TITLE: Bonnie

NOTES: This takes a bit of a twist on "'97 Bonnie & Clyde" & "Kim".

DEDICATION: Ryan! the one person to ALWAYS without fail send me love for ANYTHING that I tried to write- and the only one with enough pull to get me to write sequels or smut to anything! Love you, Honey! You have *no* idea what it's like to be a writer and have someone like you sending me love for EVERY part of EVERYthing!

MUCH LOVE: Vibe, Tammy, Liyah, jana, Sammie, Romi, cc4mm & alex

Bonnie

1
*~*~*~*~*~*

Cherry Valley, New York. 2011.

Population? 500.

They lived in this town- had all her life, or at least what she could remember.

They frequented the town's ice cream shop and drove an hour to the nearest Wal-Mart to shop. The mall was a two-hour drive.

Her father owned a small house on a dead-end street about a mile from the gas station, where he worked fixing cars and farm equipment.

She was an ordinary sixteen-year-old girl by anyone's standards. She had blonde, semi-curly hair, a decent complexion and pretty good grades. She listened to rock and rap, liked to party, occasionally smoked (unbeknownst to her father), enjoyed teasing the ten boys in her class of twenty-five, and did the dishes when she got home.

Like any normal girl, she woke at six am, showered, did her make up, dressed and went to school. She went to class, chatted with her friends and participated in several after school activities to pass the time of small-town boredom.

Like any normal girl, she'd go home, where her and her father would prepare dinner while discussing the day. In addition to being a mechanic, her father also tended bar at the town's only bar and grill. He was a hard-working man who, for as long as she could remember, had always worked like a dog to provide her with what she needed. She'd always admired his love and devotion to her.

Her mother, from what she'd been told, had taken off after another man when she was just a baby. Try as she did, Liah couldn't so much as recall her mother's face. Just as well, she supposed.

It was upon being assigned a "family tree" project in school that this story begins. And it will be upon truth that it ends…

-BONNIE-

2
*~*~*~*~*~*

"Morning, Daddy!" Leah said as she ran down the stairs, late as usual.

"Morning, Baby," her father, Bruce, said. "Happy it's Friday?"

"YESsss! Finally! It's like this week has taken *forever*!"

"Got homework this weekend? Larry asked me to work an extra shift- thought I'd take him up on it. That okay, Jadiee?" Liah smiled. Her father preferred to call her by her middle name: Jadiee.

"Yeah, Dad. That's fine." Liah said as she buttered her toast. "I was gonna go out anyway."

"Where?"

"Mark's dad said we could chill in the barn. He said they'd get us a pizza and we could dance and stuff. That okay?"

"Yeah, Hon. That's fine, 'slong as I know where you are."

"Oh! I forgot to tell you- I need baby pictures and my birth certificate and stuff," Liah said while grabbing the milk from the fridge. She missed her father's face pale and when she turned around, her father was out the door already. You see, her father didn't *have* those things. Well- he did, just not for her, Liah Jadiee.

"Shit!" She grabbed her bag and her toast and ran out to the truck. "Wait up!"

"Buckle up, don't wanna be late."

"Dad, I doubt they're gonna yell if I'm late when I make up a twenty-fifth of the class!"

"Still- *I* don't wanna be late to work."

"What? Fixing Al's tractor? Don't think he'll mind- he's got ten of 'em anyway."

"Watch it, Liah. So sarcastic… where do you get that from?"

"Don't know. Was Mom sarcastic?"

Again, Liah missed her father's expression. She was busy looking out the window at the passing cow pastures. True, she rarely, if ever, brought up her mother, but she just didn't understand what the questions did to her father, Bruce.

She noticed her father's silence and turned to look at him. "Dad?"

"Why don't you turn on the radio, Baby. There might be thunderstorm warnings- we should be prepared."

"For rain? I'm sure we can handle it. Anyway- where's my baby stuff?"

"Baby stuff?" Her father asked.

"Yeah- ya know, baby clothes, baby book, my teeth, first pair of shoes… you did keep all that, didn't you?"

"A lot got lost when we moved. No sense in-"

Funny, Liah thought, a *lot* got 'lost' when we moved… like Mom. No- Liah did *not* blame her father. He'd only explained it once- when she was ten, she'd asked about her mother. She could still remember every word her father had said.

'Your mommy… she loved you. But she was… she didn't love *me*. She fell in love with another man. You had a brother, a stepbrother, and Mommy decided to live with them. She left us, Baby. She decided they were more important than us. I couldn't let her hurt us anymore. So I- we left. To start again. And there's no sense in dwelling on the past.'

