Status: Finished
Imperfect
Deception
A week later I was in the car with my whole family, driving to Aunt Dana’s. Annalise and Jean Paul were grimfaced, but Mom hummed. Dad was silent as always.
I was fine, looking forward to it even. Aunt Dana had been kind to me when we met. I didn’t realize my family’s deception until we pulled up to a large pair of gates.
‘Thorely Park Home’ read the words on a sign. “Mom? Dad? Why are we here?” Jean Paul put a large hand on my shoulder and squeezed, clearly offering support.
Annalise took one of my hands in hers. She was crying. “Paul? Anna? Seriously, what’s happening?” Annalise shook her head.
When we stopped, in an enclosed, dark room, Mom ushered me out. “Annalise, Jean Paul, stay in the car.” They had tried to follow me out.
“What?” Suddenly strong hands grabbed my wrists and waist, holding me still. I fought to get away, but it was useless.
“Mom!” She leaned out the window. “Belle, this is a mental hospital. We just want you to get better,” she cooed. The truth hit me. They had tricked me here. I struggled harder, feeling my veins stand out. “How could you do this to me? I hate you!”
“I even gave you permission to write,” she continued, like I’d said nothing. “I think you’ll be happy here.” Mom smiled and rolled up the window, clearly preparing to leave.
I went berserk, biting the air, pulling at my holders. “I hate you! I fucking hate all of you! I hope you die!” Tears poured down Annalise’s face, and Jean Paul looked like he was being tortured.
I felt nothing. They hadn’t been strong enough to disobey my parents and save me. “You’re not my family! I fucking hate you!” I screamed. The guards pulled me back, and the car drove away.
I was fine, looking forward to it even. Aunt Dana had been kind to me when we met. I didn’t realize my family’s deception until we pulled up to a large pair of gates.
‘Thorely Park Home’ read the words on a sign. “Mom? Dad? Why are we here?” Jean Paul put a large hand on my shoulder and squeezed, clearly offering support.
Annalise took one of my hands in hers. She was crying. “Paul? Anna? Seriously, what’s happening?” Annalise shook her head.
When we stopped, in an enclosed, dark room, Mom ushered me out. “Annalise, Jean Paul, stay in the car.” They had tried to follow me out.
“What?” Suddenly strong hands grabbed my wrists and waist, holding me still. I fought to get away, but it was useless.
“Mom!” She leaned out the window. “Belle, this is a mental hospital. We just want you to get better,” she cooed. The truth hit me. They had tricked me here. I struggled harder, feeling my veins stand out. “How could you do this to me? I hate you!”
“I even gave you permission to write,” she continued, like I’d said nothing. “I think you’ll be happy here.” Mom smiled and rolled up the window, clearly preparing to leave.
I went berserk, biting the air, pulling at my holders. “I hate you! I fucking hate all of you! I hope you die!” Tears poured down Annalise’s face, and Jean Paul looked like he was being tortured.
I felt nothing. They hadn’t been strong enough to disobey my parents and save me. “You’re not my family! I fucking hate you!” I screamed. The guards pulled me back, and the car drove away.