Elisa

Growing up I was always picked on. I was always told how weird I was because of the color of my eyes. I actually liked the color of my eyes. It didn’t bother me what other people said about my eyes. We were kids when that happened. Once I hit middle school was the first time I ever made a friend. I don’t remember that friend much anymore, it’s actually been years. Or maybe I do remember, and just pick to forget.

It was my last year of middle school when I had my first friend over. Elizabeth hadn’t been born yet, my mother had just found out she was pregnant. I remember the first time my friend had laid eyes on my stepfather. She had asked me who he was. I told her that he was my father. She gave me a strange look. He had been there all my life and raised me like his own, was it wrong to say he was my father?

That night as we were going to bed, she asked me if my father was really my father. I should have known at that moment I never should have introduced him as my father to her. I said yes. She said I looked nothing like him, there was no way I was his daughter. I got defensive.

From that day on she always badgered me about it. I always tried shrugging it off, but sometimes it bothered me how much she kept asking. I don’t fully remember why, but the two of us ended up getting into a fight that ended the friendship. People noticed that the two of us no longer hung out, and apparently started asking why.

I was never sure why she did what she did, but next thing I knew was that I was hearing rumors. About me. My father. My mother. Apparently she went around telling everyone that my mother was a whore, that my father wasn’t my real father and that I was a whore just like my mother.

Of course I was angry, but I felt powerless. I was endlessly bullied. For someone to treat me with kindness was rare. I had gotten transferred to a private school because of the bullying, but there I was ignored. I felt alone. I just wanted one person who I could be myself with, who would be kind to me.

Will I ever get that?

“Hey, wake up.” Jackson was slightly shaking my shoulders. I rubbed my eyes and looked around. We pulled into the driveway of a small one story home. Since our vehicle was in the shop, we were allowed to borrow another one for the day. The outer of the house was painted a beige color, with marble steps leading up to the door. The lawn looked like it had been recently mowed. Jackson looked at me with a questioning gaze.

“For a house that’s been empty for a year it sure looks well taken care of.” I rubbed my head. “Yeah, in my mother’s will she wanted the house to still be taken care of, so before she passed away it was set up for whoever to come out every month to check the house and then send whoever for whatever needs done. It was all paid in advance. At least 15 years in advance.” There was silence for a brief moment. “So… Did you come from money then?” I couldn’t help but laugh. “Me? From money? No way! My mother actually had a lot of investments in stock, that's where the majority of the money came from. Then the money from my stepfather's life insurance did the rest.”

“Sounds like your mom really wanted to make sure you and your sister were looked after.” I looked down at my hands. “Probably.” “So, ready to head in?” I nodded. “Yeah, I made sure to grab the key as well.” Part of me wanted to stay in the car. It was hard to see this house.

“It’s all or nothing.” I muttered under my breath, putting the key into the lock and opening the door. The house smelled like lemon scented cleaner. My mother always hated that scent. I laughed to myself. “Where do you want to look first?” Jackson asked, breaking me from my train of thought. “Hmm, maybe my mother’s room? I feel like life there’s anything here to find it more than likely will be in there.” Jackson nodded in agreement.

Her bedroom was the same as when I last saw it. Her hardwood floor still smelled the same as it did the day she had her carpet changed to wood.. I wanted to walk away, but I knew that I couldn’t. After a few steps into the bedroom the floor creaked. I frowned. I don’t recall the floor ever creaking. “What’s wrong Elisa?” I looked behind me and waved my hand. “Oh, the floor creaked, that’s all. I was just thinking about how the last time I was here it didn’t creak like that.” Jackson looked at where I stood and pointed. “Did you notice that the floorboard looks loose?” I glanced down, shocked to see he was right. “No, I didn’t notice.”

I got down on my knees, placing a hand on the floorboard. “You’re right. It’s loose.” I was able to slip my fingers underneath, and I pulled up. The floorboard came off with ease. Underneath there was a small whole, containing a small box inside. ‘What the hell?’ “I… I’m positive that this wasn’t here before!” My mind felt like it was spinning as I reached inside and pulled out the box. “When were you last here?” I glanced back up at Jackson. “Uhm, probably a month or so before my mother passed away.” I placed the box beside me.

“It might be possible that your mother did this, or had someone do it for her.” Jackson stated. I stared at him in shock. ‘There’s no way my mother would have something like this!’ “Well, open it, maybe what’s inside will give hints as to who put this here and why it’s here.” I opened it up, pulling out the contents.

I felt sick to my stomach. Most of them were pictures. In these pictures it was of my mother, a lot younger, more happier looking. Beside her stood a man, but his face was so faded out I couldn’t make him out. I turned the photo over. The picture had a written date of five years before I had been born.