"In dwelling on the past- I know, Dad. But I gotta make this timeline thing and collage of baby stuff."

"Why?"

"Don't get angry, Dad." She knew her father had a bit of a temper when it came to certain things. *Her* mainly, which is why she neglected to tell him that her and Mark would be the *only* ones hanging out in the barn.

"Not angry. I just wanna know what business is it of theirs? You think I *like* thinking about what your mother did to us?!"

Liah decided to drop it. She knew he kept a few boxes in the attic. She could probably find enough up there to do the report and not bring it up again. Her mother was a hot topic, obviously. She often wondered if it had something to do with the other man. She didn't remember much- she'd been too young. Her father said she'd been a baby- but she could have sworn she remembered a darker-haired man- kind. But she had decided to never mention that to her father.

"Don't be late, Jade. We're here."

"Oh- huh?" She looked out the window to see the school. "Oh, right. 'Kay. When'll you be home?"

"Late. Why don't you come over to the station after school and we'll have dinner together at the diner."

"Maybe! Bye, Dad!"

Liah ran into the school.

"LIAH! YO!"

"Hey, Dawn!" Liah greeted her best friend of ten years.

"You're late."

"Not too. Did I tell you I'm going to Mark's tomorrow night?"

"What about your dad?" Dawn asked.

Liah opened her locker and started fixing her hair. "My dad? He's been handled. Thinks it's a group party. Whatever! He's working double shift anyway."

"Liah- you bad ass! Did you get started on your project?"

"Not yet. Asked Dad for my baby book and shit- but he freaked."

"He's weird like that, Liah. What if he's like in the witness protection program and that's why he doesn't have baby pictures around the house."

"No- it's 'cause of Mom, I guess. I don't know. I know there are a few boxes in the attic. I'll go through them and probably find enough to use."

"Cool."

3
*~*~*~*~*~*

Liah and Dawn took their seats in their first period class. Societal Debates.

"Okay, Class," Mrs. Jacobsen said, "Your final projects for abortion were just as impressive as the debates and discussions themselves. But today- we're going to do a small introduction to our next topic. The Lost Children of Society. Any ideas as to what this will entail? Liah Rameths?"

"Huh?" Liah said. Mrs. Jacobsen had it in for her. "Maybe… the kids that *weren't* aborted?"

"Excellent, Liah. Excellent idea. And that's part of it. However- this topic will include orphans, neglected and abused children, special needs and gifted kids, as well as those often ignored, the missing child."

"Missing? Ain't they all missing if they lost?" The class giggled at the remark from Justin, the class clown.

"Interesting philosophical question, Mr. Jones. Perhaps that is what we'll try to answer by the end of the unit. This is just one of the questions we'll explore. We're also going to be weighing the good and bad of these situations. Is an orphan better off than being an unwanted child in a broken home? This unit will end with a five page, double-spaced paper."

The class groaned. "A paper?"

"Yes. A paper. However, I think you'll like it. This unit comes in conjunction with your family history projects in English. You'll be exploring your past and history and that will become the basis of the paper. We'll also be having several discussions and role-plays throughout the unit. I think you'll enjoy it. As for the rest of today- we're going to start by viewing a short film on Missing Children."

Liah rolled her eyes as the film started. She glanced over at Mark and smiled. He smiled back and threw a paper onto the floor near her feet. She picked it up and straightened it out before reading it:

Good Morning, Liah! Missed you last night- you didn't call. That's okay though. My mom was on the phone with my sister. I hope we're still gonna get together Saturday night. Mom and Dad are still planning on going to Schenectady to visit my sister and the baby. So we'll have the place to ourselves. I thought we could rent a couple movies and… OH! You should see what Mom pulled out for me last night- so much baby stuff. I still gotta go through it and pick out what I want to use for my project. How's yours going? Did your dad give you shit about it? Anyway- I'll see you soon. Love Mark.

She looked over to him and mouthed the words "Love you too."

She pulled out a new piece of paper and looked up at the video.

<"The most common missing children in the United States today are those kidnapped by non-custodial parents. Of the missing children in the country today, more than 60% are believed to be with a parent. What happens in this case, is the parent who is not granted custody decides to take the child. They often change their names and move to a small town to live an raise their children. Unfortunately for these children, they will never know the real story behind their raising. Although these children are happy, it is only in ignorance of the situation in which they live.">

Whatever, Liah thought and turned her attention back to her letter to Mark.

