The next day Lexi came over to check up on me. She kept constantly apologizing; her eyes filled with guilt as she explained to me how her parents literally locked her up in her room. They didn’t want her to leave the house when going outside would’ve been suicide. Reassuring her that it was okay; that I totally understand; that there’s no need to feel guilty; that I wasn’t alone and that Adam took care of me, the guilt that was so clear in her eyes was suddenly replaced by mischievousness. Needless to say, she coerced me to ‘spill the beans’ on what happened with Adam and I that night. She’d constantly ‘aw’ from a time to the other as I recapped to her what happened, which would result in an eye roll and an embarrassed smile from me as a response.
That day Lexi swung by is the same exact day Adam taught me something new about myself. Apparently, the reason why I get those attacks during such nights is that they match the night of the accident. As Adam demonstrated, there were strong rain, lightning and thunder on the day of the incident itself. I always thought I was just born with astraphobia, but I never thought my mind mentally related such nights to that dreadful one I lived through. Even though I don’t remember the actual accident, I came up with the conclusion that- subconsciously- my mind is well aware of the damage it did to me.
Secondly, I couldn’t help stop the hurt and fury from rippling through my heart at the knowledge that neither my parents nor my brother called in order to check up on me. Knowing the fact that they are absolutely aware of the amount of torture and physical pain I’m forced to endure in such nights, I couldn’t stop thinking that they did it on purpose. They didn’t call me on purpose. They didn’t send me a voice note on purpose. They didn’t even text me on purpose. Why would they do that? Don’t they care about me? Am I nothing to them? Am I not their daughter anymore? Why couldn’t they swing by this night or even the day after just to show me that they care enough about me? Why couldn’t they knock on Adam’s front door and just pose a simple question such as ‘are you okay’? I mean it’s not like they don’t know where I’m currently at, and my dad’s dreadful car-wrecking mission he set forward is the epitome evidence for that matter.
Lastly, I started creating a tiny plan. Scratch that because it certainly isn’t tiny, and it isn’t literally a plan yet more of a mental mind preparation. When I’m completely positive that I’m done with my mental mind preparation, I can then start looking forward to my mission. This mission is one of the most difficult ones I’ll ever be forced to end. It’s one of those missions that I cannot not do, I cannot back out from, I cannot abort and I cannot, under any circumstances, label it as incomplete. Like any other mission, I gave mine a name.
CONFRONTATION.
That’s what I am planning to do: confront my parents. Although it may be the last thing I want to do; the one thing I cannot willingly look forward to, and the one thing that will either knit back the ripped shreds of fabric- our family bond- or rip it even more, I have to. I have to do this for closure. Maybe I’ll be better off living my life far away, pretending that this knowledge- this dark, twisted game my parents dragged me into- isn’t in the palm of my hands. Maybe I’ll be better off cutting every sort of attachment to them, and maybe I’ll be better off living my life as I’d like to without any further confrontations, but if I do this then it’ll be like an open case and if there’s one thing I’ve learned in life, it’s that without any closure, we will never truly find peace.
We can never truly start over.
We can never truly move on.
Moving on is a great deal for me, and I plan on acing it as I do, even though it’ll be a tough ride. Easier said than done right? With the right approach, though, I believe that I can find closure, and only with closure will I be able to really move on. Now this isn’t like moving on from a bad breakup or moving on from a sinful sin I committed but moving on from something much worse. What tiny yet existent amount of trust I used to hold somewhere inside for my parents, ever since Adam and Lexi came clean to me about my memory loss, is no longer there. When I learnt about Evelyn, the girl they left behind, the trust I had for my parents grandly diminished, but I reassured myself that they surely had a perfect reason as to why they did what they did- as to why they hid from me who I really am was.
Understanding their whole dark truth, millions of emotions swirled inside of me. There was disbelief at first because I couldn’t wrap up my mind around the fact that the same parents who used to care about me so much; the same parents who raised me, and the same parents who made me who I am today are exactly the same ones who destroyed me and snatched my fate away from me. Then there was a pinch of sadness, thinking of how even before I was born, I was and always will be, just a part of their plan- an asset to their business. Lastly
