Years ago tragedy struck the Calloway's causing the family to fall apart. Lucariah Augustine St. Francis Calloway was left in the ruins of it all with a mother who couldn't bother and a father who disappeared one night with his older brothers. For...
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I sat in the backseat of Lith's car with Francesca, she babbled to herself but was otherwise silent. And Lith, she didn't make a sound. She stared straight forward; hands gripping the steering wheel like it was her lifeline.
We drove for miles- long gone from the route to the house; Christophen followed close behind, cruising through the streets at her pace. I should be fearful after what happened last time I was driven out so long by Ezekiel, but I didn't care.
Or I pretended not to at least. But I didn't appreciate the rapid beat of my heart, and the way I mentally mapped out every twist and turn she made.
She won't leave you, my mind argued. But you can never be to sure, I argued back.
My mind was hyper focused on the outside world; more so that I didn't feel the small hand on my arm until she gave it a small squeeze.
I startled in response, turning abruptly to the culprit. Her eyes were wide and she mumbled something I could hardly hear.
"What was that?" I asked, ducking down to hear her.
"What's that?" She pointed to the cast on my arm with a frown that teetered on confusion and disgust. It made me smile a touch; the eagerness to learn, the way a smile of her own touched her lips when she saw mine.
I bit my lip, looking between Lith and her. "Mmmm," I hummed, thinking about what I could say; what I could do to show her without saying a word.
"I-" I choked out, wondering if I should even say anything of the incident. If Isobella were in front of me at this very moment, would I keep my mouth shut? I doubt it and it didn't seem fair that I'd do it to someone even younger.
"I got really hurt," I said simply. It's what happened, and she didn't need the details.
Her eyes got really wide as she turned her arm enough to show a scrape on her elbow. "Me too!" She exclaimed, "Riley pushed me off the slide and I got really hurt."
It surprised me how well articulated her speech was compared to other kids her age. I nodded at her story, "that was mean of her."
"Him," she corrected, "my brother. He's not nice, but he is nice too."
"I have not nice brothers," I shared.
She nodded, like it was something normal. And I guess it was for her, and for me too.
We had not nice brothers and messed up families. It'd be odd to say I had so much in common with a toddler, but it didn't matter whether she was two or twelve- we were one of the same.
Same side of a different coin.
Lith pulled into a small nameless diner that could have been mistaken for a house, had it not been for the sweet smell of syrup and the plethora of parking spaces fixed before it.