Sooner than she knew, Mrs. Jacobsen had turned the lights back on and the bell was ringing.

"Liah!" She waited for Mark in the hallway and hugged him good morning, before placing a chaste kiss on his lips.

"Here, read it during second," she said, handing him the letter.

"So we still on for Saturday?"

"Oh yeah. Dad's working double shifts.

"Awesome! Later," he said before running off for second period.

"So missing kids, huh?"

"What, Dawnie?" Liah asked.

"Ya know- the video, missing kids. What kind of parent would *steal* their own *kid*?"

"Dunno. Lunatics or something, right? I mean- if you got partial custody anyway- let your kid be happy."

The day was uneventful as far as Liah was concerned, other than lunch, when Mark had reenacted part of the video from first period, in which he was a helpless kid, being lured away by his father. Everyone had been laughing.

After school, she walked the mile to the gas station. "Hey, Jack. Where's my dad?"

"In back, Honey. Just watch your step."

"'Kay," she said as she walked into the shop. "Dad?"

"Under here, Baby!" She walked over to the car he was under. "Gimme ten minutes!"

"Okay," she climbed up onto the tractor and planted herself in the seat.

"How was school, Jade?"

"Good. We're starting this whole unit on missing kids or lost kids or something in debate class. It sounds interesting, a little less crucial than the abortion unit."

"Missing kids?" Her father asked. Liah didn't see the look of terror on her father's face.

"Yeah- ya know, kids in welfare or orphanages. Stuff like that. We watched this video this morning on kidnapped kids though- did you know that 60% of missing child in America were kidnapped by a parent?"

"FUCK!" Her father yelled.

"You okay?" She asked, worried. He rolled out from underneath the tractor. "Daddy, you're bleeding."

"Just a cut," he said, moving quickly to the sink. He washed the small cut and she bandaged it for him. "Thanks, Baby. Piece of sharp metal. Shall we bug early and get some chow?"

"Yeah," she nodded her head.

"I'll finish this after." She followed her father out. "Jack- I'm takin' my lunch."

"Okay, Bruce. Nice to see you, Liah."

"You too!" She said as her and her father walked across the street to the diner. "So 60%! Can you believe that? Why would a parent kidnap their own *kid*?"

"I don't know," he said quickly. "What else happened in school? How'd you do on your math test?" And being a sixteen-year-old girl with a short attention span, Liah didn't notice her father's rush to change the subject and quickly forgot the video from first period.

4
*~*~*~*~*~*

After dinner, Liah put on her headphones and lip synced to Godsmack on the two-mile walk home.

Once home, she changed quickly and went up to the attic. It's as good a time as any to look through the boxes, she thought. They were scattered around the floor and she grabbed one and sat on the bench with it.

"Okay, box," she said, opening it up. She found old school papers, from elementary school. Her report cards going back to kindergarten. I need stuff from *before* Cherry Valley, she thought.

She grabbed the next box and found a few of her favorite childhood outfits. The dress she wore to her first grade play, the hat her father had bought her when they went to Boston for her thirteenth birthday, her favorite red shoes from second grade… "Useless!" She tossed the box aside and grabbed the next one. In it, she found her father's winter clothes. She tossed that one aside too and looked around the room.

"There's gotta be *something* up here from before… preschool stuff… doctor's bills… *something*." She looked around the room shining the flashlight around the room so she could see where the light from the small window only cast shadows.

She nearly missed the glint of something in the far corner of the room. "What the hell…" she stood and went to where the glint had come from. She picked the object up and shined the flashlight at it. It was a small key. "A key?" She looked it over but it bared no resemblance to anything she'd seen before. It was a skeleton key and fit nothing in the house. "Probably left over from the owners before," she dismissed it and placed it back in the corner.

There were five other boxes to go through. One contained old school notebooks and papers. Another contained letters she'd written to her father and Santa Claus and the Tooth Fairy. She giggled to herself as she read over the poorly spelled letters. She couldn't believe her father had kept them, but in her heart, she knew he *had*. He saved every little thing she did- from book reports and sculptures to collages and Valentine's Day cards, some of which she found in the third box. The fourth box held more mementos long forgotten- her favorite pair of rollerskates, the baseball glove she'd received as a tenth birthday present, a stuffed animal that she'd puked on… junk, she thought. I can't use this on my project- the assignment is to dig into the past and learn something about your life that you didn’t know.

Last box, the dustiest. Hopefully this would hold some sort of record. She at least wanted to see her birth certificate!

