Page 78 of Finding Us
My eyes immediately follow his line of sight, and that’s when I see her—my mother—lying at the base, in the foyer. Her body is twisted in a funny position, and there’s a pool of blood near her head.
“What did you do?” I scream as fear grips me.
My father’s gaze snaps in my direction. “Get back to your room!” And although I’m petrified of this man, my legs don’t seem to move.
“Mum,” I call out, and when there’s no response, my pleading eyes move back to him. “Is she okay?”
“I told you to get back to your room,” he bellows.
As soon as he starts to advance on me, I snap out of my daze and retreat a few steps. Turning, I race down the hallway that leads to my bedroom. I can hear thethud, thud, thudof his heavy footsteps as he chases after me. Or maybe that’s the erratic beating of my heart.
Once I’m back in my room, I quickly close the door, clicking the lock. Turning I lean my back against it, trying to get air into my lungs. I jump when I hear him bang on the other side. “If you come out of that room, I’ll beat your arse so bad, you won’t be able to walk for a week. You hear me boy?”
I hate that man with every fibre of my being.
When his footsteps move away, I head towards my wardrobe. Shoving my hanging clothes to one side, I ball up my fist, smashing it straight through the gyprock. The hole it leaves matches all the others. I do this often, it’s my way of releasing the frustration inside me. It also helps that I imagine it’s my father’s face when I do it. I’m only twelve and yet to have a growth spurt, but when I do, he better watch out.
“Oh, my God,” Jacinta utters. “Was your mum okay?”
“I don’t know. When I woke the next morning, he told me she’d left and it was all my fault because she didn’t want to be my mother anymore. I never saw her again.”
“Oh, Mason,” she says, wrapping me in her arms. When I hear her sniffle, I know she’s crying. It has me swallowing back the lump in my throat. “Did you go to the police?”
“How could I? I was a twelve-year-old kid, and I had zero proof that anything untoward had happened. Besides, my father is a Supreme Court judge. He has friends in high places.”
I’ve gone over that night, and the following day, in my head a million times. Sometimes I wonder if it was all a bad dream, but in my heart, I know what I saw. It hasn’t stopped me from looking for her though. I’m always searching … even all these years later.
I walked out of that house not long after my thirteenth birthday and vowed never to return.I haven’t looked back.As daunting, and sometimes terrifying, as it was being so young and all alone on the streets, I felt safer than I ever did under his roof.
I have so many questions, and can only hope that one day I’ll get the answers I’m craving.
“Are you sure you want to do this right now?” Jacinta asks as we step onto the lift, hand in hand.
“Yes. I’m tired of hiding. He deserves to know what’s been going on.”
Neither of us slept well. It’s not how I wanted to spend our first full night together, but maybe now she’ll understand that I’m just as fucked up and damaged inside as she is. We’re both held captive by our pasts, but together, maybe our two halves will make a whole. I can only hope.
I didn’t even get my first ever morning glory, because her phone started blowing up. First it was Connor, then a message came through from Cassandra. I read the exchange over her shoulder.
Cassie: SOS baby girl, the jig is up. Connor busted me sneaking into the apartment five minutes ago, and when he asked where you were, I told him in bed. Of course, I presumed it wasn’t yours, but he didn’t ask for specifics, so technically it wasn’t a lie. How was I to know he’d already checked in your room? How fast can you get down here? I can totally change my story and say you’re downstairs paying the cab driver. That’s plausible right?
Jazzie: It’s okay, Mason and I were going to talk to Connor today anyway. We’re coming down now.
Cassie: Oh boy, well I’m going to go and hide in my room. You know how much I hate confrontation.
Jazzie: Chicken!
Cassie: That’s me. Chirp, chirp.
Jazzie: That’s not the sound a chicken makes.
Cassie: And how would I know that? Just because I sometimes wear beige doesn’t make me an Irwin.
The last part of their message exchange got weird, but it is Cassandra we’re talking about, but it was soon forgotten when Connor started calling my phone. Jacinta begged me to ignore it, but I knew it was only a matter of time before he came banging on my door. He entrusted me to get them home safely last night. So here we are, on our way to her apartment to face the music … or possibly the firing squad.
“We could lie and say nothing happened,” she says.
“No, I want this out in the open, so I’m free to be with you wherever and whenever I want. Besides, we live in the same building, so there’s no plausible reason for you to just stay over?”
