Scars Of Truth

5 ➛ Uncertainty

My mother has been nothing like me as far as I've known. My entire life she'd been reserved, discreet about how much info she'd share with me on certain topics. As if one day the truth would accidentally be revealed.

She was especially stingy with my time and how I spent it. A main part of the reason I was homeschooled was because my mother didn't trust me, or was it because she didn't trust the world which we lived in?

The more I grew, the more my eyes opened about my mothers behavior. She'd never been very fond of Mena, although she claimed it was because her family lived on the far outskirts of the mainland where wealth never reached, but I knew there was something more.

My mother didn't like when I asked questions about our family, or more specifically my father.

My father, whom I'd never known, was the topic of our arguments quite frequently. But I'd never questioned her reasons for shutting me out regarding him, he seemed like a reckless man. Not even feeling compelled to be there while his daughter was being born.

He'd left my mother in Charlston two weeks before I was due. He ran away from his wife of two years, cowering in fear at the possibility of commitment and a family.

He'd never told anyone where he was going, only claimed that it was for the best for all of us.

I do not know my fathers name.

I do not know what he looked like.

I do not know who he was.

Mother hates talking about it, better yet, even the slightest mention of him brings her to tears. It's a painful reality however it is mine.

The important difference between my mother and I is that I have absolutely nothing to hide. Which is why what Four said had me spiraling uncontrollably. I wasn't a liar. I knew who I was. There was nothing horrible about me that I wanted to keep a secret.

Except for maybe the fact that I still ordered a happy meal at McDonalds, but other than that I was on a clean streak.

All I had done at the bridge was tell Zane to get lost, which he weirdly obeyed. Why was Four acting like it was anything out of the ordinary? It wasn't any different than when I had also told him to shut up, except he annoyingly enough, did not heed my advice like Zane had.

I pushed away the insane thoughts running through my head. Four was crazy, that was all.

I sorted the last of the folklore novels in the returns basket then released a heavy sigh. Collapsing into a nearby bookshelf, I slid to my knees then hugged them utterly exhausted. Molecular dust particles from the bookshelf flew in every direction and I started to cough.

I swear every damn crevice of this ancient building was covered in dust.

"Jesus, don't die back there." I heard the deep rumble of a voice chuckle. I immediately shot up from my position on the floor to meet the culprit who seemed to be hiding just on the other side of the bookshelf.

I followed the figures' faint silhouette from through the spaces of the bookshelf before they emerged to my right. There stood Zane from two days ago freshly fitted in his uniform, his ginger locs in a frizzed bedhead. His topaz coloured eyes peeked through his fringe to meet my annoyed glare.

"I wasn't dying." I released one last cough, embarrassed. "What do you want?"

"A book."

I gave him one of my famous eye rolls, "Well I know that much."

He released an unamused chuckle, "Yeah, well it looks like you know everything huh neophyte?"

"What the hell is a neophyte?"