Sometimes hearing lies is easier than hearing the truth
“Okay…What?” Nate asked me, he seemed more worried than before.
I told Nate my visions, every detail. How emotional I felt, how I couldn’t stop them popping up in my mind. How I couldn’t control…
After I had finished I quickly added, “Was that you?”
His eyes were not on me, instead he was looking at the glass door, and into nowhere.
There was silence, he did not answer and I did not question.
Suddenly, he looked back at me, “…Yes.” –was all he seemed to say.
“But I thought you said-”
“I lied, Samantha.”
“Oh. Um… Shall we sit down?”
He agreed, and he moved over to his couch.
“You don’t have to tell me the truth if you don’t want to…”
“No, no. You’ve already seen two of the most tragic days of my life. I think you may as well know the rest.”
“How did I see that?” I asked, unable to tell for myself.
“I-I don’t know. I was thinking about my mother, and it brought back emotions of the day she left… and other things.”
“…and you were touching my shoulder…” I said slowly. Then enquired, “Maybe… you shared your emotions with me!”
“Maybe… look do you want to hear my story? I don’t think I can hold it in any longer.”
I nodded, then waited for him to begin.
“Almost everything that I had told you the first day we met was a lie. The truth is… hard. And not something I usually like to share.”
His eyes, again, looked out the glass window.
“I would like to start with why my mother left that day… but I can’t. I knew she never really looked at me like other mothers do to their children. She kind of looked at me as… another problem in her life. Being a single mum it was very hard for her. Some might say that’s why she left, but I doubt it can be. We had spent almost everyday at my grandparents place, they helped a lot. As you came probably tell, she was normal, she didn’t have any powers or anything.
“Then, the day she left I was so alone. I was only four, for crying of loud! She left me alone on the streets at four. That night, I tried to remember where my grandparents lived, but I couldn’t. I searched and searched, until finally I was picked up by the police
“The police took me to the station, put a review on the television, and even went back and search my old house. But there was nothing and no one to be found. My mother had just ran, and left me behind. So I’m pretty sure she never cared for me…
“I loved the police station, watching all the policemen and women fight crime and make the town a better place, but sadly, that night I was taken to the only place I could go-an orphanage.
“The orphanage was an awful place, the food tasted like crap and the Sister’s weren’t friendly, neither were the other children that were there. Especially to me, being new, I was always the main subject of pranks and jokes.
“After months with no answer from my mother, or even grandparents, I was put up for adoption. And because of my age, I got snagged up pretty quickly…”
The paused to sigh, “If only…” He began, only to stop, then continue with his story.
“The ‘new parents’ I had to go home were not what you could call enjoyable to be around. My father was an alcoholic and my new mother seemed, I guess, to be fine at first. Before she never let my father lay a hand on me, unfortunately letting him take all his anger our on her. This, led me to believe I was loved, and I was happy. In later years, my mother had enough of father hitting her, and got hooked on heroine, thinking it would make everything be okay. Now being a junkie, she was useless against my father, and he begun hitting me. The day you saw was the first time he had ever hit me… I was in hysterics.
“I never lied to you about the car crash, that part did happen. But what I didn’t tell you was why. The day of the crash, my father was in the passengers seat in the front. I was still on my learners. He had beaten me, again, then forced me to drive him to the pub. In the car I remember him saying, ‘No wonder that bitch of a mother left you all those years ago. You are a worthless piece of shit. And as for your mother, I hope that day she ended up lying in a ditch somewhere.’
“The words he spook about me didn’t bother me, but my mother, it made something inside me snap; like a rubber band. I sat silently for the rest of the trip, until we reached the pub. I put my foot down as hard as I could, aiming for the pub. Leaving the bastard to die in the place he loved more than his family. And… well you know the rest.”
I gasped, I knew Nate was many things… but a murderer. Suddenly, another death sprung into my mind.
“And… your mother-your adopted mother…what happened to her after you got out of ETRF?”
“Well… I’m not actually sure. I don’t know if what happened to her was a mistake, or just guilt. Knowing what I did, and why. But most of all, how she let it happen.”
I sat watching his face move, every time he spoke of his second family, and what had happened, his whole face twisted into a frown.
“If you hadn’t already guessed… she overdosed.”
Unlike the other, the sudden urge of emotion I received was of anger and hate.
I saw images of Nate being hit over and over again. He was only a child, defenceless of what his father was doing to him. Then, images of his mother, thin and pale, lying on the floor of a kitchen with eyes staring vacantly.
“Stop it!” I yelled, “Stop touching me!”
Nate backed away, “Sam, I’m not touching you!”
He kept screaming, but I couldn’t hear his words.
Visions of his fathers lifeless body, he was bleeding so much, I couldn’t even tell where the blood was coming from.
And if that hadn’t already disturbed me enough; I then saw Nate smile.
He too was in a bloody mess, but he survived. He survived, the drunken bastard didn’t, and he won.
Happiness fell over me, like a daze, he was free.
The images faded away and I was suddenly looking back at Nate’s face, his eyes begging for forgiveness.
More anger swept inside of me, but this time it was my own.
“You murdered him. You murdered him and you were happy?”
“Please, let me-” His voice sounded generally sorry, but I didn’t care.
Standing up, I towered over him, “You showed no remorse for your actions that day. I feel sorry for what he did to you and your mother, I do, but why didn’t you just leave?”
He opened his mouth, about to speak, but I stopped him, putting one hand above his face.
“You know what? I don’t care.” I turned and started walking to my bedroom,
“Samantha…” he started, trying to reach out to my hand.
Staring back at him in expiration, I said, “It’s totally fine. I’m okay. I just want to go to bed. Goodnight Nate.”
He didn’t speak, he just hung his head.
I never spoke or saw him again that night. I just went straight to my room, and closed the door.
Sometimes hearing lies is easier than hearing the truth