Total pages in book: 85
Estimated words: 78438 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 392(@200wpm)___ 314(@250wpm)___ 261(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 78438 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 392(@200wpm)___ 314(@250wpm)___ 261(@300wpm)
I pull away from the door just as the pounding starts. I know if he truly wants to be in this room, he could get in.
“Leave. Go away. I hate you,” I scream, placing my hands over my ears to rid myself of the noise.
“Amara, stop being childish.” I can hear the terror in his voice. He thought he was losing me. Good. He needs to. He needs to know I am out of his grasp.
“Childish? Childish? First, you hold a gun to my head because your asshole employee lies. That was the first time you betrayed me. Then, you don’t come for me for weeks. Weeks! Then you put a gun to my head AGAIN, threaten to kill me, cut me with your knife, and kill my father in front of me. And now you have the audacity to call my behavior childish?” I scream, standing to turn the shower on. I allow the water to run, making the bathroom fill with steam.
“You are delusional, and I don’t know why I’m here. You already took everything from me. I’d rather be dead than here with you, and don’t think that I won’t do everything I can to kill you the first chance I get.”
“I’ll leave you alone for now, but later, we need to talk.” He sounds so full of himself. He doesn’t know me—not like I thought anyway. Ignoring him, I slip into the hot steam and arch into the water—God, how long has it been since I had a decent wipe down... since I had actually been clean?
Though the hot water is pouring down over me, my tears still stain my cheeks. John wasn’t my father… I sink to the bottom of the tub, my heart and mind aching as I place my hand on my chest. I can feel the chain beneath my fingertips, and the weight of the heart dangling against my chest.
It has become heavy as if it is carrying the weight of my sorrows. I can feel every muscle in my body tense up as I wrap my fist around the heart on the chain. What happened? Everything I once knew has changed. A sob escapes my tightly closed lips as I pull on the heart, yanking the necklace from my neck. I hold it tightly in my hand as I process all my emotions. I need to let go, but how can I? I have so many questions and no answers.
Before I realize what I’m doing, the sound of the metal clanking against the shower’s glass door echoes through me as I slip back into the dark abyss of my mind. To a memory, time, a place, where John was my father… where he was alive.
“Amara,” Dad yelled to me from the bottom of the stairs. Mom was sick again, and this time it had been a long time since she had her normal break. She would go through times when she was really sick, and then times when she was okay.
“Coming…” I called out. Pulling on a sweatshirt, I shuffled around the corner and down the stairs. My eyes automatically landed on my mother. Her frail body was lying on the couch, and though she was smiling, I could see this time around the treatments had been hard.
“Amara,” she called out for me, her voice hoarse as if she needed a glass of water. Dad came to stand next to me, placing a hand on my shoulder with a warm smile.
“She’ll be okay, Amara,” he reassured me, even though we both knew reassuring would only get us so far.
“Mom…” I said breathlessly, anxiety filled my belly sloshing around with every step I took toward her.
“Hi, sweetie. How are you? How is school?” she asked all motherly, completely ignoring the big huge elephant in the room.
“Uh….” I looked back at Dad, who gave me a reassuring smile. I wasn’t sure if I should even talk to Mom about anything. One thing could cause her stress, and the excess stress would only make her cancer worse.
Her warm hand landed on mine as I took a seat against her body. Pushing the tears to the back of my mind, I tried my hardest to see her as I saw her when I was five. Happy, healthy, and vibrant with life.
“Tell me…” she said softly, her eyes smiling.
“Well, school is good, excellent even. My grades are good, and I was asked to the dance.” I went on and told her the good things she had missed out on because she was in the hospital.
“That is so good, I’m excited. Has Dad taken you dress shopping yet?” I shook my head. The idea of going to the dance was actually the furthest thing from my mind.
“No, but I will…” Dad broke in, smiling, bringing the happiness back into the air.