The Vale

C2

“Dad?” I call his name without looking at him. My eyes scans the empty road for anything suspicious.

“Yes, Sweetie,” He answers.

“Did you hear someone call me now?” I ask, taking my eyes off the road to look at my Dad, he’s screwing some bolt.

“No.” He shakes his head without taking his face off what he’s doing.

No? 

I could have swore I heard my name. Someone... A masculine voice just called Camille. Am I hearing things now? I don't think so. I think this shit has gone long enough. What the fuck is going is going on with me? I cannot believe this is happening, first the dreams and now hearing a voice in my head. Before now I would just zero it as hallucinations but I refuse to admit that I'm going crazy. It's like my mind is playing tricks on me.

I push the thought off my mind and spend the next minutes helping my Dad change the tire. We load on and continue our journey home. The entire ride home is silent. Dad’s humming to the song playing on the radio, while Mom keeps sighing, Only God knows what’s going on in her head but I know the thoughts playing in her head isn’t quiet. I can feel her rage from where I'm sitting.

Dad turns off the ignition after parking the car in front of our humble homey bungalow, I grab my backpack and open the door before anyone can stop me and run into the house, not stopping until I reach my room. I know what happens next. Mom and Dad are going to finish the conversation she started on the road. I press my ear against the door and count in my head.

And in Five... Four... Three... Two…

“What do you mean, take it easy, Richard?!” I hear her yell at Dad. She can never be quiet. Our next-door neighbor is always knocking on our door to tell us to keep it down.

“What do you mean by telling her about that boarding school, Corinne?”

Dad’s obviously upset, but his voice isn’t as audible as Mom’s. I hate it when they argue about me, and they do it every single day because she never approves of anything I do, she’s always complaining.

I can only imagine her throwing her perfectly manicured finger around.

“I wasn’t joking. If she tries anything silly, that is exactly where she’ll be spending the rest of her life.” She sounds determined.

The rest of my life? 

She's clearly got some sense of humor since I last saw her. What the hell? My mother is obviously out of her goddamn mind. It’s not as if I don’t love her or she doesn’t love me. She loves me more than life itself, or so she tells me when she is in a good mood. But She is too controlling, which is the reason I can’t tolerate her. She expects everything to be the way she wants, I blame that on her OCD but living by her rules and everything she wants is just too suffocating as my mind isn't killing me enough. One thing I detest most in this world is having someone dictate how I live my life and that's exactly what she's been doing since they adopted me when I was five.

I don't remember what my life was like before they took me in but Mom has always been honest about my adoption. Out of all the kids they chose me, why they did I have no idea. Sometimes when she reminds me she means it in a good way but other times it as if she regret choosing me, she would always say, "I know my real daughter would never trouble me like this. This is what you get for choosing a kid that isn't your flesh and blood."