The Past....What Comes Back To Haunt Us - 5
Thalia confronting her mother...
Sorry, took awhile. But it was Thanksgiving!! anyway,.... Myla-> thanks!1 first sex scene I've ever written, I'm glad you thought it was good. And Vicki-> I'm having the WORST time looking for pictures of the boys, so if you or ANYONE could look for some, I'd be superduper happy :)
Chapter 4:
That night all Thalia could think about was the last conversation she had with him. She had accused him of cheating, something that she, until she heard the 'rumor' from Julia, was almost completely sure Martin would never do to her. But then again, when was the last time she was ever able to completely trust in her life? Not her brother, he would sell her out if he thought it was the right thing. Not her father, who was always seen with a glass of scotch complaining of his alleged ulcers he got when his brother died. Not her mother, the crazy lunatic who was always telling her to 'never set a candle before sundown' and 'be careful what you wish for'. But.... wait. Be careful what you wish for. That was it, wasn't it? Thalia recalled their last conversation:
"Well I hope you hit your head so hard you never wake up!" a flash of heat and anger shot through her, and she suddenly felt all powerful, a wave of strength rushing through her. She shoved his hands from his shoulders and he stumbled back because of the abnormal amount of power behind the push.
She had felt something then, something strange. And then for the rest of the day she felt oddly drained, like she had been lifting weights all the day before and her muscles were uncooperative and jelly like. Would her mom know what was happening? She had to. She was the one who gave her the advice in the first place. Then again, it could have just been a saying. But is that a normal thing for a mother to say to her child almost constantly? No. It wasn't. If there was one thing Thalia knew, it was that this wasn't normal. This wasn't some puberty thing she could go and talk to her friends about. This was weird, and if anyone knew anything, it would be her mother.
------------------------------------------>
Georgia Hanson came home that day from work exhausted, but her brown hair and stature as perfect as her daughter's. She stomped in through the door and headed straight towards the liquor cabinet, when she heard a loud cough from behind her. Spinning around, Mrs. Hanson saw her daughter, Thalia, looking at her from the kitchen table. She was leaning forward with her head on her hand and her makeup was smudged like she'd been crying. There was a curious look in her eye, as if she was suspicious.
"Hi honey," her mother said cautiously, "what are you doing?"
"Just waiting for you to get home," Thalia's tone was sarcastic and sassy. She looked down at her hands. "Do you know what happened today?"
"No, I don't." Mrs. Hanson was frustrated for being forced to talk instead of having that dear glass of wine like she wanted to.
"My boyfriend, Martin?" Thalia looked up to make sure her mother remembered him,
"Yes, that nice boy who came over in the summer. He's your boyfriend?"
"Well, .....um.... yeah. Today, he fell down during a soccer game and hit his head."
"Really?" She recalled a scene from the summer:
The grass was dead and the air stagnant, but for some reason, Thalia and Martin were still outside. Loading the dishwasher with plates from dinner, she looked outside the side window and realized she couldn't see them anymore. Being off from work and playing the 'concerned mother', she scrambled to the back door to look out and find them. Running across the tile in her high heels, she threw the door open and a wave of undeniable heat hit her, instantly making her sweat. She scanned the backyard, and finally saw them, sitting on a branch about a story up in the old oak tree. Mrs. Hanson smiled to herself, remembering what it was like to be in young love. Her and her husband's spark had disappeared long ago. Her lips turned up in the corners, she looked up again, but more closely. Squinting her eyes, she frowned. They were making out! Did they know how dangerous that was? She called to them.
"Kids!" she shouted. Big mistake. The noise startled Thalia, who moved backwards rapidly against the trunk. Martin, who was holding on to her, was jolted by her movement and put off balance. He started to fall.
"MARTIN!!" Thalia screamed, and reached a hand down in an attempt to catch him. But by this time, he was already falling out of reach. But suddenly, you could blink and miss it, he was hanging by one arm from a branch halfway down the tree. Using his strength, he pulled himself up and grabbed hold of the branch with his other hand. He pulled himself with ease into a sitting position on the branch. Mrs. Hanson's heart was pounding and she was hanging onto the door for support because of the shock. Thalia looked in hysterics as she rapidly made her way down the tree, until Martin told her to slow down and be careful.
