Naturally

Naturally (A Jacob Black Story) -13-

I finally made it out of the kitchen and leaned over the railing overlooking both stairs and the full foyer. There no one in sight but I heard rustling downstairs and soft cries. A shadow escaped the blackness of the basement and I lowered my head. Coming out of the basement first was a woman, tall but not slender with cascading black hair falling over her shoulders. She turned around and looked downwards at the upcoming shadow following her. Her face was red with tears but held no gentleness or vulnerability like I'd expect from someone who suffered a loss. Instead she had hardness and a solid hatred on her face and it scared me. Not because of how hostile she looked but because the expression was familiar to me on so many occasions. My mother wore the dreadful mask almost every day. 

I gasped when I recognized the man who had left the downstairs but neither of them looked up. He was my father but he looked so much younger, exactly like he did in the photographs in his office that I would look at when I was younger. His hair was thicker but the same dirty blond and his skin, though covered fully by jeans and an army-themed jacket, was much paler than I remembered when I glanced at his grim-stricken face. His eyes, abyss tainted blue, were sullen and cold, far different from when I was a child.

"You let him escape!" The woman yelled much like my mother.  "Why did you let him leave after what he did to Jenna?"

Chris- my father- didn't change his sullen expression and looked at her sadly. "There was nothing I could do to stop him, Ava." My heart stopped. Ava was my mom. It wasn't just a coincidence. "I'm just a human. I couldn't have taken him on without sharing the same fate as your sister. Even if I could, I would never forgive myself for taking away Marisol's only parent left." I leaned in closer, trying to hear anything else. I couldn't make sense of this. Wasn't Chris my dad? Wasn't Ava my mom, too?

"That monster killed Jenna! That's not a parent, that's a murderer. He killed her mother, my sister!" My throat burned my eyes stung. This was too much for me to take. Ava wasn't my mother, she was my aunt. Chris wasn't my father but I already suspected that a long time ago when I noticed the significant differences between him and me. My burning question was the most important one: Who were my real parents?  Ava said Jenna was my mother and Jenna was killed by someone or something Chris insisted was my father.

My mind was distracted but that didn't mean I was unaware of my surroundings. My ears caught the sound of a cabinet squeaking and I turned around the see the child sneak out of the kitchen. Her steps were weary but she was determined to walk. I slid further away from the stairway and towards the kid. I didn't want to be seen so I settled with frantic hand motions but she didn't mind me and continued to walk. I slid over to the side to block her path. "Stop it," I whispered, grabbing the girl's arm but she squirmed and made a loud racket that caught the attention of Ava and probably Chris, too, but she was the one who spoke up.

"Marisol!" She cried out and I freaked. She knew I was there and I grabbed the kid's arm trying to find a hiding place back into the kitchen but the girl screamed and hollered and I had to let her go. I didn't make it in time to hide before Ava hopped up the stairs. She didn't even notice me. No, she went straight for the girl and hugged her just as I did when I pulled her out from behind the couch. "Marisol," she sighed in relief. "Chris!" She called from downstairs. I took the chance and bolted behind the countertop. "Marisol's okay but she looks scared," Ava cooed. I stretched my neck an inch to view them and knew I was safe from sight. They didn't mean me when they called my name. They meant the little girl who was happily cuddled in Ava's arms. I tried to piece together this odd dream while they comforted my three and a half year old self.

This would be nineteen years ago. I never remembered it and I guessed I wouldn't because psychologically traumatic memories tended to be pushed aside and forgotten but if my mother was murdered wouldn't I have remembered her, at least her voice anyways? Then again many people don't remember their first four years but seriously, who forgets their mother? Ava and Chris witnessed my father slipping away from my dead mother's corpse. I couldn't truly believe he murdered my real mom without proof. But I had so many unanswered questions. Who or what was my father? Why haven't I heard about him? Why didn't Ava even mention my mother to me? In fact why did she treat me as horribly as she did? Shouldn't she love me as her sister's daughter, as her niece? Why didn't she? Was I to blame for my mother's death or did she just take all her grief on me for the next thirteen years? Chris seemed nice but what did he know about my poor family situation? Obviously he seen my dead mother and knew her relationship with Ava. What was Ava's relationship with my mom anyways? She seemed pretty distraught about mom's death.