She blew the excess dust off the box and had to rip through layers of tape. When she finally opened it, she found a small dress and videocassette inside. She took the dress out and looked at it. It smelled like sand- salty. She closed her eyes and inhaled the scent of the dress and could almost hear splashing. She concentrated on the dress and the smells, trying to remember something. It was obviously important since her father had kept it. And she-

The door slammed. Liah jumped with terror at the sound. "LIAH!"

"Ohgod. DAWN! I'M UP HERE! IN THE ATTIC!" She screamed to her friend. She put the dress back in the box and examined the tape. Nothing was written on it- just a blank tape.

And it scared her. For some reason… she was petrified. The dress… the tape… something terrified her.

"Liah?!"

"FUCK! DON'T DO THAT TO ME!" She screamed at her friend.

"What's up? Liah, you're shaking. Are you okay?"

"It's nothing. I just- you scared me is all."

"What's that? Find anything?" Her friend took the tape from her fingers and Liah was *glad*. "What's this?"

"Dunno. It was in the box."

"Let's go watch," Dawn said, heading for downstairs.

"NO!" She tried grabbing the tape but Dawn jumped out the way quickly. "Dawn! Gimme it!"

"Why? Are you okay?"

"I just- ya know, it's the weekend. I don't wanna think about the project." Why are you doing this? She thought. What's the big deal? But *something* bothered her about that tape. It was like… something was telling her she did *not* want to see what was on that tape.

"Let's watch it quick- then we'll do something fun."

"DAWN! I don't wanna watch it right now! GIVE IT TO ME!"

"HEY!" Her friend screamed. "WHAT'S WRONG WITH YOU?! Aren't you the one who's always wondered about your mom? Fuck- you don't even know her *name*-"

"JESSICA! Her name was Jessica!"

"What was her last name?! HUH?! THINK ABOUT IT, LIAH! *This* tape could have her *on* it! Maybe it's your parents wedding or something- a birthday party… doncha wanna at least *see* her?! You've never even *seen* her!"

"Not *now* okay?! Not now, Dawnie," she plead with her friend. She was so scared she was trembling, near tears.

"Hey," Dawn said. "Calm down!" She rushed to Liah's side as Liah collapsed onto the floor. "Okay- we won't watch it now. I'm sorry- I just… I'm sorry. I'm sorry…"

5
*~*~*~*~*~*

The girls left the video in the box and went to the tavern to play pool. Liah's father gave them a pitcher of soda as he always did and Liah didn't notice his growing uneasiness as she was still shook from that tape. That nagging feeling in the pit of her stomach wouldn't leave her and all night she kept thinking about that tape sitting in her attic.

At eleven, when Dawn's mom came to get her, Liah opted to get a ride home with them instead of waiting around for two hours for her father. He'd protested, but she'd insisted that she was tired and wanted to shower and sleep.

And she did *try* to do just that when she got home. She showered and climbed into bed. She closed her eyes and waited for sleep that wouldn't come… not without *knowing*.

What the hell can be so bad? She thought. It's probably just nothing- watching too many scary movies with tapes… saw The Ring and now I'm freaked about watching videos.

She creeped upstairs, grabbed the video from box, and went down to the living room- where the only television I the house was. She put the tape in and reluctantly hit 'play'.

<"Baby! Whacha doin'?"> It was her father's voice, young. It was dark, she could tell that much and then the film lightened. Home video. HOME VIDEO?! That's what she had been so worried about? She smiled seeing herself in that dress from the box, no more than two. She was stumbling around on the beach, grabbing sand and shells. He'd been following her around with the camcorder.

<"Hai- whacha doin'? Do you see the water, Baby? That's da ocean- da big ocean."

"Dis?" The child pointed to the sand. "What dis?"

"That's sand, Hai.">

'Hay'?! Is that what he was saying? Could be 'Jade' though, she thought. Damn old camcorders and their crappy sound… plus the sound of the wind on the beach.

She watched as her younger self looked out at the water and pointed. <"Momma out dere?"

"Yeah, Baby. Momma swims sometimes. Not no more for us though, Baby. 'Member? I said Momma left."

"Bu bye?"

"Yeah- Bitch went bye bye.">

Liah cringed at the tone in her father's voice as he followed her stumbling two-year-old self around on the beach. It was probably right after her mother had left. He was bitter, she could hear it in his voice, bitter and in pain.

<"Come back?"

"No, Hai- she's not comin' back. Momma went bye bye."

"In da wader?"

