(Beca's POV)
I sat in my dads living room with a social worker. Turns out, Sheila can't have kids anymore, but desperately wants them. I had to be called over here, on a Saturday, to get interviewed by the social worker about my father and step-mother. My dad and Sheila were asked to leave the room, and I believe they went upstairs to their bedroom. "So, Beca, why do you feel your dad and Sheila would make good parents?"
"They're great people." I said just in case my dad was listening. "They're horrible, do not let them adopt a kid." I whispered quickly. "Really nice, really sweet. Caring." The social worker looked at me oddly, until she understood what I was doing. "My dad use to beat me because I'm gay, he's super Christian and a dick, don't let another child go through what I did." I lowered my voice again. "Please."
The social worker nodded. "Thank you, Ms. Mitchell." The social worker lowered her voice. "Do you need help?" I shook my head. It was too late to help me now, but it wasn't too late to save another child from being forced into this family of Hell. "Okay, Mr. and Mrs. Mitchell you can come out now!" She called upstairs. I heard stomping and soon my dad and Sheila were sitting on the couch with us. "Beca was very helpful, I am not sure how fast a baby can come your way, it may take years, upon years." By that I hoped she meant never.
My dad shook his head, "Well let's discuss that-"
"Dad, I'm going to go upstairs, to my room." I told him. He just waved me off and I went upstairs, but not to the room my dad had kept for me, to my dad's study. I instantly went searching through his files, trying to find his copy of my mothers will.
After not five minutes of searching, it was there. Attached to it was a letter that had my name on it, and I ripped it open faster than a cobra strikes it's enemy.
My dearest Beca,
I know you're probably wondering why I left you. There are things that you just wouldn't understand and I hope one day you will. In order to protect you, in case things turn for you, I need to tell you the truth.
The truth is that your father is abusive. He beats me, and makes me feel worthless. I can't live like that anymore and as much as it hurts me to leave you, I know you'll be safe with your uncle George around. If your father ever hurts a hair on your head I want you to run to your uncle, he will take care of you. Please do not take your life like I have done. Yours is much to precious, you have so much potential and you will get away and be happy one day.
It pains me more than you will know to leave you behind, you were the only good part about the life I have come to live. My little miracle, my little ray of sunshine. I want you to keep that happy, smiley, joyful, bubbly demeanor with you throughout your life. Don't let your father take that away from you, and don't let your father make you feel like who you are is wrong. I know one day you'll find a girl who will treat you better than anyone ever has before, and you'll be happy. That's all I want for you Beca, I want you to be loved and happy.
Please forgive me for what I have to do. I will be free again, and I hope one day you'll be able to realize why I had to go.
You are never alone, I am always with you and no matter where you go. I am in your heart, and you are in mine. I love you to the moon and back, Beca Boo.
~Mama.
I read the letter five times, over and over, again and again, until I wasn't crying anymore. My dad hurt my mom so much that she felt killing herself was the only way out. That drunk driver didn't crash into her, she crashed into him and drove her car off the bridge. It was a suicide. But not because of me.
Because of him.
I folded up the piece of paper and put it in my pocket. I looked over my mothers will, and saw everything that was meant to mine. The rights to her cook books, the money, the lockets, even our dog Sienna who passed away when I was sixteen. I put the will away and shut the filing cabinet.
I rushed to my room and sat on the bed and pulled out my phone to text Chloe.
