In the attic of Jade's childhood was an old trunk, locked. And even though she couldn't pry it open, nor did she have the key, the muffled sobs coming from inside told her more than she wanted to remember.
☆ Winner of The Fiction Awards 2019 ☆
🌼...
Oops! This image does not follow our content guidelines. To continue publishing, please remove it or upload a different image.
I hoisted myself on the kitchen counter, knowing I'd get a scolding from my brothers if they caught me. Opening the cupboards, I grabbed a bowl and the box of Frosted Flakes. Jumping off the counter, I proceeded to grab the carton of milk before sitting down at the kitchen table. I was about to put a spoonful of the cereal in my mouth when the phone suddenly rang.
I frowned. Who in the world calls at five thirty in the morning?
I picked up. "Hello?"
"Is this the Moore's residence?"
"Yes it is. Who is this?" I didn't recognize the woman's voice.
"Oh, this is the St. Elisabeth hospital calling. Is Mr. Moore present?"
I brushed the hair out of my face and adjusted the phone against my ear. "He's still asleep. Is it urgent?"
"It is, yes. Who am I speaking to?"
"I'm Jade, Jordan's-I mean Mr. Moore's younger sister."
"Oh, well in that case," the woman cleared her throat. "Do you happen to know anyone by the name of Carla, Carla Bennett?"
My heart suddenly stopped. "Yes," my voice broke, "Yes, she's our mother. Is she alright?"
There suddenly was a silence, it was deafening.
"Ma'am?"
"Yes, I'm here. Uh, someone brought your mother in an hour ago. She was in bad shape and needed medical care but ..."
"Jade."
I gulped, my lips trembling. "But what?"
"There was a disturbing amount of alcohol and drugs in her system. We did everything we could to help her - I'm sorry."
"Jade!"
"Sorry for what?" my voice was shaking, too scared to ask.
"She didn't make it."
"JADE!"
I woke up with a start, panting and feeling my heart beating against my chest.
"Jade?" Tristan brushed the hair out of my face, his hand lingering on my cheek. "You alright, baby girl?"
I nodded, catching my breath as I rubbed my eyes.
"Why are you crying?" he asked, concerned.
I lifted my hand up to feel the wetness on my cheek. I quickly wiped it away. "It's nothing, just a bad dream."
He continued stroking my hair as he looked down at me with soft eyes. "Do you wanna talk about it? What was it about?"
"I don't remember," I lied. I rubbed at my eyes once more and that's when confusion settled. "Wait - Tristan? What are you doing here?"