"I'm fine, babe," he kept repeating, "I don't want you hurting yourself because of me." As soon as she climbed down to his branch, she started inspecting him, grabbing his arms and checking them for scrapes and bruises, him all the while trying to reassure her that he wasn't hurt. "All I got is that scratch on my face, Tall". She grabbed his face urgently then, and turned it at different angles to assess the damage. There was a tiny bloody scrape on his cheek, about an inch and a half long. Martin was smiling in adoration at her antics. Thalia nodded her head, still in slight shock.
"You're okay.....you're okay...." she kept repeating, mostly to herself. Her fingers were stroking Martin's cheeks. He took her hands from his cheeks and kissed them, nodding.
"I'm okay." he whispered to her. He took her by the face and kissed her forehead. "It's okay." He held her for a while, while she cried into his shirt about what she thought would have been his death. Mrs. Hanson still stood at the door in shock, still not knowing if he was okay or not. When they started to climb down the tree she was relieved, until she saw her daughter's face when they got to the ground. She was furious. Walking up to her mother, her face was red when she started to scream at her.
"How did he fall?" questioned Georgia, looking at her daughter curiously, but her daughter looked back at her with an even glare.
"It doesn't matter." she said, still holding eye contact with her mother. "But what does matter was what happened earlier that day. Can you guess what that was?" Mrs. Hanson's face clouded over, and her expression turned blank. She turned around again to face the liquor cabinet, and spoke.
"No, sweetie" she said slowly, "what happened earlier?"
"I wished something would happen, and it did." Thalia got up from out of her chair and started to walk over to her mother, standing next to her and staring her inquisitively in the face as she asked something again. "Can you explain why that happened?" Mrs. Hanson visibly gulped as she averted her eyes from her daughter's.
"I don't know," she said, grabbing a bottle of Pino Grigio from the cabinet. She made her way back to the table. "Coincidence?"
"You and I both know that it was not a coincidence mom." Mrs. Hanson swung around to face her daughter.
"No," she said sternly, "I know it was a coincidence, and if you knew what was good for you, you'd know it's a coincidence also. Now, if you'll excuse me, I don't want to talk about it anymore." Her mother slowly turned back to the Pino Grigio and poured herself a glass. Thalia was still standing behind her, startled by her outburst. When she realized that her mom really was done talking, she turned around and stalked up the stairs.
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Chapter 4:
That night all Thalia could think about was the last conversation she had with him. She had accused him of cheating, something that she, until she heard the 'rumor' from Julia, was almost completely sure Martin would never do to her. But then again, when was the last time she was ever able to completely trust in her life? Not her brother, he would sell her out if he thought it was the right thing. Not her father, who was always seen with a glass of scotch complaining of his alleged ulcers he got when his brother died. Not her mother, the crazy lunatic who was always telling her to 'never set a candle before sundown' and 'be careful what you wish for'. But.... wait. Be careful what you wish for. That was it, wasn't it? Thalia recalled their last conversation:
"Well I hope you hit your head so hard you never wake up!" a flash of heat and anger shot through her, and she suddenly felt all powerful, a wave of strength rushing through her. She shoved his hands from his shoulders and he stumbled back because of the abnormal amount of power behind the push.
She had felt something then, something strange. And then for the rest of the day she felt oddly drained, like she had been lifting weights all the day before and her muscles were uncooperative and jelly like. Would her mom know what was happening? She had to. She was the one who gave her the advice in the first place. Then again, it could have just been a saying. But is that a normal thing for a mother to say to her child almost constantly? No. It wasn't. If there was one thing Thalia knew, it was that this wasn't normal. This wasn't some puberty thing she could go and talk to her friends about. This was weird, and if anyone knew anything, it would be her mother.
------------------------------------------>
Georgia Hanson came home that day from work exhausted, but her brown hair and stature as perfect as her daughter's. She stomped in through the door and headed straight towards the liquor cabinet, when she heard a loud cough from behind her. Spinning around, Mrs. Hanson saw her daughter, Thalia, looking at her from the kitchen table. She was leaning forward with her head on her hand and her makeup was smudged like she'd been crying. There was a curious look in her eye, as if she was suspicious.
"Hi honey," her mother said cautiously, "what are you doing?"
