Secrets My Father Told Me.

I remember when my mother died.

I remember it well.

I was six years old when she died on September 17th, 2001.

"Serenity Riley, get yourself on inside, it's time for some lunch." Mother crooned. Her southeren beauty brightened the room when she was near. I groan, it escapes my lips. I was too 'busy' setting up a tea party outside on the patio. Six years old, the age of princesses, and gumdrops. My hair was a pure shade of brown, like Father's, but highlights of Mother's blonde hair showed through. I walked to the table, looking up at Mother's face. Her blue eyes glanced down at me, her smile brightening the mood in the room. I felt comfort when Mother was the room. Her birth name was Sarah Jenkins, but it changed to Riley after she married Father, James Riley. She was from Alabama. Her blonde locks glowed in the sunlight, flowing down her sleek slender frame. Let me tell you, she was a real woman. She always seemed to look for the happy ending, with the house, husband, kids and picket fence. I loved that form of her. She had always seemed on the bright side, though, sometimes, Father brought her down.

"What did you make, Mommy?" I asked, curiosity filled in my little high-pitched voice.

"I made your favorite, eggs and sausage." Mother smiled.

"Thank you, Mommy!"

"Of course, anything for my baby doll." Mother's eyes fixated on the room, then at the doorframe. She asked the same question with her eyes like I asked with my mind. Where's Father. I really never had to ask, because when I did, it made Mother upset.

Father was a huge drinker. His addiction started after he lost his first job as an Attorney for a huge Virginia business, where we lived. It started only with a few beers. But then, Father turned to Vodka, Hessenney, any liquour he could scramble to drink in his mouth. Father did have work, but he was stressed a lot of the time, putting us through a dispair of disbelief when Father first came home around 5 in the morning, drunk as a sailor. It then became weekly, monthly even. I've never seen Father sober after that, unless he runs out of liquour. 

He stumbled through the doorframe, eyes bloodshot and his hair a mess. I tried not to focus on him, as I struggled to place the eggs in my mouth. Father's eyes looked like he had been compelled by a sudden rage, and it was towards Mother.

"Why are you and Ren-Ren's clothes packed up?" Father's words quivered in sadness at first, then shook in anger. Mother's face tensed. I looked at Mother, almost afraid of what was going to happen.  I heaved all the food from my plate in my mouth and tried to gulp down my orange juice.

"It's not what you think, honey...." Mother spoke, the frightened tone putting me in a shock, as I hid behind the other doorframe. Father striked Mother, a hard blow to her stomach, as she then crouched down on the floor, holding her stomach, heaving for breath. I held back a scream as I hid myself more behind the frame. Mother struggled, but finally managed to get up. Father's eyes flared in anger, that his hands grabbed Mother's locks, hearing a yelp and a scream echo in the kitchen. My eyes exploded the tears that boiled inside of me. I was used to the outrage, of Father's anger, but never like this. Never towards Mother.

"You're never leaving, not if you're going to stay here." He opened the drawer, pulling out his favorite butcher knife. Mother begged, tears streamed down her and my face, our hearts connecting for the split second before her last breath and eyes were looking at me, mouthing, 'I love-'. I watched Mother get dragged out of the room. Then, Father re-enters, walking up to me. I hid my face, covering my nose as well. His breath reeked of alcohol and cigars. I looked at him.

"You have to keep this a secret, or Daddy won't love you anymore, okay?" Father spoke.

I had nothing to say. This man had just killed my mother, my life changing completely. I looked at Father, speechless.

I had no other response, but a nod.

That's how it all began. How the secrets kept us together.

How my mother died.

How, from there on, I didn't know what life had in store for me.

When I turned ten, I dyed my hair with a lavender hair dye, permanently keeping it this way.

In memory of Mother, I wore her Violet colored ribbon, making it into a bow.

I never knew how we still could live with each other. Father and I.

It just, worked.