Mystery
Date Published: June 26, 2020
Publisher: Jan-Carol Publishing, Inc.
Seventeen-year-old Jerrod has struggled with the guilt of his actions for an event that took place almost a year ago. His friends have abandoned him, his family ignores him, and he lost his best friend. To make matters worse, he was unable to access records that may have revealed his father's whereabouts. His sister, Ella, guides Jerrod as he tries to learn and accept secrets his family has tried to hide. However, a sinister spirit may be influencing Ella's actions, and it has an agenda of its own.
Excerpt
I had been thinking a long time about the
past, and early morning light had run away the shadows. I didn’t want to relive
those terrible moments in time, but my mind kept pushing me back to them.
My mother’s bedroom door creaked open,
and her feet padded softly down the carpeted hallway. I thought she would go
downstairs, but her footsteps stopped outside of my room.
I lay frozen on my bed, looking at the
door. I could hear my mother’s breath, soft and sad.
The knob turned, and the door inched open
slowly. My mother stood in the doorway with a laundry basket against her hip.
Oh, she was putting away laundry. No big
deal.
“Hey, Mom,” I said, rising from my bed.
“I’ll get that for you,” I offered, motioning to the laundry basket.
My mother didn’t move or look at me. She
seemed like she was unsure about something.
She was trying to get her emotions under
control, but she let a tear fall as she looked at the floor. “I never blamed
you,” she whispered. “You never hurt anyone.”
The last words seemed to be too much for my mother, and she burst into tears. I watched her with my hands up. What was I supposed to do?
Before I could decide on a course of action, my mother turned around and closed my door. I lowered my hands and stared at the door.
I had waited almost a year for my
mother’s forgiveness. Now that she had pardoned me, I still felt cold and
alone. I had pictured us holding and hugging each other, but my mother had left
without a show of affection.
My mother may have been trying to keep
her emotions in check, like her father had taught her to do when she was young.
She was probably ashamed of her tears. Besides, she was from the city, and city
girls weren’t supposed to cry.
I settled under my comforter and tried to
push the gnawing emptiness away. I tried to pretend my twin was on the bed
above me and that he was only sleeping. I wanted to talk to him, and I knew he
would understand.
No matter how mad I made him, he always
listened to me and tried to help.
The morning light landed on Josh’s model
car collection, but it was dusty and mostly forgotten. One of the models was
missing because of me.
I enjoyed most of my memories of the
past, but I had been avoiding one of the worst times for our family. My
thoughts shifted back to the day I had hidden my brother’s favorite model truck
in the kitchen stove.
It was nice to hear that my mother didn’t
place blame on me, but her actions over the past year suggested otherwise. We
both knew I had hurt a lot of people during my seventeen years, and Josh wasn’t
the only brother who had died because of me.
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