Escaping Parker - F.T. Zele Page 0,79
and the choice I made wasn’t just my own. I couldn’t allow this to continue and happen to another person. I felt a huge responsibility to make the choice that I did, and it happened in a split second.
As I sit here thinking about everything that has taken place, there’s a knock on the door. I get up quickly, hoping whoever is here doesn’t wake Rig, who is finally napping after a long two days.
When I reach the door, my mom is standing there. I have avoided this conversation for long enough, and she wants answers.
“Hey, Mom,” I say as she wraps her arms around me, but I stop her from moving forward into the room.
“How’s Rig doing?” she asks, peeking in as he sleeps.
“He’s resting. Each day is getting better. Let’s go get some coffee from that cart out front.” Brushing past her, I lead the way out of the room.
“Sounds good.” Once we get to the elevator, she turns to me and says, “I’m not a horrible mother am I?” Sadness plasters all over her face.
“Why would you even ask that? Of course you aren’t,” I answer honestly.
The elevator finally opens, and we get in, glad to be the only ones on it.
“I didn’t protect you, and I didn’t pick up the signs. When I think about it now, I feel so ashamed.” She starts to get choked up, reaching out and grabbing my hand.
“It’s ok. There really wasn’t anything I did to make it known. I hid behind my work. I just didn’t want to feel like a disappointment. I always felt like I wasn’t good enough, and letting this secret out would have proven how incapable of making my own decisions I really was,” I finally admit everything I have felt growing up, and I’m so embarrassed I can’t even look at my mom.
The elevator opens, giving me a moment to breathe before this conversation keeps going.
My mother stops me before moving on, placing both hands on either side of my cheeks, making me look her into tear-filled eyes. “Don’t think for one second you weren’t good enough for us. I’m so sorry if you have felt like that, but you have made me and your father prouder than any parents could ever be. You have always been so independent, never needing much from us, and flourishing on your own. You graduated early, put yourself through school. You’re everything we imagined and more. I don’t understand why you didn’t think about telling us, so we could help you. That’s what we are there for; you’re never too old to need your parents.”
“I don’t think you could understand why I did what I did, other than the fact that I would’ve put you guys in danger. He threatened the safety of my family. I couldn’t let my bad choices become your problems, so I tried to figure it out on my own. I thought I was finally free, not knowing he was watching me the whole time.”
“All we care about is that you are here safe. I can’t even tell you how scared we were.” She swipes away her tears. “We thought we lost you. We went months thinking you were dead. We actually got this phone call one day: nobody was on the phone, it was just silence, and I prayed it was you. That’s when it hit me that you were really gone.”
“Mom that was me. I’m the one that called, but Rig saw and ended the call. It was a stupid thing for me to do. I knew I wasn’t supposed to do it, but I just needed to hear your voice.”
“Oh God, I prayed it was you. So, tell me more about Rig. He seems like a really nice guy, and I’m so grateful for him. He kept you safe? Where have you been this whole time?” she asks as we walk up to the little cart to order our coffee. Then we sit in the waiting area.
“Let’s see . . . where I have been? I’ve been around this whole damn country keeping invisible. We’ve been down South, a bunch of places I can’t even say because I’m not really sure. I gave up on knowing because it wouldn’t have made a difference, and as long as I had Rig navigating, there wasn’t any reason to know. It seems as though the more I knew, the more I was upset.”
“Sounds like it’s been a long six months for you. So what do