Same stuff applies. This chapter is a flashback. And within the flashback, there's another one. You'll figure it out.
A Chance for Unrequited Love (Part II)
====================
"So, what was your childhood like?"
I looked up into his blue eyes and laughed softly.
"What?"
Nobody's ever asked me that before.
He reached out, tucking a loose strand of hair behind my ear. "They should."
So, I told him my life story, and he listened like a child in awe at a fairy tale.
I told him I grew up like most eldest children grew up, respected, trusted, looked up to, and of course inwardly tortured. I had a sister to whom I was constantly being compared. We were exact opposites. She was obedient, I broke any and all rules. She never touched or even came a hundred feet from drugs and alcohol, I tried everything you could ingest. She was the good student, I was the bad. She was musical and could play any instrument, I didn't even know how to hum in tune. She kept in contact with the family, I left home when I turned sixteen to be disowned when I returned at eighteen. And as different as we both were, she cried the night I told her I was leaving, and followed my footsteps to Sin City years later. She knew who she was inside, I spent a lifetime trying to figure out who I was.
"Do you miss your parents?"
No, I said laconically, No, I don't.
He didn't answer, waiting for me to elaborate. I looked away for a moment, staring at the hardwood floor of his spacey townhouse.
I never told anyone this before, I started.
"So, tell ME." He said gently.
I was thirteen. I remember it as if it were only five minutes ago. God, I can still hear the screaming...
==========
"You're worthless. If I weren't here, nothing would work right."
==========
My mother was crying. She was yelling back, but my father's voice drowned her out easily. I was lying in bed listening to all this. So finally, I made the stupid mistake of going to the kitchen and watching from the door.
==========
"Look at me, you bitch."
She raised a bruised face to her husband from the floor.
I winced seeing her like that. I watched him hit her. I watched him beat her until she was lying in a helpless heap on the linoleum tiles. I could almost feel the pain inflicted on her myself.
His eyes suddenly turned on me, like he knew I was standing there the whole time. Our eyes locked in an instant. My eyes were exactly like his, blue. But tears in mine, remorse in his. But in his remorse, I knew he wouldn't apologize. I knew he wouldn't even say anything. I knew if I ran, he wouldn't come after me. So I didn't wait. I turned on my heels, and sprinted to my room, burying my face into my pillow, hoping to suppress my anger, hatred, and all the emotions that came flooding into me.
==========
My mother never saw me. She never knew I was there watching.
Gil looked at me, his expression in a way I couldn't explain with words. It was sad, but hopeful-like. I really couldn't say.
And every night I lay in bed and bore the pain of knowing my father was beating my mother. And all those nights whenever they fought, I would get out of bed and go to my sister's room, and close her door. I didn't want her to find out. She was only a few years younger than me, but I felt like I had a responsibility to protect her considering neither of my parents were doing it. I swore on my life I would never let her know the pain that I'd known. And she never knew. Not even now. When I turned sixteen, my father left. And then I did too. I couldn't handle it anymore. I moved to Seattle with my boyfriend. We lived there for a year or so, and he left me for an older woman. I returned home to see my mother only to find that my father had returned also. My father disowned me. And my mother, who was always obedient to a fault, followed suit. So that's how I ended up here.
I raised my eyes to Gil's. His subtle smile comforted me.
What are you smirking at? I asked, trying to change the subject.
"You are one hell of a woman, Cath." He paused, and brushed my hair away from my eyes again, "I mean, the way you do things, it's like you have strength enough to take on the whole world on your own."
That sounds good, but I have different plans tonight.
"Really? What?"
I leaned forward and kissed his lips softly, just enough for him to know what I meant.
"Oh."
I smiled lightly, Yeah.
====================
I snapped out of my reverie as Warrick called me.
"Catherine, you all right? I called you seven times."
Sorry, Warrick, I was thinking.
"Yeah, I know." His gaze was intense. I wanted to look away, but I couldn't. "What's bothering you?"
