Our Life Story

Our Life Story







Chapter 1

The Promise

         Dear, Atticus

         I realized that I made a terrible mistake when we adopted Brittany. I thought I was ready to settle down and be a mom, but I’m not. You will never see me again, for I am off to Rome to figure out who I really am and what I really want, Please do not follow me.

         Love, Isabelle

         Atticus read the note again, as if it didn’t make sense the first time.

         Just moments ago, Isabelle had walked out the door after she made him sign the divorce papers.

“Please don’t go,” He begged her.

“I just can’t do this anymore,” Said Isabelle.

“Mommy, where are you going?” Little three year old Brittany asked her.

         Isabelle started toward her and knelt down in front of her. “I’m going away, you won’t ever see me again. Stay with your father and take care of each other.”

         Brittany did not cry like Atticus did when Isabelle left, she stayed strong.

“Daddy, don’t cry,” She said, hugging his legs.

         He looked down at her and gazed into those big brown eyes of hers, and he knew he had to put his devastation in the back of his mind and be strong for her sake.

***

         His neighbor Roseanne Creek was the first to come visit him when he told everyone the news. She came over with her baby daughter, Felicia, in her arms and her five year old son, John.

         While Roseanne and Atticus talked in the kitchen, Brittany and John played outside in the yard; playing tag, hide-and-seek, and power rangers.

         Brittany knew she was in love the moment she saw John when they first moved to Los Angeles, but she would never tell.

         After they finished playing they sat on the swing set to rest.

“I’m really sorry about your mom abandoning you,” Said John.

“It’s okay, I don’t really miss her,” Brittany replied. “I thought it was my fault, but daddy says mommy left because she doesn’t love us anymore, so I  don’t love her anymore either.”

         He grabbed her hand and his brown eyes stared into hers. “No matter what, I’ll always be here for you, because I do love you.”

         She smiled. “You promise?”

         He smiled a smile that made her heart skip a beat. “I promise.”

Chapter 2: Contusions

         Brittany and her friends were busy playing baseball on Natasha Richfield's big, grassy lawn in front of the mansion. Brittany's yard was similar to hers because she also lived in a mansion, except her place had a gate you had to pass through before entering the yard.

         What struck Brittany as odd was the fact that Martin was wearing a long sleeve shirt on a hot summer day. His hair was covering his silver sterling grey eyes, so she couldn’t read the expression on his face, but if she did, she would have seen eyes full of sadness and pain.

“Throw the ball, Brittany!” Louis shouted, holding the bat.

“Oh, sorry!” She yelled back, and threw the baseball.

         Louis hit a home run and Brianna started running toward second base with Martin chasing her, trying to tag her out, but Brianna ran past second base onto third. She would have made it to home base, but Martin eventually caught up to her and tagged her out.

“You’re out!” Said Melvin.

“You kids want some lemonade and fudge brownies?” Natasha’s mother Marie Richfield asked them.

         All of them ran to get brownies and lemonade, except Martin, who decided to sit on the grass, panting and sweating.

“You want a brownie?” Brittany asked him.

         He looked up at her with weary eyes. “No, thank you,” He mumbled.

“Lemonade then? You look parched.”

         He took the lemonade and chugged it down, then let out a big belch that made Brittany laugh instead of frown in disgust. He blushed at the sound of her laughter.

“You would be less sweaty if you took off that shirt,” She said.

“I can’t.”

“Why not?”

         He pulled up one of his sleeves, revealing black and blue contusions on his arms.

“What happened to your arm?”

         He rolled it back down. “Nothing, don’t tell any anyone!” He hissed.

         She hugged him. “ It will be all right, Martin.”

         Martin burst into tears. Brittany just patted his back, not leaving his side.



Chapter 3: Tell Me Why

“I brought Chinese for lunch today-dumplings,” Said Atticus, in the kitchen pouring himself a glass of wine and setting a sprite for Brittany on the table.

“Daddy, can I ask you some questions?” She asked as she sat down at the kitchen table.

“Sure, sweet cake, what is it?”

“What’s it called when a kid has a boo-boo?”

“A bruise.”

“And when they don’t go away?”

“Scars.”

“I think Martin has scars on his arms.”

         Atticus sat down in his chair with a wine glass still in his hand. The smile left his lips, his jaw set, and his face grew serious. Gravity filled the air.

“What color were they?”

“Black-and-blue, and purple.”

“How did he get them?”

         She shrugged. “He wouldn’t tell me.”

“If he won’t tell you, I can’t help you, but I have a hunch that Martin maybe being abused by his parents.”

“What’s abuse?”

“I’ll tell you when you’re older.”  He smiled. “Let’s eat our lunch now, okay?”

         She nodded. “All right.”

***

         When it was time for bed, Brittany felt the need to ask her father one more question before she went to sleep.

         He was just about to leave the bedroom when she called out to him.

“Daddy!”

         He turned around. “Yes, sweet cake?”

“Tell me why you love me.”

         Atticus smiled and sat on the edge of her bed. “I love you because you are my pride and joy, you’re my princess, and you give me the strength I need to push my depression aside and care for you, because I love you so much, sweet cake. You’re the most important thing in the world to me.”

         She beamed at him. “I love you, daddy.”

“I love you to, sweet cake.” He kissed the top of her forehead. “Goodnight.”

“Goodnight.”

Chapter 4 : The Closet

         Avery, Frank, Julius, Alec, and Janet were playing in the living room when Arnold & Agatha walked through the door.

         Arnold dragged Martin in, Martin had a bloody nose and  bruises all over his back and arms, but they were covered by the long sleeve shirt he wore.

“No!” He screamed and started crying.

“No!”

         Arnold threw him in the closet and locked it.

“Let me out!” Martin cried, beating on the door. “Let me out!”

“Shut up you useless piece of shit!” Said Agatha.

         All the children left the room and played elsewhere, ignoring Martin cries, except Janet went to her room, locked the door, and covered her ears, trying to block out his cries as tears ran down her cheeks. She cried for her brother, cried for a better life, and she cried to be older so she could runaway  and live on her own.