Regrets For Ages

Rose's Past

This chapter deals with mature themes that may not be safe for younger audiences or people who actually had this happen to them. This is a fictional recreation to what might've happened to someone in real life. This is a work of fiction and is not real in any sense. 

Thank you for your caution, Naya.

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My earliest memory that I have was when my mother told me of what happened Dad left. I remember going up to her and asking "Where's my Papa, why don't I have one like everyone else?"

"You have a Papa, dear. Just not here. I'm acting as your Papa for now."

The next thing I know, I'm in my bed, in my old room. "Mama, what happened to Papa?"

"He just left, sweetheart. He couldn't handle you, sweetheart. You were just too much."

Up until almost 5 years ago, I didn't know what actually happened to Dad. Mom told me before she died. Her last phone call, her last words. 

This is my telling of November 4th, 2015.

My mom called me that afternoon form the police station, saying she did something horrible, She told me she trusted me. She told me she loved me. She told me what she did and what really happened with Dad. 

"Rosabear, this is for your own good. I'm calling you from the police station because they found out what I did. They found out what happened and I've left you blindsided on everything. This could very well be my last time talking to you, so I have to explain everything. I don't care if I'm going to regret everything. You deserve to know, hon." The second I answered, she belted out crying. 

"I'm sorry, Mama. I don't know what you're talking about." I replied, scared. I had never heard my mother cry before, and I was 12, almost 13, at the time. I just got my phone and didn't know what was happening and really didn't wanna know. 

"Rose, I'm sorry. You really know what happened to your father. And what I did, and what happened to get me to that point. This story is about you, and me, and your family. I'm sorry for any backlash you get because of this. I do love you, Rosabear, I do. 

"It all began when I met your father in the winter of 1990, years before you were born, or I graduated high school. Your father was the one and only person I had truly loved back then. My parents fought and I was struggling through their divorce. Your father helped me. His name was Ash. Interesting name for the 90's, I know. We were both 14 at the time, not much older than you now. We were young, attractive, and high school students in the 90's. I bet you can assume what happened next without me telling you." 

"You became best friends, then more than friends, then dating, then you were 16 and you guys made a mistake and had me?" I had read enough stories to know how this went. 

"Yes, admittedly, I really wasn't conscience when this happened. 4 months later, my mother noticed something I didn't. She told me I looked as if I was gaining weight. Ash smirked, as he was right next to me at the dinner table.

"I had an outburst with your father out of the house, the neighbors and joggers stared at us and knew what we were in for. I told him to leave afterwards. I could almost sense the regret in the air after he walked away. This is what I get for being foolish. 

"After I had you, my mother sent me out of the house, and I was on the streets with a newborn and no real future ahead of me."

"There's no way I was born homeless, right Mama?" I was on the brink of tears. I felt my face heat up and tears well up in my eyes. "Mama?"

Her time was up. She was gone forever... maybe. I broke into tears. I was officially alone. 

I called the police station and asked them where my mom was. 

"911, what's your emergency?" The dispatcher on the other line was a woman, on the younger side. 

"Ma'am, I'm so sorry to bother you with my stupid questions, but is there anyone at your police station named Catia Quintin? She's my mom, and I have no other people at home with me or anyone to call."

"Oh, sweetheart, you'll be okay. Do you know what happened to get her here? What is she in for?"

"That's the thing, I don't know. She called me from there and hung up a few minutes ago." My tears had just left and were coming for the second attack of the day. "My name is Rose Quintin. I'm scared and have no contact with any of my mom or dad's family. All I know about my dad is his name."

"Alright, we're getting somewhere! What's his name, dear?" The dispatcher was confident in getting me to my mom, and I appreciated it among my tiny crisis. 

"His name is Ash Veer."

"Oh..." She stopped as soon as she heard what I said. 

"What? Did I say something wrong...?" I became frantic and worried. I fanned my face with my hand, trying to cool off.

"Dear, do you want someone to talk to? I'd gladly explain everything. Just give me your phone number please..."

"O-okay..."

I gave the woman my phone number. 

The woman's name was Dolly, my hairdresser. She's an average New York accented black woman, and sassy as heck. She was working part-time as she attended cosmetology school.

When I met her in real life, she told me my father had died from a murder spree with only him as the victim. They landed on my mother for the killer because of what happened before he died.

That's what happened on November 4th, 2015. At least what happened to me. 

~Rose Mae Quintin