CHAPTER TWO: BLAMED
980 Words
"Murderer! Murderer!! Where is that murderer? Vanessa, come down here or I'll raise this building down!"
The voice split my head. I couldn't sleep throughout the night. I lay beside Olivia's bed with my eyes open in disbelief until morning.
Then a gentle knock followed.
"Ma'am, Vanessa."
She came in and tried to help me off the floor, seeing how much of a mess I was, but I restrained her.
"Who is that downstairs?" My eyes remained unchanged from the spot they were fixed on.
"Mr. Craig."
My heart sank immediately. I knew they had never really liked me...my husband's family...but today I wasn't prepared for anything. I'm too weak to utter a single word.
"You can leave now, Cathy. I'll be down."
I walked downstairs looking like a bag of mess. I didn't take off anything I was wearing from the previous day...my drenched dress, parts of my already ruined makeup… in fact, nothing.
His eyes met mine and he started ranting, saying a lot of things.
"Vanessa? You think you can murder my only niece and get away with it? What? Because you want my brother's inheritance all to yourself? Huh?"
My eyes closed and tears streamed out again. My eyes were beginning to hurt. They had poured out too many tears than usual. It might actually start pouring out blood too.
"Kill my own child?" I said. My voice sank deeply. It seemed like I was beginning to lose my voice completely.
"Today is not the day, Craig. I just lost my child, for God's sake! I don't need this… not now."
Ever since I stepped foot in the Randolph mansion, they had hated me.
When my husband, Richard Randolph, introduced me as his intended bride, they tried all sorts of mischief to end what we had. His mother even went to the extent of trying to pay me just to stay clear of her son.
Simply because of my profession as a model, which Richard obviously adored. In fact, the first time he saw me was on the runway, and he had always loved me as a model.
But his family hated my guts completely.
I wasn't surprised at Craig's behaviour. They had often said the only reason they tolerated me was because of Olivia, and once they had Olivia to themselves, they would throw me out. The same reason Craig sued me for full custody of my own child while I was still alive.
"Vanessa, Vanessa, Vanessa… I'll make you regret taking away the only memory of my brother that we had! I know what game you're playing, and I'll double-cross you on this one."
I stared at him, trying to understand how I, as a mother, would take the life of my own only child. It got ridiculous the more I thought about it.
He came closer to me.
"And why do you stink?" He pinched his nose and moved a distance.
Maybe I stink, but I couldn't perceive a thing. It's true what they say about pain: when you feel so much pain in a particular area, it almost seems like your other body parts are not functioning properly.
He continued.
"That's by the way. So much for a mother who was dragging custody of a child you care less about!"
"Stop it!" I screamed.
The memory of the accident was creeping in again. My anxiety tripled. I covered my ears with my palms. The beep of the hospital machine… everything was playing in my head afresh.
He laughed as though he was enjoying the display.
Then he said something my heart will never stop judging me for.
"And you were there. You watched her being hit. You're telling me you didn't kill her? She practically died before your eyes, in your care, in your hands!"
"Stop it!" My voice echoed.
The last line of his words made me lose my senses. I immediately stood up and crashed a vase at his feet and other breakable things I could find in sight.
"Don't come to my house and tell me trash about my child!" I roared.
I watched him leave, smirking mischievously at my display. He always liked to see the worst of me. I knew he'd come back...maybe even more mischievous.
I crashed to the ground again. Cathy tried to help me again, but I refused.
"If you want to help me, go and bring Olivia home."
I paused, then turned to her again.
"Alive!"
At this point, I could say I had lost my sanity.
I dashed into my room, then straight to the shower. I turned it on cold, and in my full dress I sat under it.
And kept whispering,
"I'm a bad mother… I'm a bad mother. I don't deserve you, Oli."
I scrubbed my whole body as though I was washing away invisible dirt.
I wasn't quite sure what I was washing...my dirty body, the blood-drenched dress, or the thoughts of the accident and hospital scene that wouldn't leave my head.
I sat in the shower for two good hours until I started catching a cold.
So I stood up, dropped the dress, and got into another one.
I did everything like someone being controlled...eyes fixed on nothing, endless thoughts streaming through my head.
I felt fresh only on the outside. It felt like the hours under the shower couldn't wash away even a little of my inner pain.
I took my late husband's picture in one hand and my daughter's in the other.
I've had two huge losses in one lifetime… is this not too much for a single human?
I questioned myself.
Hot tears rolled down my eyes again.
All things aside, I know Richard's family are coming at me with everything they have.
I'm not strong.
I'm getting weaker, and the thought of it made me even more exhausted.
Tears streamed again and again.
- Writer