The next picture I saw was of my mother again, the man with her but this time his face could be seen. The man was exactly how Elizabeth had described my stepfather’s friend. Skinny, like a skeleton, blond, and had striking gray eyes. In my mother’s arms she held a baby. I felt bile piling up in my throat. I flipped over the photo. “Elisa Edwards 8/24/20XX”

I dropped the photo and covered my mouth. ‘Elisa Edwards? My last name is Reynolds!’ Jackson squatted down beside me and placed a hand on my shoulder. “Elisa? What’s going on?” I pointed at the photo. He picked it up and stared for a long time at it. “So… Is this your mom and father?” He questioned. As much as I wanted to deny it, the baby in the picture was me. I looked too much like the man in that picture for him to not be my father. “Uh, yes. I’m guessing.” He frowned. “Why is your last name written as Edwards on here?” I shook my head. “I have no idea. My mother told me my father had been out of the picture since before my birth. I always thought I originally had my mother’s last name. This photo says that he was there when I was born. I was also always told my mother had no pictures of him, yet here are pictures of him.”

“I hate saying it, but you should bring the picture back with you. That way you can show it to your sister and see if this is the guy that she was speaking of.” I nodded. I tore the picture in half to get as best as I can of only the man. “What about the other stuff in the box?” Jackson questioned. I didn’t want to go through the rest, but I knew that I should.

I grabbed a piece of paper from the box and opened it up. It was a letter, addressed to my mother.

‘Marie,

Today is our daughter’s first birthday. It’s been seven months since you last let me see her. I have every right to see her. If I don’t get to see her soon, I will take action. So, please, let me see her. Don’t let our daughter have to live without her father.’

There was no signature. I handed it to Jackson, grabbing what appeared to be a second letter.

‘It’s been two years, I haven’t seen my daughter yet. I’ve tried getting in contact with you plenty of times. I’ve heard nothing. This is your final warning before I take action. This time, I’m serious.’

This letter actually had something stapled to it. I flipped it over and looked. It was the record of a court case. A custody battle. I skimmed the papers, noticing that the man's name had been marked out. My mother had been the one who had won custody. ‘Shit. Who is this guy?’ I bit my lip. There looked to be one last letter.

‘I finally saw my daughter for the first time. She’s grown up so big. I wanted to approach her, but I knew it would be weird. I know eventually she’ll come looking to find out who I am, and we’ll also see each other once again as well. Watch your back.’

There were two pictures down at the bottom of the box. I grabbed them and a chill went down my spine. The pictures were of me a few years ago out in public. I hadn’t even noticed someone had been taking pictures of me, even less following me. I felt sick. I wanted to scream. Jackson looked over my shoulder at the pictures and patted my back.

“Hey Elisa, it’s alright. I know it might not be much comfort right now but, I’ll protect you. Okay? So don’t look so distraught. Lean on me.” I felt tears welling up in my eyes. I wasn’t sure if I should hug or kiss him. I decided to do neither. I couldn’t let my emotions control me. “Thank you Jackson, seriously.” I walked over to my mother’s bedroom window, looking outside. Her window gave her full view of the backyard. It was peaceful.

I squinted my eyes. Something was out in the backyard. “Come with me to the back, I think something’s out there.” I quickly went out back, fear wrapping it’s hands around my throat over whatever I’m going to find.

Toothbrush. “What the hell?” I muttered. A single toothbrush was laying in the backyard. It’s handle looked brand new, but the bristles were stained by dirt. Except bits of bristle looked weird compared to others. I took a closer look.

Blood. Dried blood.

I took a step back, bumping into Jackson, who was holding the box from my mother’s room. “Whoa there, what’s up?” I pointed at the toothbrush. He handed me the box and squatted down to get a better look at it. “I’m pretty sure there's dried blood on it, Jackson.” I said, my voice barely above a whisper. He got up and walked past me. “Stay here, I’m going to grab some gloves and an evidence bag, and we’ll get it sent off to forensics to be tested.” I could only stand there, not being able to move or speak.

He returned with gloves on and a bag. He picked up the toothbrush and placed it in the bag then turned towards me. “Until we get results back in for this, I think we should stop the search of this house here. Of course, since the house does belong to you, you can still search it in your free time.” “I’m fine with stopping here. Let’s just get out of here, please?” Jackson smiled sympathetically at me.

“Today has been a tough day, so why don’t I buy you some dinner?” I blushed at the idea. Part of me couldn’t help but think of it like a date. “Yeah, I would love that. Thank you.”

Little did we know how unprepared we were for the secrets that were lying just beneath our feet.