CHAPTER 1: The separation
I decided to walk home instead of catching a ride in Mr. Jones's wagon. I kicked the pebbles as I walked writing down new ideas in my small notebook for stories. As I passed through the beautiful forest I climbed the hill. Up the top was the best view of my house. We lived on a huge farmland with giant cherry trees which were great for climbing! It was great just like everything was the best it could ever be until I got home that afternoon. Mother was sitting in the living room, red in the face, like she had been crying. She looked up at me with tears in her eyes; I sat next to her and hugged her tight.
"Mother?" I asked her, "Are you ok?"
She looked at me and nodded. I stood up to go into the kitchen to make her a cup of tea. I was ten and couldn't quite reach the top shelves were the cups were. I looked for Father. Nowhere, he was nowhere. I walked back into the kitchen to resume the making of the tea. Father was in there making coffee.
"Father," I giggled, "Mother asked for tea not coffee,"
Father usually got that wrong.
"This is not for your mother sweetie, it is for me," he explained.
I looked at him confusingly. He always made her tea or coffee. Why not now? I resumed trying to get tea off the top shelf. I still couldn't reach. Then mother walked into the room she stopped and stood looking at my dad.
"Oh so came back from your bloody little trip in the car?" she said sternly,
"Yes and I was hoping you wouldn't find out!" he shouted,
"Why would you do this to me!" she shouted back,
"You criticize me and you never appreciate my thoughts! You always say how I have lost my imagination!" he argued,
"It is true! Does that girl of yours have a imagination?" mother screamed,
"Yes but you would never think she does, she is calm and went to proper college for proper people like me and not you!" Dad shouted,
"Just because I didn't go to business college and had fun at my college that was proper doesn't mean anything! You were the one who lost your imagination at that college!" Mother shouted,
They wouldn't stop shouting at each other I backed away scared. There was swearing from both my parents, they never swear like this. Why would they fight, they never fight. I ran into my room crying, everything was falling apart. I soon fell asleep and dreamed about everything being back together. I woke up in the morning to find my mother holding me in her arms. She saw me wake and squeezed me tight.
"Mother, what has happened," I asked,
"Nothing honey just that you won't be seeing me in a while," she was crying,
"Mother why are you crying and where are you going?" I asked her wiping away her tears,
"Honey I am going somewhere far away but hopefully one day you will see me again," she tried to smile,
She handed me something and whispered into my ear,
"Don't forget me or your imagination,"
I looked up at her and she looked down at me, she stood up and left. I opened my clenched hand that was around the object she gave me. I looked at the small piece of silver and examined it closely. It seemed to be a bit of a necklace. Mother's necklace. It was Mother's favorite necklace that once I smashed a bit of it off when I was little and this was the piece.
I heard someone coming up the stairs and quickly put the small piece of silver in my jewelry box. I jumped into bed and pretended to be asleep.
"Arianna? Are you awake?" asked a voice, I recognized it as my Father's voice.
I snored more loudly than usual pretending, but he knew I was just pretending so he walked up to my bed and sat on the end.
"I know you're pretending girl. Where is your mother?" he asked,
"Father, I really have no idea where she is," I said sternly
My Father smacked me as he did not like me being smart with him.
"Father!" I cried, "Why?"
My Father Walked out of my room sternly and closed my bedroom door. I cried as he smacked me so hard it left a mark on my leg where he slapped me. It wasn't as bad as the cane but still bad. I stopped crying and walked outside my room and downstairs to the kitchen. Father was sitting drinking some coffee, he spotted me and gestured to the cupboard.
"You make your own breakfast now," He said trying to stay calm.
I knew from that moment Mother wasn't coming back for she always made me breakfast even if she was gone for that moment there would be my bowl of porridge waiting for me still. She wasn't ever coming back, never. I walked to the cupboard and took out the ingredients to make my porridge. I eventually finished and sat down at the table. My Father looked up at me.
"Where's mine?"
"I didn't make you any becauseā¦"
"Because why?"
"Father please,"
"Just make me some bloody breakfast,"
"Why don't you make your own like you usually do?" I screamed,
I knew I did the wrong thing by saying that and he stole my porridge and told me to go make another for myself. Father was a serious man but Mother always said that he didn't used to be, he was only like that because of college. I walked over to my Father with a new bowl of porridge and placed it down at my seat. He grabbed my hand.
"We shall pray now," he said sternly
I nodded. All I wanted to say was my own prayer but I couldn't disrupt his.
"Lord, we thank you for this food and for the great night I had with Charlotte. I pray she gets pregnant soon and we can start over with a perfect child unlike Arianna, Amen." He said
I didn't say anything but I looked at him. I knew he loved me but it was hard to believe. I mumbled my own prayer for I hated my Father's one and ate.
