-Fifty One-

I just stared at her blankly, I couldn’t think of one thing to say to her, not even a half coherent sentence. Art hadn’t moved from his position by the doorway since he had closed the door upon entering. We were both in complete shock.

Donna and a female about her age with long, brown, wavy hair pulled back into a pony-tail and thinner glasses with wide rims were standing near the door, looking at me as if I should make the first move, both just waiting for my response. She was skinny enough, and had the right height and shape of face. There was no denying it. “You’re related to my-” I couldn’t bring myself to say the words.

She nodded. “I’m your aunt, on your father’s side.” She said in a voice that belonged in a library more than it did in here. “I never even realized that he had ever had children until I saw you on tv some time ago, but there was no denying it, you look exactly like he did at your age.”

I resisted the urge to wince and turn away, although I did flinch. She obviously had no clue. She was looking at me so eagerly when she had said it that it was obvious that she knew nothing about the last few years of her brother’s life.

When I didn’t say anything to her comment she continued eagerly. “Mark and I had a falling out many years ago, but then again, we never really did see eye to eye, and, well, when I saw you I knew I had to find you and see if I could pick up the missing pieces.”

I sighed. “Are you sure you want them?”

She blinked, smile catching somewhere. “What do you mean?”

I sighed again. “Do you really want to know what happened to him?”

She blinked in surprise. “Of course, why wouldn’t I?”

“Not many would take the news well.”

“I know he’s deceased, if that’s what you mean. I found that out in the middle of my search trying to find you.”

I shook my head. “It’s not just that, it’s what happened before, it’s how he died.”

“What do you mean?”

“He was, well, abusive to-”

“Are we talking about the same person?” She asked in surprise. “He was always the most sweet, gentle, kind creature you could ever imagine-”

I shook my head and had to turn away from the sickly-sweet images I knew to be all too false. “I doubt he was ever like that. You’re probably just candy-coating things.”

“What do you mean?!” She asked, voice raising in hysterics. “He was never-”

“Then why did he kill his wife, the person who birthed me, in a fit of rage one night, then kill himself?” I asked her as I turned back around, eyes blazing, hands clenched.

Now it was her turn to go speechless. Her mouth dropped open. “You have to be mistaken, what’s your last name-”

“I don’t know, I never had one until a couple years ago.”

She sighed. “That proves it then. Mom and Dad were hippies, thought a person should make their own past and future, said that one should make a name for themselves. They changed it to nothing when they married.”

I blinked, thought about saying something about the irony of it, but decided against it.

“I can’t believe what your saying, he was always-”

I sighed. “The last time someone had a hard time believing in the true nature of my biological parents it didn’t go well for me. Well, it wasn’t the last time, but the time before last, you could say.”

“What do you mean, it didn’t go well for you? What happened?”

I sighed and showed her my right hand, making sure she had full view of the burns on my fingers. She gasped as soon as she realized what they were, and grabbed it loosely and pulled it towards her to study it closer like she thought it an allusion. “Who did this?”

“My-aunt. Mark’s wife’s sister.” I didn’t even want to use names, but it was more bearable then using any word that would make it sound like they had ever been parents to me.

She looked up in surprise at my face. “Why?” She gasped as she finally saw the scars through the bumps on my face. “What-?”

“She thought that-”

“Can I touch them?”

I blinked. “You want to-touch-them?” I was taken aback. “Why?”

“May I?” She asked again.

“Okay-” I agreed reluctantly. I’m not even entirely sure why I agreed.

As her hand reached up to my face, her eyes closing as she touched it, it all seemed to move in slow motion. The moment she touched me I felt a shock as memories came to the surface from the day my aunt cursed me, intermingled with flashes of the day she was in our house, causing me pain with a thought.

It seemed like forever, and it also seemed like a second, before I reached out, grabbed her arm, and pulled her away. My skin was on fire where she had touched me. “What-was-that?” I gasped.

She was pale. “I’m sorry! You’re right. He did, he was-”

I sighed but said nothing.

“I shouldn’t have done that, had I known-” She turned away and didn’t look at me as I rubbed the sore spots. “I’ll leave you now.”

“Leave? What? I-” But she was already walking towards the door, so I got there and caught her before she could leave.

This time when I touched her flashes of two children playing came to my mind, one looked like her, the other-

I let go and looked at her, and realized she was crying. “I’m so sorry.” She sniffed. “Had I known.”

“It’s okay, honest. Say, I didn’t catch your name-”

She broke down into full-fledged sobs then, so naturally I hugged her, not knowing what I had said to make her so upset.

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Just so you all know, this is pretty much the end of what I have of this book. I do have one more, but I’m not cruel enough to post a half written chapter, so I’m thinking I’ll finish it sometime and post it up then. Hopefully it won’t be too long before it happens, but don’t be surprised if it is.

Mya

P.S. Thanks again for all you who are actually reading/reviewing this!!