"No, Baby. Long before that.">

Liah didn't really understand. Well- that's not exactly true. She knew her mother had left them before she had disappeared. That must have been what her father said. But why did she keep lookin' at the water? And why were they at the beach in the middle of the night?

She smiled when her father put the camera down on the beach and she was able to see him running and playing with her. He looked *so* young… she'd never seen him that young before. He had longer hair then too. It was brown. He bleached it now.

Liah relaxed happily on the couch as she watched over an hour of beach play between her and her father. Then it cut out and a second later, there was a woman on the tape. It looked like a birthday party- had her father accidentally taped over other home movies?

<"Marshall- what are you doing?" The woman said.

"What? I'm tapin' you blowin' the candles out.">

It was her father's voice! "Marshal?" Liah repeated out loud, confused.

<"Why? Who the fuck cares?"> The camera got close up to the woman and Liah realized that the woman beared a striking resemblance to herself. That meant the woman was "My mother?" She said softly. Her eyes welled up at the first sight of her mother *ever*.

<"Kim, would you just fuckin' blow them out already?">

Just then, she heard the front door open and her father walked in. "Liah?" He asked but she didn't hear him, and he knew why.

"You told me mom's name was Jessica," she said, angry and confused.

Her father rushed over to the VCR and pulled the tape out quickly. "Where did you get this?!" He demanded.

Liah just sat and looked at him, before repeating, "Why didn't you tell me her name was Kim?"

"Baby-"

"WHY DID YOU LIE?" She screamed, standing up. "WHY WON'T YOU EVER TELL ME ANYTHING ABOUT HER?" She yelled, sick of the years of not knowing about her own mother. "She's my MOTHER and you didn't even tell me her NAME!" She took off upstairs and slammed the door to her room before locking it.

"Jadiee- open the door!" She heard her father screaming but she was crying too loudly to care and soon fell asleep.

6
*~*~*~*~*~*

That night, she dreamed. She was back on that beach, playing in the sand. She heard her father voice, so far away… Hailie… Hailie… Baby… she tossed and turned, looked out at the water and started walking. She heard a woman's voice... Marshall, don't do this, Baby. I love you. We could take Hailie and leave- FUCK YOU!

She looked out and saw a pier, a dock.

Liah woke up shriek, terrified and shaking.

"BABY! Are you okay?" She heard her father yelling, banging on the door.

"Daddy!" She ran to the door and unlocked it quickly, falling into her father's arms as they fell onto the floor.

"You're shaking, Baby. It was just a dream, Honey. Just a dream… shhh… just a dream…" he held her as she calmed. These arms had *always* provided comfort to her. And it was the same that had lied to her.

She pulled away and wiped her eyes. "You okay, Jadiee?" He asked.

"Just a dream."

"Tell me?" She wanted to. She wanted to ask him about the lake. She'd wanted to ask him why he'd told her it was the ocean when it was a lake. She wanted to ask him if there had a pier there. But something screamed at her inside- telling her to keep quiet.

"Car crash," she said quickly. "Just so real, ya know?" She couldn't tell if he knew she was lying. He was usually a pretty good read of her, when it came to important shit. But she couldn't tell this time.

"Just a dream, though. Right, Baby?"

"Yeah," she said and stood up. "I better get to sleep. I got work to do in the morning."

She started for her room when she heard her father say, "Cocoa?"

She paused and smiled. It had been their longtime tradition to have cocoa at night when either of them couldn't sleep, or when he'd come home late from working. It was like clockwork. She would just wake up when she heard the truck pull into the driveway.

"What else was a lie?" She asked quietly.

"What, Baby?"

She turned and looked him in the eye. "Why would lie about that, Dad? Why not just tell me her name?" She was near tears and she saw the pain in his eyes.

"I just- didn't wanna hear her name again, Baby. I didn't wanna get caught off guard with questions about her."

"She's my * mother*, Dad. I'm sixteen. I wanna know about her. I *need* to know about her, Dad. Not because I wanna find her. Not because I don't love you. But because I need to know something about her. It's like… I *know* *you*. I know how we're alike and how we're not. I know that my nose looks like yours. I know that when I get mad, my eyes go cold like yours do. But I have this whole other half of me that I know nothing about. Do you know what that feels like?"

"Yes, Baby. I do. I *told* you I never knew my father. But… I don't *want* to know about a  man who couldn't be bothered with me."

"Yeah- well maybe this part of me that needs to know is from Mom. Maybe not. But I need to know. How did you meet? Did you get married? How old were you? What was she like? What did she do? Was she smart? Where would she be?"

