C93 Stop Calling Me

Annabelle leaned against the locked door.

Her hand rested on the knob as if steadying herself for the storm she was about to unleash.

The air in the room felt heavy.

Thick with the unspoken truths that had festered for years.

The warm cream walls and gentle floral patterns on the quilt were a cruel contrast to the suffocating tension between mother and daughter.

The sunlight filtering through the curtains seemed to mock the darkness about to spill into the room.

Mauve sat in her wheelchair near the centre of the room.

Her face was drawn and pale, but her lips pressed into a stubborn line.

She looked up at Annabelle with a mixture of confusion and unease.

Her brown eyes clouded with disbelief.

Her grey-streaked brown hair was pinned back in a low, messy bun, and her pale blue cardigan over a floral blouse made her look frail.

Which was a contrast to the defiance on her face.

Annabelle took a deep breath, her hands trembling slightly as she rubbed her thumb along the seam of her jeans.

The sudden anger that had spurred her on to practically drag her mom into the room was suddenly nowhere to be found.

The weight of years of silence pressed against her chest, threatening to crush her.

But there was no turning back now.

The truth clawed its way up her throat, and she let it out, her voice calm but icy.

“You want to know why I carry a gun, Mom? Why I am not the same sweet girl you think I should be?”

Her eyes locked on Mauve’s, cold and unyielding. “Let me tell you a story. A story about how you ruined my life by bringing a monster into our home.”

Mauve flinched as if struck. “Annabelle, what are you talking about?” she asked, her voice shaky but laced with irritation. “Don’t speak to me like that.”

Annabelle ignored her protest, crossing her arms tightly over her chest.

Her voice was steady, almost detached, as she began.

Though every word scraped against her like broken glass. “Do you remember when you decided that we needed a father figure? That we needed someone to take care of us because you couldn’t do it alone? You brought him home.” Her lip curled. “You brought Tad into our lives.”

Mauve’s expression hardened. “Tad is…”

“A monster,” Annabelle interrupted sharply, her tone slicing through the air like a blade. “Do you remember how, a couple of years after he moved in, he insisted I have this room all to myself? How he said a girl my age needed her privacy?”

Her mother’s face flickered with uncertainty, her hands gripping the arms of her wheelchair. “What does this have to do with…”

“This room,” Annabelle continued, her voice rising slightly, “was where he stole everything from me. My innocence. My childhood. My safety.” Her throat tightened, but she refused to let her voice waver. “Do you know what it’s like, Mom, to have someone you’re supposed to trust hurt you in the worst way imaginable? To be afraid to close your eyes at night because you know what’s coming?”

Mauve’s face twisted in anguish. “Stop it,” she said, her voice trembling. “You’re lying.”

Annabelle let out a bitter laugh, a hollow sound that filled the room. “Lying? Really?”

She shook her head, her expression grim as she moved closer to her mother. “You want proof?” She leaned down, her voice dropping to a dangerous whisper. “There’s a mark on him. On his... private area. A scar. How would I know about that, Mom? Unless I’m telling the truth?”

The blood drained from Mauve’s face, and her hands flew to her mouth.

Her eyes widened in horror as she stammered, “I... I don’t... Annabelle, stop this.”

Annabelle straightened, her arms falling to her sides as she took a step back.

The satisfaction of seeing her mother’s denial crumble was fleeting, swallowed almost instantly by the ever-present ache in her chest.

“Now that I have your attention,” she said coolly, “I’d like to finish my story. About how you ruined my life with your blindness and your choices.”

Tears welled in Mauve’s eyes as she shook her head vehemently. “If... if you’re telling the truth, why didn’t you say anything before? Why didn’t you come to me?”

Annabelle clenched her fists at her sides, her nails digging into her palms. “Because he promised me he’d hurt Cathy if I did,” she said, her voice breaking despite her resolve. “He told me he’d make her suffer worse than I ever did. And I believed him, Mom. I believed him because I’d already seen what he was capable of. But did you see me? Did you bother to ask why I was withering right in front of you? Of course not! In as much as your dear husband is happy!”

Mauve’s hands trembled as she reached for the wheels of her chair, desperate to leave. “I can’t... I can’t listen to this. Let me out.”

“No,” Annabelle snapped, her voice hard as steel. “You’re going to listen. You’re going to hear every disgusting detail, every horror I endured because of your decisions.”

Mauve recoiled, her breath coming in short, uneven gasps. “Annabelle, please...”

Annabelle ignored her, her voice unrelenting. “I was the one who made sure Cathy was taken away from you. I did it because I couldn’t stand the thought of her being anywhere near him. And I’ll do it again, Mom. I’ll take her far away from here. From you. From everything.”

Mauve’s face crumpled, tears streaming down her cheeks. “You... you would take Cathy away from me? After everything I’ve been through? After everything I’ve done for you?”

Annabelle’s own tears blurred her vision, but she refused to let them fall. “What have you done for me, Mom?” she shot back, her voice cracking. “You brought a monster into our home. You ignored the signs. You chose him over us. And even now, you still can’t see the damage you’ve done. Even after he almost killed you, you still asked him at the hospital. You will accept him back if he comes back today. I will not let you ruin Cathy because of your blind decision. You won’t do it to her.”

“I won’t let you take her,” Mauve said, her voice trembling but resolute. “She’s my daughter.”

“And I’m her sister. The only one who looked out for her while you were enjoying your marital bliss,” Annabelle countered, stepping closer. “I’m the one who protected her. I’m the one who will keep protecting her, even if it means fighting you.”

Mauve’s face twisted in anguish, her lips quivering as she whispered, “You’ve changed, Annabelle. You’re not the girl I raised.”

Annabelle’s expression hardened. “You’re right. I’m not. And that’s your fault.”

Mauve’s tears flowed freely now, her body shaking with silent sobs. “I won’t let you take her,” she repeated weakly.

Annabelle’s voice dropped, cold and final. “Then I’ll declare you unfit. I’ll tell the courts everything. And believe me, I have plenty of evidence.”

The threat hung in the air like a thundercloud, and Mauve’s sobs grew louder as she crumpled into herself.

She looked as though she might collapse at any moment and guilt reared its head in Annabelle’s chest.

Annabelle’s phone buzzed in her pocket, startling her.

She pulled it out, and her jaw tightened as Dante’s name flashed across the screen.

The sight of it was like a trigger, unleashing a torrent of emotions she couldn’t afford to feel.

The enormity of how much she wished he was there right then scared her.

With trembling hands, she answered the call.

Her voice was sharp and brittle as she snapped, “Stop calling me.”