What If

30. Daddy Dearest

Washington State Penitentiary
Walla Walla, Washington
11:40am Friday July 24th

I knew it was a mistake the minute I took off from the morgue. I let my anxiety from the loss of my mother take over, and I fled. Once I made it outside, I hitch-hiked until I got back to Seattle. It wasn't the smartest, or the safest thing to do, but I felt like I had no other choice. I needed some time to figure all this stuff out. I needed to clear my head. I needed space. I had no intention of staying away from Sean for too long. I mean, he was a genius anyway. I'm sure he has ways of tracking me down.

I took a cab to Walla Walla, which was almost five hours from Seattle. I never thought anything would bring me here. I stayed at a motel overnight. I just hoped this didn't take long.

As the city bus I was currently on pulled into traffic, I pulled the letter out of my pocket. I read it multiple times on my way back to Seattle. If I was going to do what I needed to, I had to remember my motivation.

Lydia,

If you're reading this than I must be dead. Most likely I killed myself or the drugs did. I have a lot I need to say to you and I wish it could be in person. Honestly, I can't face you. I'm ashamed of how I raised you. Ashamed of the beatings, the rage, and...letting your father get away with taking advantage of you. I should have been stronger. I should have shown you the love that you deserved. Nothing that happened when you were a child was your fault. None. I know you blame yourself and I wish I could convince you otherwise. You must be surprised by this letter so far. My explanation for this caring side you rarely saw of me comes do to the fact that I'm sober. Right now, at least. I've been thinking and reflecting. I don't know if you know that your brothers got taken from me. They are adults now and have made no attempt to find me. I guess you can say karma is the only thing that has found me. Lydia, I need to tell you one last thing. I am not your birth mother. You need to know I tried so hard to love you. I tried to forgive your father and raise you as my own. He betrayed me and got another woman pregnant. From what I understand, she was young. Seventeen. Her mother made her give you up and your father brought you to our home. I never spoke to her, but according to your father, they were in love. I hope this answers some of the questions you had growing up. I know in my heart that you will grow up to be something special. I want you to paint and fall in love. Start a family and raise them like a mother should. Like I should have. Inside this box should be two more letters. One for each of your brothers. If you find them, please give it to them...and my love.

Your mom,

Tahlia

In a way, this did answer a lot of my questions. My mom wasn't my mom. I was surprised by the remorse I felt in her letter. Surprisingly, that was the most love I felt from her. I wanted to find out who my birth mother was. Maybe she could help me figure out who I am exactly. Half of me came from her, after all. God knew I didn't want to be anything like my father. Speaking of my father...

"We are now arriving at the Washington State Penitentiary. Please watch your step when exiting the bus," the automated voice instructed.

My anxiety spiked as I grabbed my bag and got off the bus. I stood in front of the prison while others walked right by me up to the gate. I wasn't sure how long I stood there. Maybe an hour? Two hours? I finally made it inside and had to fill out multiple forms and present my driver's license before they approved visitation.

I really didn't want to be here. I didn't think I would ever have to be in the same state, let alone within five feet of him. I had no idea how this was going to go. After all, I'm the one who called the police on him all those years ago. I told them about everything he had done. Everything. I even testified against him.