AllFreeNovel
Share Us
Making sure that I have everything ready at the door to go, before walking around my house, making sure it is all secured. Working from home has been both a blessing and a curse. I had my hours cut back to part-time. Although I was still making a lot of money, it was just barely enough.
My phone rings, and as I reach down to grab it, I notice my mom’s name flash across the screen.
“Hey mom, what’s up?” I say, a smile on my face.
She lets out a sob before she whispers, “dad is gone.” Then she hangs up the phone. That’s it, dad’s gone.
“What?” I ask, before trying to dial my mom back. I tried three times, and the phone was never answered.
Staring at the offending appliance in my hand, wanting it to ring. But fearing that what the person on the other end will say is going to confirm my worst fear.
My phone rings and I look at it, the name registering as my aunt Mae. The woman I am named after. We talk every Saturday. Today is Wednesday, and she should be at work.
“Aunt Mae?” I answer, the fear lodging deep in my throat, chest tightening and my breathing starting to get shorter.
“Hey sweetheart. I am sorry to tell you this, but your dad died today. Your mom was driving him to his appointment with this new heart doctor and he feel asleep. Honey, he had a massive stroke. I will be by to pick you up in ten minutes.” She says, then the line goes dead.
I fall to the couch, repeating the words over and over in my head “dad’s gone”a life cut short because he decided to live for the moment. The tears begin to fall down my cheeks. The breath I was holding causing me to pant as the sob rips from my body.
My dad is dead.
Sitting in the waiting room of the hospital is nauseating and depressing. I want my mom. I want my dad, but I know that I have to stay strong for my mom. These next few weeks, months, hell, maybe even years, will not only take some getting used to, but will test our emotions to the utmost extreme. I have heard that even years after the passing of a loved one, you will suddenly get over taken with emotions.
“Mae girl, you know that you can cry, right?” My Uncle Paul states, opening his arms for me to enter. Uncle Paul is my dad’s brother, and one of the few people that will help this nightmare pass.
I look up into his eyes, then over to my Aunt Mae. Taking a deep breath, I shake my head. “In time, this will all hit me and I will break. Right now, in this moment, I need to be strong. For my mom, but most of all, I can’t let anyone else see me break.” I stand and walk over to the doors, waiting for them to slide open, then walk through and head for the exit. I need air and time to think about what my next move is going to be. I know that I can’t afford to help my mom on my part time salary.
Tilting my head up to the sky, I open my mouth and nothing comes out. My scream lodged in my throat, my tears brimming my eyes and threatening to fall. “I can’t cry. I can’t break.” Mumbling to the dark sky.
“Sweetheart, I’m so sorry I couldn’t save him.” My mom says, a sob breaking free from her throat. Spinning around, I step into her and wrap my arms around her shoulders and I pull her in.
How can I make my mom understand that it wasn’t her fault? Holding her tight and finally letting the tears fall from my eyes.“Why dad? Why did you have to leave so soon?”I think to myself.
Another set of arms surround me and mom, before Uncle Paul’s cologne fills our noses. “Sometimes life and the life after have different plans for us. Today was your dad’s day to serve a higher purpose. He is our guardian angel now, and boy, does he have his work cut out for him.” He chuckles and begins to sway.
“I promise mom, we will get through this. Even if I have to take on a second job. I promise that we will get through this together.” I say, closing my eyes and hoping that my words find karma and she helps me to make this next phase of my mom’s life as happy as the first one. I hope that I can make it through this and come out on top, or at least come out with an agreement with the devil to keep moving forward.
Chapter Three
Commando
Been on the road for a few hours. I know that I need to pull in and gas up. My next stop is the border into Canada. The ride has brought solace to my mind. The memories of the last forty-eight hours slowly starting to become an evil nightmare. My understanding of why people do things to harm others is still as lost as my thoughts of why
“Max Sutcliffe, we meet again.” Agent Dexter states, a smug look on his face. “Looks like you can’t keep it in your pants. Let me guess, alcohol, no wait, drugs. It’s the same, anyway. You are all the same.”
“Agent Dexter, your racist ass is still on the force? I would have thought after the last time the clubs lawyer nailed your ass to the wall you would learn to keep your racist comments to a minimum.” I state, the sudden hit to the back of my knees forcing me to the floor.
“Sutcliffe, you are typical.” Agent Dexter states, laughing as my brothers all growl. But the one person I didn’t expect to speak up was the voice I heard next.
“Agent Dexter, do you remember me? You and your partner were sent out on one of the many occasions that I tried to break free from my abuser.” Muriel states, stepping up beside me and resting her hand on my shoulder.
“Muriel, the little girl who couldn’t play in the big leagues.” Agent Dexter states, laughing while he turns to look at all the faces in the room. My brothers are ready to jump. Their old ladies look like they want to take him to the dungeon, and his buddies look disgusted.
“Yes, the little girl who was so broken and beaten, begging you for help. The same girl who tried to kill herself a year later because the abuse you let me live in. My take on this situation is as follows. You are nothing but a racist piece of shit with a god complex. You see, when you walked in here, you didn’t listen to what the young girl had to say. You put words in her mouth and pushed her out the door, so you could continue with your radical agenda.” She says, stepping in front of me and the rest of my brothers. She is now the only person standing between the agents and my brothers.
“Muriel, you aligned yourself with degenerates? What top notch not good enough for you?” Agent Dexter asks, stepping closer. It’s like Muriel had this power built into her tiny little hand. All the brothers step forward until her hand shoots out, stopping them in their tracks.
“Right, degenerates. You mean the ones who saved me when the police couldn’t. The ones who protected me when the officers refused to. The ones who would give the shirts off their back to those they deemed as needing protecting, even if it’s from the church? Then yes, I choose them.” She states, beckoning Carleighane to come to her. The girl was brought back into the building by a younger female officer. Agent Dexter turning his head to the officer and glaring, making her shrink back, until Dexter’s partner stands in front of her with his arms crossed upon his chest.
