Chapter Six

Chapter Six

A Chapter by Skyler Lestrange
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My Dad's story

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I always used to wonder why my mum hated the world. I even dared to ask her one night. Mother hates what the world’s ways had done to my father. She blamed the world for his death. Now, my Mother used to be normal. She had a pretty good life actually. She met my Dad when she was 17 and they started dating. The way she described the relationship they shared was beautiful. They were not like anyone else. However, they often caused a bit of trouble in the neighbour. When people saw them on the streets, they would point and whisper, “Those two younger’s. Cause nothing but trouble, they do.” 

Then when my Mother was 18, she found out she was a month into pregnancy. She was delighted as any other girl would be. But as it was difficult in those days, she had to marry my Dad A.S.A.P. It wasn’t right for a young lady to sleep around in those days, especially if the lady wasn’t exactly a lady due to her behaviour. She told him a week later, after she bucked up the courage, that she was expecting and that they would have to get married. He hastily agreed but Mother never noticed this haste. 

A week had passed and they were married. It wasn’t a big fancy wedding. It was more of a shot gun wedding. She didn’t get a fancy dress but only her church wear. Of course they had to live together, but they weren’t alone. She had moved in with my Dad’s family. They didn’t really like her but saw her as a w***e. 

As months past by, my Dad seemed to act strange. He often flinched when anyone approached him and his voice had a hasty tone as he spoke. She had noticed quite often that there were small scars on his wrists and arms. She also found a rope under their bed. He was not himself anymore. Mother decided to get him back to his normal self. A train trip was arranged. They used to dream about just hopping on a random train and go wherever it took them. So that’s what they did. Well, to be correct, that’s what she decided. He followed along.

On the train, Mother would stroke the bump that contained me inside her. Dad sometimes glanced at me and gulped. No words were exchanged for about an hour. It was only then had my Dad spoke up.

“I think I’ll go out side and get some air,” he informed her as he stood.

“How about we open the window instead,” mother suggested whilst knitting her eyebrows. 

“I need a cigarette,” he muttered as he walked off.

Then my Mother and I were left alone. A few minutes had passed and Dad had not returned. A hint of worry struck my mother but he was only having a cigarette and maybe he wanted to take his time. She glared at the window and saw the large canyon that they were about to pass over.

Thirty minutes they had passed over the canyon. My Dad still hadn’t returned. Mother was panicking. A search was arranged and people were running around all sorts of places in the train. No where was he found. Some of the passengers claimed that they seen at the very back of the train, where a standing area with a balcony was, having a smoke. After that they hadn’t seen him come back in. Yet he was not outside anymore. My mother was reduced to tears. If it was all just a joke she considered it played and that he should give up.

Later the conductor came across a hasty old woman who looked slightly panicked. Her son had explained that he went to the bathroom and when he returned, she was declaring that she saw a man fall into the canyon. 

“Can I ask, did you see what he looked like?” The conductor asked.

“It was all too quick,” the petite thing explained, “but he had dark clothes on yet his sleeves around his wrists were red. It looked a bit like blood,” she paused, “had dark hair and was deathly pale. He had fallen from directly above this seat.”

When they matched the description with the man who was with my Mother, they confirmed it;

Suicide.

Mother collapsed into a fit of sobs and tried to run. A man held her back as she screamed for my Dad. Only a year later had she realised that it was actually the pregnancy that caused this.
He wasn’t ready for marriage. Nor was he ready to be a father.

That’s the whole reason she’s shallow. She blames sex basically. She often blames me too. This depresses me.

I suggested that Amethyst should come over for dinner. Hopefully it would break Mother out of her shell. My Mother should’ve gotten out more than she usually did. Going to the café did not count as usually I was the one who placed the orders. 

I asked Mother if Amethyst could join us for dinner the next night. It took a while to get her to agree. I even had to make up a reason of why she should come over. I basically told her that she was lonely and that her family left for a few days. I don’t really think she believed me but she did agree.

The Russian painter man was just leaving as I entered the house again. This was before I asked Mother about the dinner. The man grunted as he shoved past me. He also smelt funny.

“I’m home!” I shouted as I shut the door as the painter left. Mother appeared in the hall when I turned. She was messing with her wild hair and stroked her dressing gown which was once soft but was now a bit tattered.

“And what time is this to be coming home at?” She questioned. The odd thing was, it was still day time.

“It’s still day time,” I replied with a hidden sneer.

“Whatever, the lounge was just painted, not completely…just nearly completely,” she just glared wide eyed at me.

I didn’t respond. I went to the kitchen to make myself tea. When Mother joined me I asked her about the dinner. When she agreed, I finished my tea. She just swirled hers around in the mug and watched some of the contents spill out. I would clean it up later.

“Do you like her?” Mother asked. She had a dark look in her eyes.

“Yeah, she’s nice. She’s…my only friend,” I whispered coldly. I heard my Mother make a gagging sound.

“I meant; do you love her,” she sneered with cold command.

I gulped for a second before squeezing my eyes shut. I opened my mouth and relied with;

“No.”

I heard Mother give a sigh of relief, “Well good. Love’s hard, it is. Really stone cold and hard. I’m only telling you this because life can do terrible things to you. I should know.”

With that she left with her tea. I nearly died inside.


© 2013 Skyler Lestrange


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Added on May 14, 2013
Last Updated on May 14, 2013
Tags: dads story sad death suicide the


Author

Skyler Lestrange
Skyler Lestrange

Derry, Northern Ireland, United Kingdom



About
Hi I'm Nicola and I like to write (obviously or I wouldn't be here) and I do hope you enjoy my stories as well as my writing. more..

Writing