a long way from home ; g.d.

t w e n t y - e i g h t

With her was my Uncle Marcus and a cap. All three of them had their arms crossed, staring at me like they were about to tear me to shreds. I couldn't even find the words to speak. I was in utter shock. How did they even get in?

"Are you Chavelle Jordan?" The cop asked. I nodded, feeling a lump in my throat growing by the second. "Are you aware that there is an amber alert out for you right now?"

I nodded again. "But I'm 18, sir. I'm not a child."

"You don't have to speak, Chavelle. Let's just go," my mother said. She walked across the room towards me, trying to push me out of the room. "Marcus will get your bags." I stood my ground, and pushed her off of me. "My bags aren't in here, mom."

She sighed and went back to her spot across the room. I took a few steps in, leaning against the wall. "Then where the hell are they?" She asked. I stayed silent and turned to my uncle and the cop. "Can I please speak to my mother alone?"

They both hesitated but headed for the door. The cop explained that he would need a little more information before he could actually leave, and my uncle said he'd explain everything in the hall. Once they were gone, my mom turned to me. "So, your bags?"

"In my boyfriend's apartment," I responded.

She scoffed. "Boyfriend?"

I nodded. "I met someone."

"Oh, really?"

I rolled my eyes and ran my hands through my hair out of stress. We weren't gonna handle this situation like this, I refused. "Look, mom, I know you and I have had our differences, but I already know this situation beats all of them. So can we please just sit down and try to handle this like adults? Because I'm done fighting with you like a child."

She hesitated at first, then nodded. We both took a seat on the bed. "I'd like an explanation as to why you decided to run away. Please."

My whole time here, I'd been trying to put the answer to that question in to the right words. Not so that I could answer it, just for my own well being. Why had I actually done it?

"Because I was miserable, mom," I said softly. "You made me feel like absolute garbage about myself every single day. Everything I did was either wrong, or not good enough. Everything I said turned into a lecture, I mean I felt like I was living with my demonic alter ego or something. Like the little voice inside my head had come to life."

Her face grew softer, and the anger I saw in her eyes when I first saw her slowly began to fade away. "Why didn't you talk to me..."

"I, I didn't know how. I mean, you always pushed me to the side. Everytime I had a problem, I had to handle it on my own because I felt like you'd blame me for it," the pain in my heart grew more intense as I realized what I was about to say before I even said it. "I felt like you hated me."

Her eyes shut, and tears fell from them instantly. She dropped her face in her hands and stayed there for what felt like hours. I didn't know what to say, I didn't even want to move, or breathe to loud. She raised her head back up, but her chin was rested on her fists.

"I could never, ever, hate you Chavelle."

"Then why am I not enough for you," I said in a shaky voice. My vision began to grow blurry.

"You, were always enough!" She yelled, standing up and pointing a finger at me. She was so overcome with emotion that you could basically see it radiating from her.

"You're my daughter. And even though I might've never planned on having a second child, does not mean I love you any less than your brother, or less in general. You have no clue how hard it is raising a teenage girl. I had no clue what I was doing. I never knew how to talk to you or what you were feeling, I-"

Her voice began to break and she fell back down on the bed, her face falling right back into her hands. She was crying. I have never, ever, seen her cry before. About anything.

"I was so worried," she sobbed out, finally. "I thought you were dead, or kidnapped. I couldn't sleep, I couldn't eat, I was just so scared." Her sobs and her voice became louder and louder with every word.

Remember how I used to say I regretted running away and coming to New York in the first place? Well, I don't anymore. What I truly regret is the way I treated my mom and talked about her while I was here.

I made it seem to Ethan, James, Emma, and Grayson that she was a crazy, selfish, witch that only wanted me around so that she could make my life miserable, but I see now how wrong I was.

No one could fake her reaction right now. I felt a deep stab of pain with every sob she let out, until the point where I just wanted to hug her for the rest of my life and never leave her arms again.

But I knew I couldn't do that, so I started out small. I reached over and wrapped my arm around her shoulder, and right as I touched her, she turned to face me and wrapped both arms around me, sobbing into my shoulder. I hugged her back, and let my tears fall onto her sweater.

We stayed like this for a very long time, until I pulled back and looked her im the eyes. "Mom, I'm so, so, sorry. For everything. For everything I said on the phone, for leaving the way I did, all of it."

She shook her head, wiping the excess tears off of her face. She sniffed and let out a long breath, dropping her head to hands, which were folded on her lap.

"No, Elle, I'm sorry. About a week after we found out you were in New York, I had a long talk with your father about reasons why you could've left, he helped me realized that it was mostly because of me. Every bad thing I've ever done or said to you, just hit me like a truck. I felt horrible about myself, and that was probably why I always sounded so angry over the phone: because I was angry at myself. For making my daughter, the pride and joy of my life, feel like she was useless. I belittled you every chance I got, and I will never be able to apologize enough for the way I made you feel. I hope you can forgive me." More tears fell from her face as she spoke.

"I love you mom, and I forgive you," I sobbed out, almost unable to catch my breath.

We hugged each other once more, then each took a few deep breaths. Right as she was about to speak, Grayson walked in, calling my name.

"Elle? Elle? You in here? I found your pho-"

He was cut off by seeing the two of us sitting there, and I could tell he immediately knew who she was. His eyes were wide, and he gulped loudly. "Mom," I said quietly, wiping my nose. "This is Grayson."

She removed her eyes from me and looked over at him, still wiping her face off. "Hello."

He smiled at her briefly. "Hello, Mrs. Jordan."

I nodded my head in the direction of the door and he sprinted out, shutting the door behind himself.

"Is he?" She asked, pointing in his direction. I nodded. I deded to hold off on telling her about L.A., just for a while. I realized now that what I really needed was to fix this already very fragile relationship with my mom, and I knew I would never be able to forgive myself if I went to L.A. knowing we were still on bad terms.

"We should go to lunch," I said, rubbing her shoulder and smiling through more tears. She nodded. "I'd like that."