Lauren Sanders is struggling to rebuild her life with her aunt and cousin after her family's tragic death. But what no one knows is the truth about two things: how her parents really died and her battle with schizophrenia.
One day, Lauren stumbles...
Oops! This image does not follow our content guidelines. To continue publishing, please remove it or upload a different image.
"What are you doing here?" I say sharply. My face scowls at the sight of my dad. I clenched my fists, fighting back the urge to punch him right in the face.
Jonathan runs down the stairs, holding a small box in his hand, and there was a huge smile on his face. It was the first time I have seen my brother smile like that—a smile that reaches from ear to ear.
"Thank you for the phone, Dad!" Jonathan jumps at my dad, hugging him.
I continue to stare at my dad, furious that he was here. He smiles at me. It's apparent that it wasn't a genuine one.
"Aaren, your home," My mom's head pops into the living room doorframe. She smiles at me genuinely.
I look at her, not knowing whether to be mad or try to be understanding for letting dad into our home.
"What's he doing here?" I point at my dad as if he were an inanimate object that my mom bought online from surfing craigslist at five in the morning.
"I just—"
"I wasn't talking to you," I immediately cut him off. Just the sound of his voice irritates me. "Have you gone mad and invited the devil into our home?"
My mom sighs, shaking her fury before it takes a toll on her, "That's not the right way to talk about your dad," she says softly.
My mom quickly grabs my hand and drags me across the room, entering the kitchen. She rests both of her hands on the kitchen island, and her back turned on me.
"What?" I say as irritation quickly pricked on me, "You want me to encourage the fact that he left and just went back here?" I chuckled bitterly.
My mom turns her heel around and faces me.
"Or you want me to be thankful that he went back after cheating on you?" I say in a low, soft voice. Trying to mask the pain the moment I saw my dad again. The only emotion I've never wanted to claim for myself is that being in pain makes it seem vulnerable.
I continue to speak, "Are you just going to keep letting him in, then I'll keep on watching you get hurt after he leaves you again?"
After six months away from our father and relocating to a new town in California, my father made a surprise visit to our home in San Diego, which my mother had purchased. He remained with us. He promised my mother that he'd try to be better, which made me and Jonathan thrilled at the thought of being together as a family once again.
He left on a Sunday morning after three months of staying in our house. I overheard him on the phone with a woman he addressed as 'babe.' He didn't say goodbye to my mother, Jonathan, nor me. I just stood there watching him walk away in silence as if he were attempting to flee after stealing something from our house.
My mother cried herself to sleep, not understanding why he had abandoned us once again. She slept on the couch in the living room for two weeks, wishing and waiting that my father would return, but he never did.
