do just that, be right by his side. I cannot even imagine how he will feel like today at the funeral. By the way, did you buy the clothes?"

"Yeah, I did. I think it's the first time I ever hated doing shopping."

"I can imagine. Mother, thank you for everything! I don't know how I could have done any of it alone." She watches me intently, searching the depth of my clouds. I guess she sees something encouraging, whatever that might be, because she pours me another coup of tea, sign that the discussion is not over.

"Speaking of alone. And not listening to your parents....."

"Mom," I say interrupting her, "I don't think you can imagine how much I wanted to come home. To have the convention ended and to just be here, to prove myself to you and dad." I say it all in one breath, so anxious to show her I meant all my promises.

"Clarisse, there is a restraining order in your name. You are not allowed to get close to David. He pressed charges." Mom cannot even look at me while she gives me the horrifying information.

"What?" I stand up running down the high stool, which falls with a nerve wreaking sound. "I can't believe he poses as a victim. Is he for real? Fucking bastard. I'll kill him." I pace nervously, unable to believe my ears. My voice is loud and raspier than usual. "Fucking, good for nothing, moron!"

"Shut up and sit down! Now!" I do as I'm told, like I'm on remote control. My mother has never ever talked to me like this. What is this? The year of firsts?

"Clarisse, we told you that you should go to the police. You refused. A man ready to use force to get what he wants from a girl, is a man with no scruples. Your father has already brought your case to the attention of a lawyer. Because you are due in court for physical assault. And it seems David has a good case."

"Oh my God! Oh my God! When did it get here?"

"That is less important right now. We are going to the police and then the hospital after the funeral. You need to come forward. And as long as those marks are on your face, you can still explain a broken nose and a cracked rib."

"But I cannot go after the funeral. Jonathan needs m....."

"Your future is at stake here, Clarisse. So you are going, whether you like it or not. And that is that." My mother is adamant. And I cannot say she isn't right. She leaves the kitchen without another word.

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