good keeps me wanting more
When she woke up, she found herself on the couch in the living room. Her aunt was sitting by her side, rubbing a cool cloth on her head. Maggie looked up at her and saw that her eye was bruised and there was a small drop of dried blood in the corner of her mouth.
Maggie's aunt looked away and said, “ I don't know what happened, but I heard a noise outside and found you laying on the sidewalk. I helped you inside and put you on the couch”. Maggie thought she could detect some shakiness to her aunts voice. She wondered how she got the marks on her face, but she had a feeling she already knew.
“Aunt Carrie, what happened to you? And where is Uncle John?” Her aunt turned around and Maggie saw that she was crying.
“Your Uncle and I had another fight Mags, and this time it got a little out of hand.”
“A little out of hand? Look at your face! Where is that son of a bitch!” Maggie was fervent.
“Just leave it alone Mags. He had a little too much to drink thats all.” She could not believe that she was making excuses for what he had done to her. She sat up slowly from the couch. She had a throbbing headache and felt a little unsteady. She carefully got up from the couch and walked into the kitchen where her aunt was sitting at the table. She was starting to remember a little as to why she had passed out but at the moment she was more worried about her aunt.
She sat down across from her and said, “ Why are you sticking up for him?”
“Its more than that Maggie.”. She was worried. She had never heard her aunt sound so serious before.
“Please tell me whats going on.” Her aunt put out her cigarette, took a sip of her coffee and then folded her hands in front of her.
She looked up and said, “Maggie, we need to talk.” Maggie sat quietly and waited. “Your uncle and I have been talking. You know that there hasn't been much work here, and your uncle has a brother in Denver that has offered him a position at his factory. We are moving there in a week, and we think its best, well, your uncle thinks its best if you don't come with us. I'm sorry sweetie.”
Maggie couldn't believe it. After torturing herself over telling her aunt that she wanted to move and now this. She felt bad but she also felt a little relieved that she didn't have to go through telling her aunt that she was moving anyways. She was feeling confident, so she said, “ Thats fine aunt Carrie because I have been saving my money and I was planning on telling you today that I am going to be moving to New York. I am just wondering, why doesn't Uncle John want me to move with you?”
“Well, he just thinks its time that you are on your own. You are twenty eight years old and besides, I think it would be good for you. You know that you can always call me whenever you want and you can even come and visit us from time to time.” Maggie nodded her head slowly and said simply,
“I'm going to go to my room now. Thanks for the talk and thanks for taking care of me. I hope that Uncle John doesn't do that to you anymore and remember that you can always call me.” With that, Maggie got up and went into her room.
By Thursday she had her room packed and had said her goodbyes to the few friends that she had. She had managed to save close to three- thousand dollars and already had some appointments set up to look at apartments when she got to New York. She was planning on leaving Saturday morning as well as was her aunt and uncle. Since Sunday; her aunt had been quiet and distant and her uncle had barely spoke more than a few words to her. She still didn't know what was going on between them, but she figured it was time to take care of herself now instead of trying to take care of everyone else.
She had been trying to make sense of what had happened to her that Sunday and what those images could of meant. But she became dumbfounded every time she thought about it. She had been having dreams since then about the little girl, but in all the dreams, she could not see the girls face. She wondered if maybe it had something to do with her childhood. She had lived with her aunt and uncle for what had seemed like forever. Anytime that she had asked her aunt about her parents, she always gave the same answer. That there had been an accident, and that there was no one else to take care of her, so her aunt and uncle took her in.
On Thursday afternoon, her aunt and uncle said they were going into town to wrap up some last minute business and wouldn't be back for a few hours. Maggie decided to have a look around the house for anything else that might be hers. She got to her aunt and uncles bedroom, and even though she knew that she should not go in there, she felt compelled to do so. After what she discovered, she felt no guilt for snooping.
Once in the bedroom, she took a quick look around and didn't really see much of significance. She walked over to the closet which was open slightly and although she knew she shouldn't, she felt compelled to open it all the way and look inside. One side of the closet held her uncles things and the other her aunts. She walked over to where her aunts things were. She browsed over clothes, and a few pairs of shoes and on the top shelf were some sweaters and sweat clothes. Towards the back of the shelf, under a pile of sweaters, she noticed a small wooden box. All of a sudden her heart started to race and she felt panicky; afraid that her aunt and uncle could come home at any moment. Her hands were shaking as she reached for the box. She quickly grabbed it and ran to her room and locked the door.
She sat on her bed staring at the box with what seemed like hours. With much hesitation, she finally opened the box slowly. Inside, the box was filled with photographs and a few letters. There were a few photos in color but most of them were in black and white. She looked at the first photo. There were two young girls in bathing suits at a beach. It was in black and white so she knew it was an old photo. Both girls had blonde hair. She set it down and took out the next photo. It was same two girls sitting on bicycles in front of an apartment building. She still could not recognize them.
The next five or six photos were of the same girls in various places and poses. She turned one of the photos over and it read, “Me and my sis”. Feeling confused and a little excited at the same time, she continued looking through the pictures in the box. She found dozens of photos with the two girls in them. The next photo she looked at was what looked like a graduation picture. One of the girls was in a cap and gown and the other was standing next to her smiling, with her arm around her. Maggie turned the picture over. This one read, “ Kathy's graduation, you did it sis!” She looked at the photo again. She noticed something familiar about one of the girls. She had a mole on her cheek. She looked back at all of the photos and looked for the mole. She found it in every picture. She couldn't believe that she hadn't noticed it before. Her aunt Carrie has the same exact mole. But sister? Maggie never heard of her aunt having a sister. And if she did, that meant that the other girl in the photo was her mother? She was tall with golden blonde hair and bore a striking resemblance to herself. Whenever Maggie had asked her aunt about her mother, she always went back to the same story that there had been an accident. And for some reason, she couldn't remember anything about her mother or anything about her childhood for that matter, and nothing else was ever explained to her. With trepidation and emotion coursing through her veins, she quickly rummaged through the rest of the photos in the box and then came across a colored, Polaroid snapshot of herself, a little girl who looked almost like a toddler, and who she thought was her mother.
She knew that she had come to live with her aunt and uncle when she was around five years old, but who was the little girl in the photo? At the bottom of the Polaroid, in words that could barely be seen, it read; “ Kathy, Maggie and baby Amanda.” She sat there, mesmerized when suddenly she heard two car doors slam shut. She got up from her bed and looked out the window and saw her aunt and uncle walking towards the house. She quickly took the photos and stuffed them in her purse and put the small wooden box in one of the boxes that she had already packed. She went into her bathroom, locked the door and ran the shower so that her aunt or uncle wouldn't disturb her. She needed some time to calm down before she could face them without the look of confusion plastered to her face.
She sat on the bathroom floor trying to think this whole thing threw. She could not, for the life of her, understand who baby “Amanda” was.
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