Finally, I'm Home
1101 Words
The fear choking me deprived me of the ability to scream. I staggered back from the display case, flailing about wildly until someone stopped from me from falling with their body.
I whirled around to find my mother with tears in her eyes.
"I'm... I'm fine." I choked out, patting my arms to convince her and myself that I really didn't just catch on fire a second ago. I found several people holding their phones out and staring at us in morbid fascination.
"We need to leave here now." Mother whispered urgently, wiping the tears from her eyes. I nodded and we speed walked in one accord down the street.
Glancing around after we cleared another block, I spied a small boutique, just like the man had discribed.
"C'mon mum. Time for a little shopping." I didn't wait for a reply as I entered the air-conditioned store. The clothes in here looked pricey but I had Frank's money to blow so why not do it on designer clothes.
I shook myself, trying to get rid of the residue of fear still on me. What in God's name was wrong with me? All of this had started after I woke up in Dr Boyle's clinic. Had Frank hit me so hard he knocked the sanity right out of me? Because there was no way in hell any of the things I'd been seeing in the mirror were real.
"Kiera, what's going on here? The truth. Now." Mother stood with arms akimbo and glared at me.
"Morning ladies, what can I get you?" A statuesque lady in short green gown flashed us her megawatt smile.
"Yes, my mum needs several clothes, both for fancy events and others for every day wear. Shoes, bags, lingeries, y'know, the works." I pushed mother into her arms and found a stall to enclose myself in.
Mum was not confrontational by any means, so she would be along for the ride until we were alone. I dragged my bag off me and opened the box thing again. It needed a name like the money box or...or, wait I know! The genie lamp! Only it gave me money instead of wishes. I took out a roll and when I counted it, it amounted to ten thousand dollars and there was about fifty rolls in here. My math wasn't that good but I was betting that all amounted to... Holy s**t, that was half a million dollars! Why would da-Frank have so much money in the basement?
I picked out a roll and pocketed it before replacing the genie lamp into the brown bag. Figuring mum would be busy for another hour or so, I walked out to carry out the rest of my errands and get as much distance as possible from that freak incident in the street.
For a teenager who had never left her home before, I was pretty damn good at this on the run thing. Two weeks ago, I couldn't even plan out my day but here I was thinking ahead and organizing a daring run into a different country for me and my mother. I stopped short in the middle of the road. A different country? Was that where we were headed? Heh. I shrugged mentally. Might as well.
After picking up two huge suitcases, a batch of toiletries, I dragged myself back to the boutique, and just in time to see my mother on the verge of tears.
"Mum? What's wrong?"
"Everything in here costs over $5000!" She bellowed, pointing accusingly at a wall of clothes, bags and lingeries. "We don't have that much money!" She exclaimed with wide eyes.
I ignored mother in favour of the attendant.
"Could you pack these all up please, and add these to the list." I announced adding to the board of clothes on the rack I'd left outside the stall I claimed as mine.
"Where did you get so much money?" Mother screamed in panic as I counted out the total amount the attendant announced.
Figuring offense was the best defence, I scowled at her angrily. "Dad gave me. Like I keep telling you. How else did you think I came across this money?" Technically, I hadn't lied. The money was from dad.
"But why is he spending so much on me? He always complained that there wasn't much at home." She mused quietly.
"Maybe he wants to spoil you after....you know." I waved at her face.
She nodded in acknowledgement, looking pemsive. Of course that made more sense to her. Whenever he beat her up, dad had a habit of buying her insanely expensive gifts, she must have thought this was one of them.
I held her hand before she could move further away.
"Mum? Please try one on? And I'll change too. Please? Dad would prefer we show up well dressed.
She nodded again, looking unsure and stared at the clothes in dismay.
"What's wrong mother?"
"I don't know what to choose. Your father, he usually picks one for me."
That rat bastard. She couldn't even decide what she wore? I wanted to burn him into a crisp.
"Pick one. Any one. I'm sure he'll love it." I assured her, all the while feeling like someone dragged a broken bottle down my throat.
"Why don't you pick one for me? One you think your father will like."
"Nope. Not happening. Just pick one. Father will love whatever you wear." The words tasted like bile on my tongue . "You are beautiful. You will make whatever you wear beautiful."
She wavered for several minutes before the attendant interjected. "Why not the peach gown and black belt ma'am? It's perfect for your skin colour."
Mother gave her a wan smile before picking the clothes up and going into a deeper stall.
My mother did look beautiful in the peach going and black wedge. In fact she was gorgeous, except for the garish blonde hair she had on. I never liked it, especially when I found out that she had only gotten it because 'Frank thinks I look better with blonde hair.' I wanted to drag her to the nearest saloon but I had this irrational fear that father was right behind me. I'd feel much better when we were out of this country.
One cab, two buses, three trains and four days later, we arrived at a long tiled road lined with shiny white rocks that created a buffer against clear ice blue water. The colourful lettering atop a mountain displayed the words; 'Welcome to Llanwrtyd, Wales.'
Home, a dark voice in my mind whispered gleefully.
- Writer
