Midnight Secrets

Chapter 13

I yawned as I rolled out of bed, my long blonde hair a tangled mess. I stretched my arms above my head and let out a satisfying groan. It was another day, and I was determined to make the most of it.

With a few wobbly steps, stumbled blearily into the bathroom and flicking on the light. As I washed my face and brushed my teeth, my mind started to swirl with my to do list of the day. It seemed like it was never ending with my life. The more things that I had to do, the lower my own mental health fell in the list. And I knew that would catch up to me soon enough,

After drying off, I padded back into my bedroom and rummaged through my closet for something to wear. I settled on a comfortable pair of flared pants and a crisp white shirt. I quickly dressed and ran a brush through my hair, pulling it back into a sleek ponytail. Nothing screamed having my shit together than a sleek ponytail. And right now, I needed to fool myself and alter my brain chemistry that I had my shit together.

Next, it was time for makeup. I wasn't one to wear a lot, but I liked to at least put on a bit of foundation and mascara to brighten up my face. I applied a light coat of foundation, followed by a swipe of mascara. With my appearance taken care of, I grabbed my bag and headed for the door. I had a long day ahead of me, but I was ready for it.

Walking along the quiet hallways always felt like a mission to conquer every morning. The echoing sound of my heels filled the air around me. The sharp, rhythmic noise was like a drumbeat, announcing my presence and my determination.

But the sound came to a sudden halt when my body froze in front of a door. It was slightly ajar, something very unusual. With no thinking at all, I rested my hand on the door handle and I pushed it open. As I walk into the quiet bedroom, the opulence of the space is not lost on me. The walls are painted a warm cream colour and adorned with gold-framed art. The king-sized bed sits in the centre of the room, covered in plush white linens and piled high with fluffy pillows.

But despite the luxury surrounding me, I can't shake the feeling of sadness that weighs heavy on my heart. I walk over to the bed and sit down, letting out a sigh. This room, which once brought me so much joy, now feels empty and cold without the presence of my loved one.

I run my hand over the smooth silk sheets, recalling the countless nights we spent wrapped up in each other's arms. Tears prick at the corners of my eyes as I think about all the memories we made in this room.

But now, they are just that - memories. And as I sit here, surrounded by the trappings of wealth and success, I can't help but feel a sense of emptiness and longing.

"Mum, I wish you were here right now." I whispered to the empty walls. I could imagine her soft voice responding back to me. Baby, I am.

Things would have been more manageable with my mum here. And I always had this inkling that I would not have gone on this career path if she was still in my life. Although my dad made it incredibly difficult to have his walls breached, my mum always somehow seemed to find little gaps she could fit into.

I can't help the feeling of longing that wells up inside me as I think about my relationship with my father. No matter what I do, it seems like I can never quite measure up in his eyes. He's always been a hard taskmaster, expecting nothing but the best from me.

I've always tried my best to meet his expectations, to be the perfect daughter he wants me to be. I've worked hard in school, excelled in extracurricular activities, and made a name for myself in the community. But no matter how much I achieved, it never seems to be enough for him.

I can't help but wonder what it would be like to have a father who was proud of me, who appreciated all the effort I put into trying to make him happy. I long for the day when he will look at me with pride in his eyes and tell me that he's proud of the person I've become.

Shaking of this inexplicable feeling that engulfed me, I retraced my steps back out the room. I made sure to firmly close the door behind me. I turned around and suddenly collided with someone coming from the opposite direction. I stumbled and almost fell, but the other person quickly reached out and grabbed my arm to steady me.

"Sorry about that!" I exclaimed, looking up to see Lorna. Her deep eyes glanced over my shoulder, then back at my face again.

"Do you know who left the door open?" I asked her.

She shook her head. "I did not see anyone."

My jaw clenched at knowing someone was in my mother's room. My father never ventured to this part of the house, never mind his old bedroom he used to share with his deceased wife. "I wish I could lock and keep the key on me." I muttered.

Lorna shot me a remorseful smile, knowing that the likelihood of that happened was next to none.

"Did you hear?" Lorna slowly asked, our eyes meeting again. I noticed how still she stood, her watfhcul gaze gawking in my reaction.

"Yes."

"Who told you?"

I raised an eyebrow at her. It was Nate who told me. But for some reason, I wanted to keep that to myself. She knew of him but there was a faint line Lorna was always dancing between. Her loyalties were never clear.

"The news outlets." I answered.

She nodded slowly and let out a deep breathe. "One less monster in town."

I smiled at that. At least that was something we both agreed on.

I gave her shoulder a small touch and walked along the silent hallway. The house is completely silent, as if it feared the wrath that was ready to be unleashed any second. A feeling of unease washes over me as I slowly walked down the stairs.

Despite my nervousness, I continue to walk down the stairs, taking each step slowly and carefully. I know I need to face whatever is waiting for me at the bottom, even if it's something I'd much prefer to avoid.

As I reach the last step, I let out a sigh of relief and try to shake off the strange feeling that has been clinging to me. Nothing was unusually out of space. There was only the heavy weight of death lingering around every corner.

I was just about to head out the door when I noticed movement in the living room. I hesitated, wondering if I should investigate, and then decided to take a quick peek. As I walked towards the room, I saw that it was my dad, sitting in his usual armchair. The room had high ceilings, so it was almost eerie seeing a human sitting alone in the desolate room. Not many people came to the living room.

A bottle of whiskey sat in front of him.

Hesitation made me take smaller steps. I was not sure if I should interrupt him or just leave him be. But something about the way he was sitting there, all alone in the big, dark room, made me feel like if I should interrupt him or just leave him be. But something about the way he was sitting there, all alone in the big, dark room, made me feel like I should say hello or at least give my condolences. Because it was his brother.

So, I walked into the room and approached him, trying to make as little noise as possible. He looked up as I approached, and for a moment I saw a flicker of something in his eyes, but then it as gone, replaced by the usual blank stare.

"Morning, dad." I said softly, afraid if I was going to get shut down again. "My condolences."

He grunted in response, taking a long swig from the bottle. I stood there awkwardly for a moment, not sure what to do. I had always struggled to connect with my father, and this seemed like just another example of how distant and distant he was from me.

"Well, I'll just leave for the office." I said, turning to leave. "I'll be there if you need me."

He didn't respond, and I left the room, feeling a mix of sadness and frustration. I knew that my father had his own demons to deal with, but it was hard not to feel like I was just an afterthought to him. Still, I tried to push those thoughts aside and focus on the tasks that had to be completed today. At least that would make him acknowledge me to some degree.