"Just waiting for you to get home," Thalia's tone was sarcastic and sassy. She looked down at her hands. "Do you know what happened today?"
"No, I don't." Mrs. Hanson was frustrated for being forced to talk instead of having that dear glass of wine like she wanted to.
"My boyfriend, Martin?" Thalia looked up to make sure her mother remembered him,
"Yes, that nice boy who came over in the summer. He's your boyfriend?"
"Well, .....um.... yeah. Today, he fell down during a soccer game and hit his head."
"Really?" She recalled a scene from the summer:
The grass was dead and the air stagnant, but for some reason, Thalia and Martin were still outside. Loading the dishwasher with plates from dinner, she looked outside the side window and realized she couldn't see them anymore. Being off from work and playing the 'concerned mother', she scrambled to the back door to look out and find them. Running across the tile in her high heels, she threw the door open and a wave of undeniable heat hit her, instantly making her sweat. She scanned the backyard, and finally saw them, sitting on a branch about a story up in the old oak tree. Mrs. Hanson smiled to herself, remembering what it was like to be in young love. Her and her husband's spark had disappeared long ago. Her lips turned up in the corners, she looked up again, but more closely. Squinting her eyes, she frowned. They were making out! Did they know how dangerous that was? She called to them.
"Kids!" she shouted. Big mistake. The noise startled Thalia, who moved backwards rapidly against the trunk. Martin, who was holding on to her, was jolted by her movement and put off balance. He started to fall.
"MARTIN!!" Thalia screamed, and reached a hand down in an attempt to catch him. But by this time, he was already falling out of reach. But suddenly, you could blink and miss it, he was hanging by one arm from a branch halfway down the tree. Using his strength, he pulled himself up and grabbed hold of the branch with his other hand. He pulled himself with ease into a sitting position on the branch. Mrs. Hanson's heart was pounding and she was hanging onto the door for support because of the shock. Thalia looked in hysterics as she rapidly made her way down the tree, until Martin told her to slow down and be careful.
"I'm fine, babe," he kept repeating, "I don't want you hurting yourself because of me." As soon as she climbed down to his branch, she started inspecting him, grabbing his arms and checking them for scrapes and bruises, him all the while trying to reassure her that he wasn't hurt. "All I got is that scratch on my face, Tall". She grabbed his face urgently then, and turned it at different angles to assess the damage. There was a tiny bloody scrape on his cheek, about an inch and a half long. Martin was smiling in adoration at her antics. Thalia nodded her head, still in slight shock.
"You're okay.....you're okay...." she kept repeating, mostly to herself. Her fingers were stroking Martin's cheeks. He took her hands from his cheeks and kissed them, nodding.
"I'm okay." he whispered to her. He took her by the face and kissed her forehead. "It's okay." He held her for a while, while she cried into his shirt about what she thought would have been his death. Mrs. Hanson still stood at the door in shock, still not knowing if he was okay or not. When they started to climb down the tree she was relieved, until she saw her daughter's face when they got to the ground. She was furious. Walking up to her mother, her face was red when she started to scream at her.
"How did he fall?" questioned Georgia, looking at her daughter curiously, but her daughter looked back at her with an even glare.
"It doesn't matter." she said, still holding eye contact with her mother. "But what does matter was what happened earlier that day. Can you guess what that was?" Mrs. Hanson's face clouded over, and her expression turned blank. She turned around again to face the liquor cabinet, and spoke.
"No, sweetie" she said slowly, "what happened earlier?"
"I wished something would happen, and it did." Thalia got up from out of her chair and started to walk over to her mother, standing next to her and staring her inquisitively in the face as she asked something again. "Can you explain why that happened?" Mrs. Hanson visibly gulped as she averted her eyes from her daughter's.
"I don't know," she said, grabbing a bottle of Pino Grigio from the cabinet. She made her way back to the table. "Coincidence?"
"You and I both know that it was not a coincidence mom." Mrs. Hanson swung around to face her daughter.
"No," she said sternly, "I know it was a coincidence, and if you knew what was good for you, you'd know it's a coincidence also. Now, if you'll excuse me, I don't want to talk about it anymore." Her mother slowly turned back to the Pino Grigio and poured herself a glass. Thalia was still standing behind her, startled by her outburst. When she realized that her mom really was done talking, she turned around and stalked up the stairs.
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