FEAR AND TRAUMA
1335 Words
After the brutal death of my father, my mother and I decided to get out of the neighborhood and look for a place to live somewhere else. Helen and her family were as well advised by the doctor to look for a place to stay somewhere else that she may forget the trauma of her ordeal.
In the middle of my father’s funeral, Helen’s parents admitted to why she had a nervous breakdown that caused her to not talk. Helen was raped by the man who killed my father. I tried to talk to Helen but she just stared at me and tears started to roll down her cheeks. That night, after I talked to her, she tried to commit suicide that her parents asked me not to talk to her about the events. At least not for now.
They sold their land and transferred somewhere as well. They didn’t tell us where as to protect Helen from whoever had done this to her and my father. They didn’t file a case against the culprit, in fear of Helen’s life and safety.
We immediately left our house and gave the keys to the broker and we lived in Aunt Maisie’s house for several weeks.
When the land was bought, we gave the half to Aunt Maisie. But she gave half of her part to me.
“Natalie, your father loved you so much and I believe that he permitted the selling of the land because of that love for you.”
“But we already have enough.”
“I know, start anew. I can introduce you to my manager and with that beauty and body, you can go places and even be more known than me.”
“What if the killer would see me and know it’s me.”
“Oh, you’re right. Maybe bodyguards?”
“I am still too scared.”
“We will think of something.”
After nearly a month, we were able to buy a house near the bay area. The village is gated with guards. The neighborhood is quiet and simple and my mother and I transferred from Aunt Maisie to this new home.
“This is a beautiful mom and we can start anew and forget the bad experiences and memories.”
“Yes. But I still miss your father.”
“He will always be in our hearts. He will be our guide, our angel.”
And we hugged each other as we looked at the big glass window looking at the view of the bay.
Days passed and we still fearfully lock the doors and windows and suspect everyone that they are the killer and would plan on harming us.
After months of living near the bay area. My mother and I are still scared to go out as the killer might just be around and see us. The trauma of seeing my father bathed in his blood, I and my mother held on to each other trying to conceal our fear. It is hard not to know who the brigands are but people in our former neighborhood said it was Mr. Parker. But when I mentioned Mr. Parker to Helen, she didn’t even give a sign that it was him or his men. The doctor said that maybe it is not him.
And it is still a puzzle to me because he is the only person with an interest in the land.
My father is a good man and he never had any fights with anybody nor did he had enemies, or even people hating him. But the fear slowly died down as we knew neighbors being nice and concerned about us.
My mom and I lived a simple life for almost a year. We tried to live a silent and discreet one, and just used the money we got from the sale of the land. Although we have a lot of extras to spend, we were not used to lavish living.
There were times that one of us would just cry and the other would tell funny stories but we still end up embracing each other in loneliness.
Then boredom came to me, I need to do something to be productive.
“Mom, can I visit Aunt Maisie tomorrow?”
“Sure, I can go with you. What is your plan?”
“We cannot be living in a cave, we need to go out and be ourselves.”
“Can I work with Aunt Maisie, even as her assistant?”
“I don’t see anything bad about it. If she will agree and take you as her personal assistant. I am sure she will closely look after you.”
I jumped in happiness and went to hug my mom.
“Yehey! Thank you, mom.”
“I am having friends in the neighborhood myself and they are inviting me around, just nearby though.”
“Let us slowly enjoy but be keen with people. Please be careful, mom. We only have each other.”
“Well, it’s just spa, meetings, and afternoon teas.”
And I embraced her. In our silence, we understood each other.
That night, I called my Aunt on the phone.
“Hi, Natalie dear! How are you?”
“I am good. Thank you.”
“What’s this special call about?”
“Well, Aunt Maisie, can I go with you while you work? You know like... Can I be your assistant?”
“Does your mother know?”
“Yes, we talked about it and she is more at ease and comfortable that I am with you.”
“Okay, but why be my assistant? Learn and be like me? Or yet, even more! Then I can be your manager?”
“Really? You think I can?”
“Are you serious? You are the prettiest lady I know. Your father has kept you in your cellar that boys won’t snatch you that early.”
I giggled when she said that
“I know.”
“But because he meant well. He loves you.”
“And I miss him. I will always be thankful to him.”
“Oh, okay. We will pick you around nine tomorrow and you learn from what I do. You know, just to get the hang of it.”
“Okay, thanks so much.”
“Sleep early, princess. You need that freshness.”
“Yup, I will. See you. And Aunt Maisie.”
“Yes?”
“Thank you.”
“For what?”
“For everything.”
And we hanged up. I smiled and ran to my mom who was cooking dinner. I went to her back, raised her arms, and danced while I went to her front.
“She said yes!”
“Oh, that’s good.”
“She even said I can be a model myself someday. I need to learn though.”
And I walked with poise teasing as I modeled my simple shorts and tank top, pretending I am modeling.
“I can also be in magazines.”
And I posed a lot pretending cameras were clicking in front of me.
“But what if they see you?”
“I won’t look the same with make-up.”
“Okay, just be with. your Aunt all the time.”
“I promise, I will.”
And I danced around the house pretending to be a ramp model.
That night, I imagined myself in signature lines of clothes, make-up, bags, and shoes. The flickering lights of cameras, the heat of the sun during outdoor photoshoots, and the people asking for my signature. I got too excited.
Then the fear of the traumatic scenario and humiliation suddenly crept in. What if they kidnap me and do what they did to Helen? What if they hurt my mother in exchange for me? Will the high society accept me as the ambassador of their signature brands? Are my eyes, my nose, my mouth, and my body be enough?
- Writer
