Elisabeth Marie

Chapter Thirty-Three

I walked slowly, automatically, back to the bedroom where I was staying. Mother had better be appreciating this. I had just told Rose things that no parent should ever hear. I considered running back into her bedroom, telling her that I hadn't really meant the things that I had said, but instead sat down on the bed. I wasn't crying anymore; I was too angry at Mother to cry. She was an awful person. She had pretty much forced me to be an awful person. She had tried to bring me down to her level- and it had worked. I had let it work. I put my head in my hands.

Maybe Rose was already asleep. Maybe, when she would wake back up, she would have forgotten about what I had told her. Is it even possible to forget something like that? Probably not. I had an urge to Skype Krista, but the logical part of my brain reminded me that as soon as I would start talking to anyone, I would probably start crying again, purely from guilt, and so I just sat in silence, looking out the window.

When would Jane get home? I had heard her leave about twenty minutes ago, and there wasn't any chance I could leave the house if no one but Rose was home.

I sat very still and waited.

***

After what seemed like forever, Jane's car pulled into the driveway. I ran out the door, my shoes already on my feet. "Hey, Elisabeth, what's up?" Jane asked, concerned.

"Nothing. I'm just going for a run. I figured I would wait for you to get back," I lied.

"Um... alright. Dinner is at six-thirty, be back by then!"

I nodded. That meant I would have a little less than two hours. A two hour run? Jane must have known I had a different motive, and I was grateful for her leaving it alone. Maybe she was clued in more than I had originally thought. Oh well. No time to puzzle over it now. I had something I had to get done, and soon.

I ran in the familiar direction of the water tower, but stopped in my tracks a few feet from the break between houses that would lead to the field. Mother had told me that she knew about it. I didn't want to be spied on... but there wasn't really anywhere else to go. I figured that wherever I went, someone would be watching, so shrugged to myself and continued, slower now.

I could feel the pen in my pocket and hear the paper moving around. Hopefully it wasn't getting wrinkled. I moved to where the bench was, then remembered that Josh had broken it and walked to the trees. If I had my back against a tree, at least no one could read over my shoulder, right? I walked into the vegetation, careful not to trip, for a minute. Far enough that I felt alone, but not so far that I wouldn't be able to find my way out, I stopped. Perfect. Pushing aside some leaves, I took a seat on the dry ground.

The sun cast a greenish light through the thin canopy of leaves, calming me. I didn't know if Rose would tell anyone what I had said- I hoped she wouldn't. While I didn't want her to suffer alone, I didn't want for people to hate me, either. I sighed. Why are things so complicated?

The paper wasn't too wrinkled when I pulled it out- it was far from perfect, but not terrible. It helped that the lined paper hadn't been gorgeous to start with. It took a few seconds of impatiently shaking the pen for ink to come out, but when it did, it was a steady stream. I was using my sketching pen- the nicest one I had. Not that a pen could make up for what I said, I reminded myself.

I sighed, trying to find the words to begin. I had been sitting, thinking, for almost an hour by the time Jane had arrived back, and had come up with a pretty clever solution for my problem- at least I thought so. Mother had said I couldn't tell Rose anything that would contradict what I had told her, but she hadn't said anything about writing. Dear Mom, I began.