Saturday, October 7, 2023

The Hidden Family Secret

Before reading this story, please go read the Trigger Warning Page. If you don't read the trigger warning page, then please keep your thoughts to yourself.

"Grandpa. I want to see Mom and Grandma," I say, stepping back away from the stairs.

"You know I can't let you do that," he says, pushing back from the table and standing up. "Kay, I need you to understand that it is not safe to see them."

"Why not. You told me that My mom and grandma are in a mental hospital? what is so unsafe about it?" I stare at him. How is it fair to keep my mother's only child away from her? How is it fair to keep me away from my mother? She never hurt me.

"It's not safe," he says again, raising his hand and holding the door. "I will never let you see them. They are not safe to be around. You need to stay with me. I can't let anything happen to my only family." he says, closing the door. I stare at the now-closed door. The only family?

"My mom and grandmother are your family as well," I yell at him through the closed door. "I'm not the only family you have." The door swings open, making me take a step back.

"Not after what they did." He growls out, and I stare at him. Why can't he tell the truth instead of giving me this damn runaround?

"What did they do so wrong?" I ask, stepping closer to him. He looks down at me with so much anger in his eyes.

"You are so much like your mother when she was your age. Thinking she needed to know everything, but just like her, you don't need to know everything," he growls, turns, picks up his plate off his oak desk, and walks right past me into the kitchen. I follow him as he sets the plate down in the sink. "You just need to trust that I know what is best for you."

"Why can't you tell me the truth? I am old enough to know what they did. After all, it is my mother. I'm also 20 years old." I yell, getting pissed. I'm tired of being told I need to trust him. How can I trust someone who won't tell me the truth? He turns around quickly and walks towards me. Stopping in front of me. If I wasn't pissed off, I would've seen that I pushed him too far again.

"You are not to yell at me." he snaps, yanking me off the ground by my arm. "I am the adult, and you are the child. You need to understand your place." he drops me onto my feet, making my knees give away from underneath me. He slaps me and crosses my face as I struggle to keep my balance. My eyes widen as the stinging starts, tears falling down my face. He looks at me and says, "I know more than you do I know things that they did. Things that you will never know about as long as I am breathing, " then he storms out of the room. He just hit me. All I want to do is to see my mom.

Is that so wrong? I lean against the door frame, trying to keep myself from sobbing. I hear the front door open and then slam shut. I'm alone. I walk towards the stairs with my head held down. I can't even look around the stairs. There are so many photos of me as a child, happy. I was always smiling, hardly ever sad. When I get upstairs, I look at the bathroom door; I should see what damage he has done to my face this time. I don't want to look, but I must splash water on my face. As I walked into the bathroom, I looked into the mirror and saw a faint handprint on my left cheek.

Shit, that's going to bruise. I splash water onto my face and grab a hand towel. As I dab it on my face, I wince as I dab it over the bruise. I walk into my room and let myself fall onto my bed. I roll up, making myself a burrito with my black fuzzy blanket. I let myself sob, not holding back anymore. Why did he have to hit me? Did I do something so wrong that he couldn't hold back and not hit me? I feel myself dozing off. "Kay, please wake up." I hear my grandpa's broken voice in my sleep. There was a soft knock, and then the door opened.

"I don't want to talk," I mumble. I regretted it immediately when my blanket was taken from me. I snap up into a sitting position. "What? I'm not allowed to sleep either?" I growl. He bows his head. Why can't I just be nice to him after he is an ass to me? I feel myself feeling like shit. I shouldn't growl at him. He looks so sorry.

"I'm sorry for earlier. I don't know what came over me." He sounds like he is trying to hold back tears.

"Okay. Your point is?" I keep my voice as clear as I can. Hurt flashed across his face. "Are we done?" I say, taking a deep breath so I don't cry.

"No, we are not done. I need you to come with me." My grandpa walks towards my door. Ugg. I look at the clock; it reads 2:30 a.m. What the Fuck? "Watch your mouth, young lady."

Oh shit. I said that out loud. "I'm sorry," I say as I leave my warm bed. The moment my feet hit the hardwood floor, I started freezing. I follow behind him. "Where are we going?" I ask as we walk downstairs.

"You want to know what they did? I'm going to show you," I pause as he says this and walks out the front door. What the hell changed? He was hell-bent on me never finding out. The curiosity of finding out overtakes me, making me follow him outside. I wrap my arms around me when I get outside as the cold winter breeze flows across my body. I look around and past someone, but my eyes snap back to the person, and I see a very handsome man standing at the end of the driveway. "Please stay down there. You know you are not allowed any closer." Grandpa says. I look at my grandpa.

"Who is he?" I ask, looking back at the man.

"He is your husband when you turn 22. They signed a contract on your behalf. They sold you to him when you were about 2 months old." he says. My head snaps to my grandpa with tears rolling down his face. "All for his money." you could hear the anger in his voice. "That's what they did. You've seen her; she's seen you now leave." My grandpa says, pushing me into the house and slamming the door shut. I watch him closely, and he mutters something I can't understand into his phone, but it sounds like Latin. As he turns towards me and touches my face, my knees give out from underneath me, and everything goes black.

"Kay," someone yells from the other side of my door. Making me jolt awake from my sleep. I look over at my laptop and see it is still open on my lap, with my half-written English paper on the screen. God, damnit, why can't that dream go away? The weird thing is that it feels like a memory and not a dream. I've tried to talk to Grandpa about it, but he just shrugs it off and says I have an overactive imagination. "Kay, can you come here?" I hear my grandpa say. Great, I turn 22 tomorrow.

"Coming." I close my laptop, hopping off my bed. As I make my way downstairs, I see a guy. Holly shit, he is sexy. "I'm not trying to be rude, but -"

"Then don't say anything." My grandpa snaps. Turn towards the kitchen and see him standing there with three cups on a tray. I rush over to him.

"Let me get this. You're not allowed to be standing," I growl. The guy takes the tray from me as he laughs. I grab my grandpa's arm, walking him into the living room.

1 hour of writing from a picture

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