"Drop the smart-aleck attitude, little girl," he snapped. "I don't know what scheme you're using on my son, but it ends now. He's not your father, never was. Your so-called mother used you to trap him. She probably got knocked up by some other loser. I always suspected that Catalano girl was no good, and you're the living proof of that." This man, who was Andy's father and supposed to be my grandfather, spat out these words with fierce anger, his eyes blazing.
"Come on, give me a break, gramps," I said, aware I was provoking him but unable to stop. When I feel cornered, my words get the best of me. "Aren't you happy to have a long-lost granddaughter? I sure am thrilled to have a Gramps." I gave him a sweet smile, trying to mask my fear. Before I could react, he barged into the entryway and shoved me against the wall. His firm grip caused the pain to be intense, making me flinch; bruises were likely to form. I was terrified, but I refused to show it.
"You are no family to me," he growled, anger boiling over. "Where are the files?" he snapped, his breath hot on my face. There was no way I would admit to having them.
I shouted at him, "I don't understand what you're talking about. What paperwork? Let me go right now, because I'm pretty sure this is an assault." Struggling to free myself, trying to push him away.
"You got proof?" Sheriff Dawson asked disrespectfully. "No one would believe you."
Zeke and Andy must have heard the commotion and rushed over to us. They grabbed him by the arms and pulled him away from me. I could see the anger on all the men's faces. Andy's and Zeke's anger was aimed at the Sheriff, but his was directed solely at me. Their protective instincts, though born out of rage, reassured me in that moment.
Looking at Zeke, the sheriff spat, "Assaulting a police officer can get you put in jail, boy."
"So can assaulting a young woman," Zeke yelled angrily back. The sheriff approached him and got toe-to-toe, trying to assert his dominance. It didn't work on Zeke; he stood his ground.
"I told you both I'm not playing nice anymore. Just remember, I gave you plenty of chances to hand over the information," was his final warning. He started to leave; he must not have noticed Andy even after he pulled him off me. He jumped when he heard his voice.
"What the hell is your problem, old man?" Andy yelled, "Why are you picking on my daughter. Whether you like it or not, she's mine. I have DNA Proof." Andy grabbed him by the arm, turning him around, holding his arm tightly. Zeke rushed over to me, looking me over while the other two men argued.
"She's not your daughter, Andy, can't you see she's lying to you. She could have had those results faked. She's just like her mother, worthless," he says, yanking his arm free. The sheriff looked directly at me when he said the last part. Andy's face went from mad to seething. He raised his fist back and connected it to his father's jaw, knocking him to the ground. The sheriff was stunned as he looked up into the face of his son.
"You're going to hit me, your own father, over that girl?" He asked as he picked himself up off the floor, holding his jaw. A bruise was already forming on his cheek.
"Yes, because she's my daughter. Do not ever come here again or speak to my child like that. If anything happens to either one of them, I'm coming for you." Andy retorted, "Now get the hell out." Andy shoved his dad out the door, slamming and locking it. Taking a deep breath, he turned and walked over to where we were standing. He watched as Zeke looked over me, making sure nothing was injured on my body.
"Are you ok, baby?" Zeke asked. His concern grew as he saw the marks left on my shoulders. "We should report him." He was right—I know he is—but who would believe us? The Sheriff's department would take his word over ours.
"Who will we report him to exactly? He is the sheriff, remember." This whole situation frustrated me, and I didn't mean to sound so irritable.
"I know what you mean, sweetheart," Andy says as he approaches me. "Your grandfather has used and abused his position to intimidate people. He thinks he is untouchable."
"There's got to be someone. I can't stand around and do nothing." Zekes' frustration was showing through his words. Andy patted him on the back in reassurance; he understood his frustration all too well.
"Don't worry, I'll handle my old man," Andy said firmly. "I'm not going to let him bully you guys." Turning to me, he says, "I'm sorry, sweetheart. I didn't know he was this bad." It wasn't his fault. I can't understand why the sheriff is so hostile toward me, especially since he discovered I am his kin. You'd think that would soften him, but instead, it seems to deepen his hatred. Our relationship is unlikely ever to be built on love or understanding. That's fine with me — someone like him would only be toxic in my life.
Since it was late, Andy chose to stay with us overnight. He said he was too tired to drive home, but I also think he was worried about his father's return. His protective instinct as a father was both touching and new to me. We offered him our room, where we usually sleep, but he preferred to stay in Mom's old room because he wanted to be near her belongings. It was clear he missed my mom. As Zeke and I lay down for bed, I grabbed Mom's journal to read another entry, wanting to feel close to her.
