Girl (completed)

54

   ###TRIGGER WARNING###
  "Blaire, can we talk?" John asked as soon as I walked downstairs, and I threw on my coat.
   "I'm heading out," I said, and John rolled his eyes.
   "Yes, just run away, like you always do!" He countered, and I turned on my heel to face him.
   "You have no idea what I've been through!" I said, and he shook his head.
   "Well you don't know what I've been through either! You left, Blaire, and you didn't even say goodbye," he said, and I looked down guiltily.
   "Is that was this is about? I thought we were over that," I said quietly, and I looked up to see him shrug.
   "I thought that I was, and then you make that face that you made that night, and it all just comes rushing back, and you only seem to make that face around me. I don't want to be the one that makes you feel that way," he said, and I shook my head.
   "You don't make me feel that way, okay? I don't want you to ever feel that way," I said and he rested his head in his hands in defeat.
   "I am so sorry, but I really must go," I said, and he nodded, still looking discouraged. As much as I wanted to cheer him up, that wasn't my job anymore.
  

   "Mom, hi," I said awkwardly as she opened the door, and she smiled invitingly.
   "Blaire! I wasn't expecting you today," she said, and I dropped my bag in the doorway.
   "I thought I would stay for about a week, if that's alright?" I asked, and she nodded.
   "Don't be insane! You're always welcome here," she said with a warm smile, and I stopped into the old house of many ghosts.
   "Mum, can we talk?" I asked, and she nodded, brufhing my hair out of my face.
   "Dear, you have a lovely face. You would be quite beautiful if you'd pin your hair back," she said, and I pushed her hand away.
   "Yes, Mom. I was just thinking if we could really sit and talk," I said, and she frowned, looking at me once more.
   "Have you been eating enough? You look terribly thin," she commented, and I sighed. My mom had always been easily distracted.
   "Mum, please," I begged, and she rolled her eyes.
   "Yes, let's sit. What could possibly be so important that we must discuss it right this moment?" She asked, and we sat on the couch, knees facing in towards each other. I grabbed her hands in mine, and looked deeply into her eyes.
   "Mum, you know that you can tell me anything, right?" I asked, and she nodded.
  "Blaire, you're scaring me. What is it?" She asked, and I took a deep breath, almost reconsidering asking her. I knew that it would be very be the same.
   "When I left," I gulped nervously, "did Dad hit you?" I asked, and she retracted her hands, looking down.
   "Blaire..." She started, but I didn't want to hear excuses.
   "Mom, did he hit you?" I asked again, annunciating each word.
   "It was my fault," she said, and I stood up abruptly, pacing throughout the living room.
  "That bastard! Mom, listen to me. You can come live with me for a while, and then I'll get you your own house as soon as I save up some money, and-and-" I started, and she stopped me.
   "I'm not leaving," she stated plainly, and I turned to her in a state of exasperation.
   "What?" I asked angrily, and she shrugged, smiling weakly.
   "Sit," she said, and I reluctantly followed her command, sitting across from her. She took my hands in hers once more, and she looked at me proudly.
  "I know that you will never understand, but somewhere deep, deep inside of your father is the man that I fell in love with, and I'm not ready to walk away from him," she said calmly, and I furrowed my eyebrows in contact confusion.
  "Mom, he hit you," I said, and I contemplated telling her about what he had done to me as a child, but I let it go. I knew that in some crazy way, she still loved him and I didn't want to tarnish that.
   "I know that he has made many mistakes over the years, but I still see the loving man I knew all of those years ago, and I'm not strong enough to leave him. He was my fairytale ending, Blaire," she said, and I just sat in silence for a while. As much as it hurt, I did understand what she was saying. John had hot me once, and I couldn't leave him.
  "Please understand," she pleased when I remained silent, and tears ran down my cheeks. I sighed, for I was tired of always crying and waiting and hoping.
   "I don't think it's right," I began slowly, "but if that's what you want, I'll support you," I finished, and she smiled, tucking my bangs behind my ears again.
   "It is, dear," she said simply, and closed my eyes. My chest seemed constricted, making it hard to breath, but I persevered through it.
   "I just love you so much," I sobbed, and she held me close, stroking my hair.
   "If you love me, trust me," she said calmly, and I wiped my tears away.
   "Okay, mom. I trust you."
   "Trust me, princess," my father coaxed, and I whimpered, shying away from his cold touch.
   "Daddy, stop," I said, and he frowned, almost menacing.
   "Come on, princess. It's just me," he soothed, and I cried quietly, tucking my head into my knees.
   "Hush," he commanded sharply, and I immediantly stopped. All was quiet throughout the house, and it gave off an eerie feel.
   He began to harshly tug up my nightgown, only causing more harsh sobs from me.
   "Blaire," he hissed, and I jumped up, running away from him. I made it to George's room, and once again spent the night in there, with George lying on the floor and I in the bed.
   The memory made me sick, and I couldnt look my mother in the eye. I felt deep guilt for not telling her, but I didn't want to spoil her happiness.
•••
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