On The Last Night of The Year
Disclaimer: I own nothing but the ideas.
When I signed up for the New Year Challenge on Chit Chat on Author's Corner this was one of two ideas I had. As I couldn't pick both characters on the challenge I decided to keep this one to write.
. . .
The dark room reflected her mood. The soft glow from the small fake Christmas tree in the corner was the only illumination. As she sat watching the lights softly twinkle Ashley's mind was a million miles away from the joys of the festive season.
Instead she was home for the first time in just over nine years. She was with her mother and father, piles of presents arranged under the tree, smiles as they tried to guess what they were about to receive. She may have been in her late teens, but Christmas was still a fun-filled family occasion.
The look on her parent's faces as they exchanged gifts, the smiles, the tender way he traced her cheek. Ashley remember dreaming of one day having a man that love her as much as her father loved her mother, instead of the jerks she met. Her life was perfect. She could never have imagined what the following year held for the Beauchamp family.
Hugging her knees up to her chest, she sat on the floor, back against the couch, the coffee table in front of her was covered in sealed white envelopes. Each identical, right down to the meticulous printed writing on the front, made it obvious they were all from the same person. The one person she honestly, hand on heart, hated.
Her eyes returning to the once neatly bundled pile, now sprawled across the surface. Then she glanced down at the flimsy folded sheet of card in her hands. Once more her eyes watered, but the tears were due not sadness, no, this was pure unadulterated anger.
Anger bred out of the shame that her father had finally tricked her into opening one of his correspondences. The scarlet envelope on the floor beside her, the messy scrawl such a direct opposite of his usual precision, so much so she was certain he had asked someone else to write it for him. It was a cheap trick, effective though, she thought.
Opening the offending Christmas card once more, through blurred eyes she read the message held within again.
Cherub,
I have long come to realise that your heart is not open to forgiving your Pa. If I haven't said sorry enough times already then I doubt I will be able to in the weeks that I have left. I am dying my Sweetness, my life sentence is to come to an abrupt end and I have only one wish. Please visit before it is too late.
Forever yours,
Pa x x
As the fury built in her once more she began to tear the innocent looking item into pieces. The bastard, how dare he invade her life like this? She had deliberately built up her defences; he should never have been able to get through. Life was just fine without his interference. The life she had worked so hard to make for herself after he had ripped her normality to shreds.
In the seven years since he had been arrested, Charles Beauchamp, had periodically written to Ashley. She had to admit that it had slowed since she had become a full fledged FBI agent - guess good news did travel fast! That should have pissed him off she thought with some satisfaction. Part of her wished she had twisted the dagger a little further by finding a way to let him know she had worked with Aaron Hotchner and David Rossi - the very men responsible for his incarceration.
Ashley had successfully recognised each and every one of those letters up until now. The prison issue stationary, the specific handwriting; all a dead give away to the contents of the envelope. Up until today!
Today Ashley had returned from wrapping up a long term case with the 'Domestic Trafficking Task Force'. It had been one of their most successful to date, and the only case Ashley had worked on since her transfer to Andi Swann's unit. Ashley hadn't minded not being 'home' for Christmas; in fact she liked the distraction of work. Christmas alone was no fun.
The team had been out to celebrate together, hitting a bar straight after work and she had come home feeling a little light headed.
However tradition, and the additional alcohol, had forced her to put up the tree with a few decorations and open the cards and packages that her neighbours had taken in. Christmas may have been six days ago, but Ashley needed to comply with the expectation of living with normality. Christmas had to come before the New Year and she had been aware she was rapidly running out of time.
All had been going well, a card and cookies from Penelope and Kevin, and then perfume from Emily, Spence had sent her a card with a long letter in it. Glass of wine in hand, she had got to the last two, a small package and a single card. First Ashley had pitched for the card. Not recognising the handwriting she had opened it out of interest.
That was where she hit pause; everything from that point onwards had disappeared as she tried to understand how he had managed to knock her sideways from behind bars.
Screwing the remains of the card up before throwing them blindly away from her, Ashley watched the sparkly confetti falling peacefully to the ground. Her hands dropped lifelessly on the carpet either side of her. What did she do now?
She wanted answers; she had long wanted answers but had never been ready to sacrifice her soul to satisfy her curiosity. But she no longer had the time to decide when she would face him. It was now or never, if his card was to be believed.
Glancing at the clock, watching the minute hand crawl towards midnight, Ashley did something she had never done in her near twenty-eight years of life. She made a New Year's resolution. This year she would ask her father the question that burnt her most: Why?
. . .
All you have to do is know where you're going. The answers will come to you of their own accord.
Earl Nightingale, Author