Dear Diary,
Today has been an exciting day because I felt the baby move for the first time. The sensation was strange and unexpected, so I called my doctor in a panic. Initially, I worried something was wrong with our baby girl, but the doctor assured me it was normal. Andy will be so thrilled when I tell him; he often talks about all he wants to do with her as she grows—teaching her to ride a bike, going on outings, and camping. He will make a fantastic father, and she will love him. As her due date approaches, fear starts to creep in—will I be a good mom? That's my biggest worry. I was fortunate to have wonderful parents, and I hope to be half as good as they were. Andy will be here soon. I have to go.
Thanks for listening as always,
This journal holds the heartfelt words of a young, expectant mother—my mom—who had no idea that in a few days her life would be turned upside down. Her hopes and dreams are beautifully preserved within the written pages of her journal. I often think about my mom and how she was so young when she endured the tragedy of losing her entire family and taking on the task of raising a child alone. I will forever admire the strength and courage she summoned to keep moving forward, despite everything she faced. Lying the journal on my nightstand, I roll over and wrap my arms around Zeke, who is already asleep. His warmth lulls me to sleep quickly, taking me to dreamland.
This dream was unlike any other; instead of being inside a house, I found myself in a dense, oppressive forest. The wet, squishy earth beneath my feet felt almost alive, pulsating with a strange energy. Towering twisted trees of ominous shapes loomed overhead, their gnarled branches reaching out like dark claws. An unsettling silence enveloped everything — no birds, no animals, just an oppressive void. Heart pounding, I hugged myself tightly and relentlessly pushed forward, my eyes scanning for a way out of this nightmare.
The pounding of my footsteps is the only sound as I break through the tree line. Halting to a stop, I'm shocked to see the back of my house. A figure steps out of the house's shadows and runs towards me, and it makes me take a step back in fear. It was my grandmother, Thalia, who looked panicked.
"Roxanne, please help us. They are going to take us away. Please don't let them," she begged, grabbing hold of both my hands.
"Who grandma, who's moving you? From where?" I asked.
"The woods, we're in the woods. They're worried that you know too much. If they move us, you'll never find us." She cried.
"Grandma, I'm confused. Are you talking about your bodies? Are you buried in the woods behind my house?" I asked, dreading her answer.
"Yes, baby, we are. Wake up your father and Zeke. You have to hurry." Was the last thing she said to me before I jolted awake. My body trembled, and I was drenched in sweat as I tried to process the dream. Holy crap, my grandparents have been near me this whole time. Why did I never check the woods? Jumping up, I ran over to the window that overlooked the backyard and the woods. Lights caught my eye; it had to be flashlights. Are they really that dumb to draw attention to themselves? Turning to the bed, I whisper-yell for Zeke.
"Zeke, Baby, get up."
"Mm, Rocky, it's two in the morning. What's wrong?" he asked groggily.
"Someone is in the woods. I can see their lights. We need to go check it out," I stated and started to grab sweats and one of his hoodies.
"Go back to bed, we'll check it out in the morning." He rolled over and started to snore softly.
"Get up Zeke or I'm going without you," I say while shaking him back awake. That got his attention, causing him to sit straight up.
"Ok, I'm up. Give me a sec to throw on some clothes," he was still half asleep as he rummaged through his clothing.
"That's fine. I'm going to wake up Andy." I toss back at him while leaving the room. Knocking lightly on Andy's door, I called out to him, "Andy, wake up."
He answers the door already dressed. "Hey kid, you saw the lights in the tree line to huh?" He asked. His question stunned me.
"Y-y-yeah," I stuttered. "It feels like something shady is going on. I want to check it out." He nodded to me and followed me down the stairs. We avoided turning on the lights in the house; we didn't want to alert whoever was out there that we were on to them. Zeke came down and grabbed flashlights for us. He motioned for us not to turn them on. We all crept out the back door and quietly walked as fast as we could to the woods.
We could hear murmuring, but couldn't make out what they were saying. We were still too far away. We took our footsteps with precision and caution so as not to alert them to our presence. Once we reached a spot where we could see them, we noticed they were digging a decent-sized hole. Was this what Grandma was talking about? Then the realization hit me. They led us to my grandparents' resting place. They were digging up their bodies. Then we heard them speak.
"Hurry up, man. We need to get these bodies moved before morning," if anyone in that house catches us, we're dead." The more petite guy angrily said to the taller one.
"Ok, man, shut up and shovel." The taller one retorted. Stepping forward to get a better look, a twig beneath my foot broke. Both men's heads shot up and looked in my direction. "Whose there? Come out now!" the petite guy bellowed.
"No one's there, get back to work," the taller man growled.
"I swear someone is standing right there," he said, shining his light toward me. I tried to hide, but his flashlight caught me. To avoid revealing my face, I turned my flashlight on, creating a glare. The other man dropped his shovel and ran away. The man with the light held his ground until Andy and Zeke approached him. Then he dropped his flashlight and chased after his partner. As I ran to the hole in the ground, I gasped, unready for what I saw.