Trail, To the Past

Chapter Two : He

- It's not love. It's a lie.

Jo's mother, Jane Galaxie was not healthy when she heard the death of her husband. The woman, who just started her thirties, could remember that afternoon so clearly. Little Jo had told her father to take her to the park. It was suppose to be an ordinary afternoon like others, but when the two were driving on road, there was a sleepy driver and killed Tom Galaxie. Fortunately, the little girl at the back was still breathing hard when they found her under the pieces of two crashed cars. Tom Galaxie left life at the age 30, leaving all his properties for his family, Jane and Jo.

- Ever since that day, my life became nightmares.

Jane was transferred to a hospital after fainting when she heard the news. But all she cared was her man, but not the girl whose blood was partly his. Even when her mother, her father, even her parents-in-laws explained everything, the miserable widow kept crying and claiming that her daughter killed the person she loved the most.

On this world.

- I was not happy to be alive. It was like living in hell, being captured in a small attic, and could only see the time passing with people being happy with out me.

Jo knew her life was starting to turn bad, as her mother would not like to see her, and if she did, Jo always got a slap or mean statements, moaning about that damn afternoon. It hurt a lot to realize her own loving mother had turned into such a person, working and locking herself into a room working like a robot, couldn't even get out of the books and notes. Seeing all of this, the little girl agreed to try to keep the peaceful atmosphere in the house.

- It aches, my heart I mean, having to act like I am totally invisible when I am not, and still, Jane see me, ready for another slap if I dare to say a thing. Sometimes I have this thought, the thought that I should have died in that accident years ago, with my father under those big metal pieces.

Never did the scars in that innocent girl get healed. The only thing that comfort her and distracted her from thinking too much was doing all the chores. There were no laughter in the big house, but silence, and the stressed atmosphere, just because of a dead member. Crying brings nothing, only noise pollution, and Jo knew that as she celebrated her birthdays alone on the attic alone for years, with a small piece of bread and water, with a small lighten candle that would be off soon because of the wind blowing in.

And it was like every other meal after Tom Galaxie died, in a car crash.