Daughter of the Irish

Chapter One

Chapter 1-

My mother sits in front of 6 year old me in the car. I'm singing along to a song on the radio and my mother's teeth are gritted. She takes her eyes off the busy highway road to switch the radio channel. That's when the car comes barreling into the front of our car, hitting in exactly the right place that would permanently damage my mother. The last thing I see is flashing lights and my mother, bloody and injured on a stretcher. Dead.

I wake up screaming again from my dream. For 4 years since it happened this nightmare has haunted me. My mother's death haunts me. I now find myself crying and curled up in a ball. No one will come though. My grandparents are far past caring about me feeling safe. The only reason they took me in was because they were all I had left. No one could tell the nurses my father's name. No one knew. They could always give me to my aunt Allie, but she travels to much and apparently it's unhealthy for a young child like myself to be traveling the world like that. It's better for me to be grounded so I can feel secure and safe after my mother's death. That's what the therapist tells me anyway. He also tells me when I am reminded of the memory to repeat basic things about myself so I know I'm still here and safe. It helps somewhat. Ok, my name is Kiana Maura Jacobson. I am 10 years old. My hair color is brown. I have blue eyes. My mother is dead. My father is a mystery. My grandparents don't really care for me. I'm pretty much alone. I needed to get out of this fluffy cozy room that doesn't feel as welcoming to me. I tip toe out of the room even though my grandparents are asleep two floors below. I slip into an empty room filled with my mother's few possessions. My grandparents tried to hide it, but unfortunately for them, hiding wasn't their strong spot. I found it by the time I was 8. I surround myself in her things when I feel alone, which happens often. Sometimes I dig through it like I do now. Her clothes, they still smell like her. All the dresses, but not one is white. I know she wasn't married. Grandmom didn't have to tell me that. My grandparents never really talk about my parents. They always turn away the questions or tell me to do the homework the tutor gave me. I don't have to go to school. I have a tutor who comes and teaches me. She's nice, the tutor, Samantha. I dig deeper into my mothers things and find a picture of her and Aunt Allie as teenagers. There's a boy in the picture with them. He has blonde looking hair and I can't tell his eye color since his eyes are closed and he's kissing my mom's cheek. Allie is hugging her from the other side. Who is that boy? Maybe I can find more pictures. I dig more and surface a picture of my mom in a graduation gown with the same boy hugging her. Looking further I find a picture of them with several other boys and girls with their arms around each other. Maybe Grandmom and Granddad know. It was about 8 a.m by now and both of my grandparents were probably up by now. Early risers. My soundless feet head down the four flights of stairs until I reach the bottom floor.

"Genevieve, may you please pass me the creamer?" I hear the unmistakable voice of my granddad.

"Here dear." I hear her reply. That's when I decide to walk in.

"Good morning Grandmother, Grandfather." I state using proper manners. They hated unsophisticated people more than anything else in this world.

"Kiana, why are you still in your pajamas?" Grandmother asks me.

"I'm sorry, I can go change them if you wish." I say.

"No, it's fine right now. Change after breakfast." She says. I take a seat at the table across from grandfather. He has a newspaper in one hand and coffee in the other.

"Anything new in the news grandfather?" I ask. I ask him this every morning, it seems to make him like me the slightest bit more. It's really the only conversation we ever have.

"Nothing. Just more problems with Korea. That and immature people." Grandfather sighs. I sigh along, although I don't really get what's going on in Korea; Even if I am smart for my age.

"Immaturity gets you nowhere Kiana." Grandfather tells.

"You're right sir." I say.

"Here darling." Grandmother says placing breakfast out before me. Always the same small serving of sunny side up eggs. She doesn't understand how big my appetite is. It's like she's trying to starve me.

"Thank you." I say anyway. I recite a quick prayer, like they taught me, before I eat. When I am done I pull out my pictures and place them on the table.

"I was wondering if you could help me?" I ask.

"Of course darling what do you need?" Grandmother asks.

"Do you know who this man is?" I question pointing to the photos. The loudest scream is emitted from grandmother's lips, causing her to drop her plate on the floor. Her manicured fingernails snatch the pictures from the table.

"Where on earth did you get these!?!" She shrieks.

"I found them upstairs." I tell, feeling smaller than a hamster.

"Good heavens what were they doing there?" She asks, "Henry!"

"Yes?" Grandfather asks.

"How did she get these?" She questions.

"Where did you find these!" Grandfather bellows.

"Upstairs in a closet." I squeak terrified.

"Go upstairs to your room! Don't come down until I tell you!" He yells. I whimper and run upstairs to my room crying. I run into the closet first and grab my mother's photo album and charm bracelet before running back into my room and collapsing on the bed. I slide the charm bracelet my mother never took off and died wearing around my wrist and squeeze the album to my chest. My body is rocked with sobs as I try to stop crying. Grandfather's yells were terrifying enough to make you want to run as far away as you can. I wanted my mother and her warm smile, her bright laugh, her kind words.

"Mommy I miss you." I whisper in between sobs. It's not like she can hear me. Who knows, maybe she can hear me from heaven. Maybe her angel is sitting next to me now and hugging me. I conjur up such an image of her being there that it almost feels like she is. Until I turn and she's not. I'm still parentless.