Nostalgia.
A Chance for Unrequited Love (Part II)
====================
"So, what was your childhood like?"
I looked up into his blue eyes and laughed softly.
"What?"
Nobody's ever asked me that before.
He reached out, tucking a loose strand of hair behind my ear. "They should."
So, I told him my life story, and he listened like a child in awe at a fairy tale.
I told him I grew up like most eldest children grew up, respected, trusted, looked up to, and of course inwardly tortured. I had a sister to whom I was constantly being compared. We were exact opposites. She was obedient, I broke any and all rules. She never touched or even came a hundred feet from drugs and alcohol, I tried everything you could ingest. She was the good student, I was the bad. She was musical and could play any instrument, I didn't even know how to hum in tune. She kept in contact with the family, I left home when I turned sixteen to be disowned when I returned at eighteen. And as different as we both were, she cried the night I told her I was leaving, and followed my footsteps to Sin City years later. She knew who she was inside, I spent a lifetime trying to figure out who I was.
"Do you miss your parents?"
No, I said laconically, No, I don't.
He didn't answer, waiting for me to elaborate. I looked away for a moment, staring at the hardwood floor of his spacey townhouse.
I never told anyone this before, I started.
"So, tell ME." He said gently.
I was thirteen. I remember it as if it were only five minutes ago. God, I can still hear the screaming...
==========
"You're worthless. If I weren't here, nothing would work right."
==========
My mother was crying. She was yelling back, but my father's voice drowned her out easily. I was lying in bed listening to all this. So finally, I made the stupid mistake of going to the kitchen and watching from the door.
==========
"Look at me, you bitch."
She raised a bruised face to her husband from the floor.
I winced seeing her like that. I watched him hit her. I watched him beat her until she was lying in a helpless heap on the linoleum tiles. I could almost feel the pain inflicted on her myself.
His eyes suddenly turned on me, like he knew I was standing there the whole time. Our eyes locked in an instant. My eyes were exactly like his, blue. But tears in mine, remorse in his. But in his remorse, I knew he wouldn't apologize. I knew he wouldn't even say anything. I knew if I ran, he wouldn't come after me. So I didn't wait. I turned on my heels, and sprinted to my room, burying my face into my pillow, hoping to suppress my anger, hatred, and all the emotions that came flooding into me.
==========
My mother never saw me. She never knew I was there watching.
Gil looked at me, his expression in a way I couldn't explain with words. It was sad, but hopeful-like. I really couldn't say.
And every night I lay in bed and bore the pain of knowing my father was beating my mother. And all those nights whenever they fought, I would get out of bed and go to my sister's room, and close her door. I didn't want her to find out. She was only a few years younger than me, but I felt like I had a responsibility to protect her considering neither of my parents were doing it. I swore on my life I would never let her know the pain that I'd known. And she never knew. Not even now. When I turned sixteen, my father left. And then I did too. I couldn't handle it anymore. I moved to Seattle with my boyfriend. We lived there for a year or so, and he left me for an older woman. I returned home to see my mother only to find that my father had returned also. My father disowned me. And my mother, who was always obedient to a fault, followed suit. So that's how I ended up here.
I raised my eyes to Gil's. His subtle smile comforted me.
What are you smirking at? I asked, trying to change the subject.
"You are one hell of a woman, Cath." He paused, and brushed my hair away from my eyes again, "I mean, the way you do things, it's like you have strength enough to take on the whole world on your own."
That sounds good, but I have different plans tonight.
"Really? What?"
I leaned forward and kissed his lips softly, just enough for him to know what I meant.
"Oh."
I smiled lightly, Yeah.
====================
I snapped out of my reverie as Warrick called me.
"Catherine, you all right? I called you seven times."
Sorry, Warrick, I was thinking.
"Yeah, I know." His gaze was intense. I wanted to look away, but I couldn't. "What's bothering you?"
Nostalgia.