Destined Demons

Chapter Fifty-Three | Chocolate Chip Cookies

ALAINA'S POV

Eliza sits on the couch across from me as I stare at her with wide, unsure eyes. She shifts nervously under my gaze and crosses her legs.

"You're not pregnant, are you?" She cringes and my eyes widen, and I begin coughing violently like I had when Gabby called me Noah's girlfriend.

"No! I'm not pregnant!" I scream at her and she holds her hands up. "We—We haven't even done th-that yet! I'm still a virgin, Liza!"

"Okay! Okay! Then what is this all about?!" She yells back at me.

"This is about..." I mumble as I try to figure out where to start. I know that I don't want to tell her every single detail about my life, but I know that I have to tell her the main points. "This is about me..."

"You? What about you?" Her brow arches.

My eyes flicker up to her, trying to come up with a way of easing into all the craziness. I suddenly get an idea of how to do it, which will benefit the both of us. "Do you remember what I was like when I was little kid?" I ask.

Her face contorts in confusion and she nods slowly. "You were incredibly hyperactive," she states. "Always had chocolate on your face."

"Okay, besides that," I say, my cheeks turning red. "Anything...weird?"

"Weird?" Her brows furrow. "I mean...you used to have a lot of imaginary friends. More than any other kid I've ever heard talk about. I think you're best imaginary friend was named 'Dayle'," she tells me and I stare at her with squinted eyes. "I don't recall the gender, just the name. I think you were...ten when you stopped talking about Dayle. It was strange, really, since every day you would talk about them."

"When I was ten?" My brows furrow and her eyes soften.

Eliza nods slowly, "It was around the time your mother disappeared."

My eyes dart down to my hands so that she won't be able to see how much that statement affected me. I don't like talking about my mom, doesn't matter who is talking about her, I hate it. I hate thinking of her and I hate it when she penetrates my dreams and turns them into nightmares. I remember every single aspect of her since she enters my mind every day; her long, blonde hair and brown eyes, her soft hands and smooth skin, her calming voice. I hate that I remember her so perfectly and I wish I didn't.

"It was right before your father took you and Jessie away," she states, pulling me out of my thoughts. "One day your mother and Dayle were there, and the next...they were gone. Everyone was looking for your mother and since your attention was diverted from Dayle...I guess they disappeared from your imagination altogether."

I feel my eyes beginning to sting and I continue to stare at my hands. "Did my father look for her?" I ask, trying to keep my voice steady as I talk about both of my parents, two people that I have despised for as long as I can remember.

"Marcus?" She whispers, brows raising into her hairline. "Of course he did, he was terrified beyond belief about her. And when she didn't come home...he was heartbroken."

"Heartbroken enough to take his kids and get the hell out of town..." I mumble.

"Grief makes a person do awful things, Alaina," she states and that tugs at my heart. All of the times my father hit me or kicked me or did something else altogether and I cringe, my eyes squeezing shut.

"Yeah, I know."

When I look back up at her, I find her eyes sad. "Your mother and father were such good people," she claims and I roll my eyes, wishing I was strong enough to tell her what happened back in Fort Haven every single day. "It's terrible what happened to them. Jessie too." She pauses for a moment and her brows draw together. "Is this what you wanted to talk about? Your mother?"