We need to get all of the boxes together. He has clearly
been in our lives for a long time. We need to figure out how.” I tell my
family. I push Grace away from my mother and walk her over towards the sofa.
“Where is your box?” I ask her. “It’s in my room.” I look at her. “It is going
to take you a while to walk up there, go get it” I tell her. I know it is mean
to make her get it with her injuries. I however need some time with my parents
alone. She slowly heads up the stairs. My mother and father bring their boxes
into the living room. “Go easy on her. You don’t have to be so hostile with
her.” I tell my mother. “If she would have done something you might still be
you.” I can’t believe her. “I am me. Nothing she could have done that day would
have changed anything. The moment you realize it that is the moment you will
finally get to see your daughter for who she is.” My mother just looks at me.
“The only way I think you can even begin to understand this is for me to put it
this way. You were like a great artist who could create amazing things and he
broke your hands. You can still write but never really create again.” Of course, that is how she looks at it. Why
would she ever look at it any other way?
“Your right I lost my ability to destroy lives without a second thought.
I might not be what you wanted me to be but at least I have a soul.” I tell her
as I walk over to look at all the stuff from the boxes. I start to line everything up in order of
which it came. Just looking at all the pictures, letters and things he has sent
us in order of which it came makes no sense.
After
hours of pouring over every detail we are all exhausted. “We need sleep” my
mother says as she looks over at Grace who is already asleep on the floor. “I
agree” My dad says. “I could use some sleep.” I tell my parents. I shake Grace
awake. “Go to your room” I tell her. She slowly gets up and we all head to our
rooms. I just crash into my bed and pass out. “Cahira” I hear as I roll over.
Enrique has something in his hand. “How did you get in?” I ask him. “You didn’t
lock the window.” He points back at the window. “You need to wake up I got the
footage. It wasn’t easy, and I broke a few laws, actually more than a few but I
got it.” He sounds so excited. I start to get up. “Footage of what??” I look at
Enrique. “I got his face.” I jump out of bed. “Grace’s laptop is in the living
room.” I wave for him to follow me as I run out the door down the stairs to get
it. I turn it on and connect it to the TV. Enrique gives me the microchip that
the video is on. I start to watch it and
at first it is just me standing there when a guy approaches me. I just look at
him with no emotions. He turns and looks up and I can see his face. It hits me,
I remember him. I know who he is and why he took Percy.
I wake
up my parents and Grace. “What is he doing here?” my mother asks. “He got us
this footage.” I tell them as I play it for them. “That’s my imaginary friend”
Grace says. My mother puts her hand over her mouth. “It’s the boy with the
lion.” I turn and look at my mother. “My lion?” I ask. “Yes, oh my….. he was in
your room when you were in a coma. I asked him what he was doing there, and he
said he heard that you got hit by a car and brought you a lion, he said he was
a candy stripper and was moved by your will to survive. There was just
something about him, he was so charming.” Well now I know how I got my lion.
“The hospital is where I met him to” Grace says. I look at my dad. “Well have
you ever met him before?” My dad just stands there looking at the TV. “No I
have not but he looks so familiar.” I can tell my dad can’t put his finger on
why he looks familiar. “Really dad? What about him looks familiar to you?” My
dad looks back at me with a puzzled look on his face. “It’s his eyes. They look
like someone I knew a long time ago.” I go and stand right next to my dad.
“Whose eyes does he have?” I ask my dad. “His eyes look like my high school
sweetheart. If he has her eyes that means……..Wait is he?” My dad ask me. “Yes
he is. Dad you’re looking at your son.” My dad just turns and looks at me.
“That is what seeing his face reminded me of. He kept saying he was my brother.
He just wanted to be with his family that would understand why. He said he couldn’t control it like we could
and that he had killed a few people. He saw me at a fair and just knew I was
like him. He said he followed me home. He said he just wanted to be with his
family.” I look at my dad. “So this is my son.”
No comments:
Post a Comment