"You don't need her," his words stung her and she understood (or at least she *thought* she did). He didn't want to lose her. She didn't know the *other* reason. But she would. Sooner than either one of them will wish.

"Daddy," Liah said softly, stepping toward him. She touched his arm and said, "I *love* you, Daddy. I *need* you- way more than I'll *ever* need *her*. I just have to know things about her. If you won't… or *can't* tell me, then just tell me her full name and I'll find out on my own."

A look of terrified panic filled his eyes. She'd never seen him frightened and he yanked her into his arms and hugged her as if she were dying. "Dad!" She protested.

"*NEVER* go looking for her, H-Liah. *Never*. You don't *need* her brand of love." He released her then and conceded. "Fine. Come down and have some cocoa. I'll answer your questions."

Finally! She thought. She followed him downstairs and he filled the kettle and sat across from her at the table. "Okay. Whadya wanna know?"

"Why'd she call you 'Marshal'?"

"Nickname. Ya know- some guys are called 'general' or something… I, uh… we met at a Halloween party. I was dressed as a marshal- ya know, police officer or whatever. Anyways- she just called me that."

"Whad she go as?"

"Huh?"

"To the party."

"A jailbird. That's why it was funny."

"Why'd you tape over the birthday party?"

"Because our trip was more important," he said, standing and going to the stove.

"Dad, why were we at the beach in the middle of the night?"

His back was to her and she couldn't see the worry in his eyes as he made the cocoa. "That was the night that we, uh… well- it was the night I decided I'd had enough. That morning, she'd called and said she wasn't gonna come anymore. That she wasn't comin' back to town. I couldn't stay in that town no more. So I packed us up, stopped at the lake once more and then just drove."

"Where?"

"Drove here."

"No- from where. We left from where?" He didn't answer. Instead, he got the milk from the fridge and the marshmallows and placed them on the table. "Dad?"

"Chicago," he stated. "We left from Chicago. Lived in Chicago."

"Why'd we stop *here*? In East Bumble?"

"The car broke down. Seemed as good a place as any. Stayed with Jack while I worked for the car parts to fix it. And I guess the place sorta stuck on me."

"Why'd you call it the ocean?"

"Huh?"

"In the video- you told me it was the ocean."

"You were two. You didn't know the difference between the ocean and a lake. Why's it matter?"

"But it was a lake?"

"Yeah. Why?"

She shrugged and sipped on her cocoa. "Did you marry Mom?"

"Yes. And we divorced a year and a half later."

She could tell her father *hated* answering any questions. But she *had* to know. "Were you happy? When was *I* born?"

"You were born a month before we got married. Things were good for a while- but I started noticing her coming home too late, leaving too early… taking strange phone calls. Found out she was runnin' around on me. She left. We divorced. Then she gets remarried the day after the divorce was finalized and tells me she's adopting his son as her own. They move in together and he don't let her see you. Won't let me bring you over- then takes her away. I couldn't raise you in that house- *our*house. We needed a new start. To be rid of the bitch once and for all."

"Gee, Dad. Tell me how you *really* feel."

"Well- that's the story. I'm tired and I'm working in the morning at ten. I'll be gone all day." He rinsed the mugs out and kissed her forehead. "Night, Baby."

"Why'd you keep the dress? Why did you keep the box from me?"

He kept walking upstairs while saying, "So I wouldn't have to answer questions about things I don't wanna talk about. Good*night*."

7
*~*~*~*~*~*

Liah was nervous the next morning. She was going to Mark's that night. She hoped it would finally happen.

She headed to Dawn's as soon as she was showered and changed. She was gonna do a bit of 'net research. She could go online and find her parent's wedding certificate or announcement at the Chicago Sun Times archive. That would be something to use for the project.

The dream- the vision of the dock- haunted her. She fought to put it out of her mind as she made the walk to her best-friend's house.

"MORNING!" Dawn screamed from the upstairs window of the house as Liah approached.

"HEY!"

Once inside, the girls grabbed cereal and headed to the computer room. "So I found out my mom's name is actually Kim. They were married a month after I was born in Chicago. So I wanna find their wedding announcement or something."

"Her name was *what*?"

"Kim. I- watched the video last night."

"From the attic?"

"Yeah. It was Daddy and I at the beach. Then at the end- there was this little clip of a birthday party for her."

"You *saw* her?"

"Yeah."

"And?" Her best friend knew how desperate she'd been for knowledge of her mother. All her life- she just felt like there was something missing inside her. As much as she loved her father, she always felt like she was missing information she needed- a piece of the puzzle.

