Chosen | on hold

Chosen | 6

When I woke up, I didn't hear my mother's usual voice calling me down for pancakes. In fact, I didn't even smell the sweet aroma of the batter being placed upon the griddle. Every morning, my mother had woken me up without fail. Something was definitely wrong.

I had woken up hot and sweating, a drastic change from the usual 7am goosebumps that always greeted me. Without changing out of my pajamas, I bolted down the staircase.

The kitchen was dark and no dishes had been taken out of the old wooden cabinets. It looked like nobody had even gotten up to prepare breakfast. The table was still as clean as my mother had left it the night before, everything in its usual place.

"Maybe she went out with her friends," I tried to reassure myself, walking back up the stairs to change. "But why wouldn't she have woken me up?"

Judging by the heat from the already risen sun that had beaten down on me when I had woken up, I came to the conclusion that it was around 10 o'clock in the morning. I was way behind schedule and needed to get out to feed the animals.

The farm was quiet when I stepped out of the little house. Too quiet. Atticus was nowhere to be seen. Fear started to build up, covering my body in a cold sweat. No mother. No Atticus.

I forced myself to take deep breaths. I didn't know where else to go except to go hide in the barn. The barn with the familiar loft that hid my tears from the rest of the world.

When I walked in, I didn't expect to hear the quiet, sharp sobs coming from one of the empty stalls. My heart started pounding as I walked closer.

My mother sat in the corner, her face buried in her knees as she cried. I could tell that her hair had been in a bun once, but it now had fallen apart, sticking to her face. Her body shook as she sobbed. I wanted to scream, a cry for help, because I had never seen her in so much pain.

"Mom?" I croaked, breaking the unbearable silence.

Her small body froze. Slowly, but surely, her head lifted up to meet my gaze.

A large, purple bruise peeked through her smooth, cocoa colored skin. It was located on her left cheek, a bit of blood squirting out of a small cut.

I could see the fear in her eyes. Her lip was trembling, she couldn't get out the words she needed to say.

"Who did this to you," I demanded, my jaw hardening. But I didn't really need to ask. I already knew was responsible for this.

My father had always been abusive, a bully. He said the worst things to both my mother and I, but not once had he ever laid a hand on her. I took all the physical abuse. But, I knew there would come a day where he would just...snap. And all hell would break loose. I should have prepared for it.

"He didn't mean to do it," she stammered.

I shook my head in disagreement, watching tears slowly start to slip down her face. "Don't make excuses for him mom."

"I told him he couldn't have any more of our money," she cried, "And he got so angry."

I rushed to her side, letting her soak my shoulder with her tears. I had never seen such a powerful women so broken.

"He's gone now. He just left without any other words."

This was normal for my father. When he didn't get what he wanted, he would just leave. But he always returned.

"Come on, we've got to notify the authorities," I said, trying to help her stand up.

More tears started to fall down her face, washing away the blood. "No, we can't."

"Mom, this has gone on long enough! We both know that he's coming back, and when he does he won't be any better than when he left!"

"Please Hadley," she pleaded. "Don't."

Anger coursed through my bones. I couldn't believe her. "Why do you keep defending him? He has treated you horribly and you still can't see that!"

"Hadley you know he has been struggling!"

"You need to let him go mom. You need to let him go before he destroys our family," I snapped. Before she could say one more word, I stormed off towards the farmhouse, leaving her in the barn.

So this was love? Turning a blind eye on pain and abuse for a few seconds of bliss.

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