-1It was starting to rain. A slight drizzle that coated the world in gray and matched the inner turmoil stirring deep within. There had been no rest last night. Just a haunting of memories and an ache that would not cease. The dawn had come with a resigned decision. Perhaps Dr. Hennessy was right. There was much in her life that she regretted. Alex being the least of all. It was just the idea of putting those regrets onto paper. It was like stripping naked during rush hour traffic and just standing there, letting the world see every curve, every bump, every flaw. At one time, that wouldn't have bothered her.
Isobel sits on the edge of her bed, staring toward the cherry wood secretary that sat in the corner of her bedroom. The damn journal lay there, taunting her. This was how it had been since dawn had come. Her sitting there, trying to conjure up enough bravery to bare her soul.
"Honestly, Isobel," she mutters. "Stop being so dramatic. Just do it already." Despite the stern self lecture she still didn't move. It was as though her body was frozen to the edge of that bed. Staring at the journal, hating that she was letting a book control her. "Just do it!" With a determination she had thought dead, she pushes herself off the bed, turning to smooth the spread free of wrinkles.
Taking a deep breath, she stands over the secretary, staring down at the journal. To look at it, one would think it was just a lovely book. Bound in soft brown leather. The pages made of linen. Letting the breath out, she lowers her body to the Chippendale inspired chair that was in front of her desk. With shaking hands, she opens the journal.
A tingle starts in the tip of her fingers, then travels up her arm, spreading over her entire body. It left her head feeling as though she had spun around in circles the way a small child would, arm spread open. It was an odd and confusing feeling. One she tried to shake, but couldn't. Trying to ignore the light headed feeling, she sorts through her collection of pens. The one she pulls out is old, a comfortable companion she had borrowed from Alex but never returned. Whenever something of personal importance needed to be written, it was the pen she chose.
While I feel that this exercise is of no use to me, I am willing to show my cooperation by attempting to do as you have asked. There are many regrets in my life. So many more than there are pages in this journal. The one that stays closest to my heart is Hannah. I don't believe I have ever mentioned her to you. She is a part of my past that I like to keep to myself. I suppose it is because the pain is still so raw after all this time.
She is forty now. With a husband and family. Her husband's name is Richard, and they have two beautiful daughters. Jillian is seventeen and Rachel is twelve. She's a teacher. Teaches the first grade. Her students love her. I know all this because I hired a private investigater some years ago. I keep track of her and her family through him. They don't live very far. A mere seven hour drive to Oregon.
I suppose you are wondering who Hannah is and why she is the regret closest to my heart. She is my daughter. I was only fifeteen when I found out I was pregnant with her. Her father is not important. He was just some boy I knew who said all the right things and made my body feel things it had never felt before. There was no love involved. It had been about sex. Perhaps if love had been involved I would have been more inclined to be selfish. As it was, I knew that I had no life to offer her outside the one fate had given me. I wanted better for her, so I made the choice to give her up for adoption. The couple I chose was nice. They had money. Or at least it seemed like they had money compared to a kid who lived in a two bedroom trailer that had been assembled in 1985. Looking back, they were merely middle class. The deal was for them to keep in touch with me. They did for a while. Around the time I started college, the pictures and letters stopped. It hurt at first, but then I figured it was for the best.
I didn't start thinking about looking for her until I realized I was never going to be a mother. I suppose I wanted to fill that void in some way. So, I looked for Hannah. While I had nothing to do with the person she became, I am quite proud of her. That pride doesn't stop me from wondering what she would have been like had I kept her…
The pen falls from her hand as the light headedness takes control. Closing her eyes, she tries to ignore the way the room was spinning, shifting….
A/N I am sorry that it has taken me so long to update this fic. Please R/R.
