Where the Story Ends (ending to the Story of Her Life trilogy)

Epilogue

Darci's P.O.V.

I could hear my parent's hushed voices on the other side of the paper thin wall. I didn't know what they were saying, but I knew what they were talking about. Me.

Or should I really say, my dad. It's the same fight over and over. It begins with my dad and lands to me, but in the end neither of my parents win the argument.

I try to block them out, but their whispers are deafening. If it weren't for them, then the house would be silent.

//\\

I walk into the kitchen, where my mother is alone.

"Mum? Are you and Dad going to... uh split up?" I didn't want to be one of those kids that asked every time their parents fought, but this time it had become real. There was screaming, and swearing, and things were thrown, and doors were slammed.

"No, darling, we just are not seeing eye to eye at the moment." she didn't even look up from washing the dishes.

"That's because you're so much shorter than him." she shot me a glare, suggesting that I don't get smart with her. "Sorry."

"Why aren't you wearing your wedding ring?" I asked her.

"Because I'm washing the dishes."

"You don't usually take off your ring when you wash dishes." I stated, showing the flaw in her lie.

I knew where it really was. I heard what she had said.

"Damn it, Harold, why aren't you listening to me?"

"Why aren't you listening to me? I don't have a choice. I have to go." he hadn't been listening to what she was trying to say. He was to caught up in what he was saying.

"That's not it! And you'd know that if you were listening to me!"

I heard heavy footsteps leading toward the from door.

"Where are you going?" her voice cracked.

"Somewhere where someone will listen to me, and somewhere where someone has something worth listening to."

"Fine, then take this ring with you!" I like to think that if you listened really carefully, then you could've heard the rings bounce off the wall.

I jumped when the door slammed behind my dad. I waited and listened to him drive away from the house.

"Where's Dad?" I kept poking answers from her.

"He'll be home soon." she didn't answer my question.

"But where is he?" I wanted to know what she'd say.

"He's... out." well thanks I would've never guessed.

"What were you going to tell Dad, before he... went out?" I felt like I already knew, but I wanted her to say it.

"I think we should wait for your father to get home. I don't want to repeat myself."

I heard the door open and footsteps coming to the kitchen.

"Harry?" it wasn't my father. It was Uncle Lou. He looked at me. "Hey, where's your Dad?"

"That's the best question I've heard all day. How about you ask my mother?" I slumped on the sofa in the family room, still able to hear them talking from the kitchen.

"Is she okay? She seems kind of-"

"Like you?" she finished for him.

"Yeah? What's going on around here?"