"She's pretty. Or she *was*, fourteen years ago. Anyway- her name was Kim. He lied to me so I wouldn't ask questions about her."

"That doesn't make sense."

"The way *he* said it, it did."

"So where is it? I wanna see baby you."

"He took it. Came home and found me with it. We yelled and screamed and I finally got him to tell me some stuff."

"Like a wedding a month after you were born?"

"Yeah. So it would have been January 1996. In Chicago. Kim and Bruce Rameths."

"Okay. We'll see what we can find! Wouldn't that be cool if we could find all these pictures of them somewhere?"

"I doubt that. My dad ain't really technology inclined. I doubt they used digital cameras. Especially since they weren't invented yet."

"Yeah- back then was *so* ancient."

The girls spent hours searching but to no avail. There was *nothing*.

"It's like they don't exist," Dawn said.

"Dumbass- they probably delete records like that after five years. Not like they wanna have all this old shit takin' up space on their sites. Maybe we could old issues of the Chicago Sun in the library?"

"Li? We have all of twenty books in the library. I *doubt* they have old issues of the Chicago Sun lyin' around."

"Yeah- but maybe we can get some faxed or something? Let's just go. Mrs. Merlin is there until two. If we hurry, we might be able to get something before she leaves."

The walk to the small house that served as a library was spent talking about that evening and Liah's boyfriend of seven months.

"Hi, Mrs. Merlin! Nice fall day, huh?"

"Good afternoon, Girls! It *is* lovely. Isn't it? How's your father, Liah?"

"He's good. Workin' a lot this weekend."

"And your parents, Dawn?"

"Good. Thanks."

"What can I do for you ladies?"

"I wanna find my parents marriage license or wedding announcement."

"Okaay… not from *here* though, Honey. They didn't live here."

"No, I know," Liah said. "We tried doin' it online- but they don't have archives back to 96-"

"Oh. Okay. Where were they married?"

"Chicago. January of 1996. It'd be under Kim and Bruce Rameths."

"Okay. Well- I'll request it but we probably won't get it back for a couple days. Monday the earliest, but probably won't be until Wednesday or Thursday."

"We can't get it sooner?" Liah asked. "It's… kind of an emergency."

"I'll see what I can do."

"Thanks," Liah said and then added, "And if it's not too much trouble- can you *not* mention this to my dad? He's… he's worried that I wanna leave him to find her. I don't. I just wanna know about her."

"No problem, Honey. You girls be good. Okay?"

"Okay," the girls said as they left.

"So what now, Li?"

"I gotta go pick out an outfit for tonight."

"Wanna stop by the tavern and have some lunch first?"

"Sure. I'm starved!" Liah said and the girls crossed the street. She went to the bar and greeted her father with a hug. "Hi, Dad! Feed us?"

"Sure, Baby. Hi Dawn."

"Hi, Mr. Rameths."

"Whadya want, Kids?" He asked as they hopped up on the stools to sit at the bar.

8
*~*~*~*~*~*

"I don't know, Li. He just doesn't seem like the type to lie about something so big."

"I *know* you got a crush on my dad, Dawn. I've known for a while."

"WHAT?!" Her best friend gasped.

"Oh, don't deny it! You think he's cute."

"He's a hottie alright. Fine. I admit it."

"I can't believe you just said that! He's my *dad*!"

"Whatever. You brought it up!" Dawn said as they entered Liah's house. "So- what are you gonna wear tonight? What time ya gotta be there?"

"Mark said about seven," Liah replied. "We should go upstairs and raid my closet."

"Okay. It's gotta be something to make him squirm!"

"Obviously! I mean- this could be *it*. This could be the last night I'm a virgin!" Liah was so nervous and excited. She and Mark had fooled around a bit before but they'd pulled back. Well, she thought, not tonight. Tonight is *it*.

They girls ran up to Liah's room and spent two hours pouring over what was in her closet. "NOTHING is good enough for this, Dawn! What the fuck am I gonna do?"

"I thought you said your dad bought you that shirt the last trip to the mall."

"OH yeah!" Liah said, remembering the shirt. Her father had practically *cried* when he paid for it. He'd said it was the most expensive shirt he'd ever seen, let alone *bought*. But she'd worked him *so* good- puppy dog eyes, puckered lip, a big hug and whined 'Daddy' and he's crumbled to putty in her hands.

"Where is it?"

"He's saving it for my birthday!"

"Are you serious?" Her friend asked. "That's two months away!"

"I *know*," Liah sighed, sitting on her bed. "But… he said anything that costs that much will have to be worth the wait."

"I hate your dad," Dawn sighed.

"Me too," Liah sighed again. But then she got an idea. "Unless… no."

"Unless?!" Dawn piped up.

"Well… he ain't gonna be home until late. And he's working all tomorrow too. What if… I were to *borrow* it from the box and put it back tomorrow while he's gone. He'll never know the difference."

"Liah- you're *devious*. Child of the devil you are, Girl! He would *kill* you if he found out…" her friend said, following her into her father's room. "I mean- he'd *murder* you- oh my god. They'd find you in the lake for sure."

Liah froze as alarms rung in her head, but her friend didn't know any better and kept talking… "I mean- they'd find you at the bottom of the lake- because he *would* *kill* *you*. For *real*."

"NO!" Liah screamed, her voice full of panic. "Daddy wouldn't hurt me," she said, more to herself than to her friend.

"It's an expression," Dawn explained. "However, he'd ground her forever. Relax. Jesus, what's with you?"

"Nothing," Liah said softly, opening the closet door. "It's probably back here…" she started rummaging in the back of his closet. That's where *she* would hide things (like birthday presents).

The closet light had blown out and she couldn't see a thing so she let her hands slide along the floor, searching for a bag. "Shit- you'd think he'd just throw it in here and not bother *hiding* it. I fuckin' picked it *out*!"

"Your dad's funny, Li. What can I say?"

"Wait! I think I found it!" She felt a plastic bag at her fingertips and tried pulling it out. "Fuck- it's stuck on something." She tried tugging on it. "The handles are stuck on something. Hang on." She slid her hands up the bag to the handles and… "What the-" she unhooked them and felt what they'd been stuck on. It was… a handle? A doorknob? She felt around it and-

"Did you get it?!" Dawn half-yelled at her. "Did you find it?"

"Yeah!" Liah said and quickly pulled the bag out. "Yeah- got it!"

"EEEE!" Her friend squealed and grabbed the bag and ran out of the room. "COME ON! MAKE-UP TIME!"

Liah paused a second. Had it been a door? Was there a door? A hidden room? She couldn't rule it out. She'd read somewhere that people would often build such things in their homes, in case of theft. The country was a dangerous place to live alone. It could have been a safety room.

"LIAH! COME ON!"

I'll check it out later, she thought before running to her room. "Okay, okay. Make-up time."

9
*~*~*~*~*~*

Another hour was spent on applying careful layers of make-up to make it look subtle but elegant.

"Well?" Liah asked, spinning around. "How do I look?"

"*Awesome*," Dawn said. "I'm so jealous! Mark'll flip!"

"I *hope* so," Liah said, glancing in the mirror. The phone began to ring. "It's probably my dad," she said before answering the phone. But it wasn't her father. It was "Mrs. Merlin? Hi!"

"Hi, Dear. I heard back from the Chicago library. They said they'd checked all their records. I'm sorry, Hon, but there's no Kim or Bruce Rameths. No record of them ever getting married in Chicago."

"What?" Liah asked. "How is that possible? They must have missed something-"

"Their computers have no record of anyone named Bruce Rameths ever getting a marriage license. I'm sorry, Honey. Perhaps it wasn't Chicago."

"Well- thanks anyway, Mrs. Merlin."

"No problem. Have a nice day, Dear."

"Thanks," Liah said as she hung the phone up. How is that possible? She thought. Did he lie again?

"Whad she say, Li?"

"Oh- no records of any Bruce Rameths getting married in Chicago-"

"Hon, I-"

"Ya know, thanks for the help today, Dawn. But I think I'm all ready and I'll be leaving soon. You can go."

"Liah-"

"I just… wanna be alone for a bit. Please?"

"Okay. Call me tomorrow!" Dawn said, giving her best friend a  big hug. "Don't worry too much about your dad. Have *fun* tonight with Mark. You look *killer*."

"Thanks," Liah said. A few minutes later, she heard the door downstairs open and close and Dawn would be on her way home. She couldn't understand how there could be *no* record of her parent's marriage. Perhaps the file was lost? But it really seemed to her that the more she found out- the more and more she thought something was wrong.

She went into her father's room and began searching- for what, she did not know. She went through each of his drawers and found nothing but clothes. "Fuck," she said as she slammed the last dresser drawer closed. She sat at his bed and proceeded to rummage through his nightstand as well. Nothing but his glasses, a few books, a notebook… nothing.

She glanced at the closet. He had a filing cabinet in there as well. She ran down to the kitchen to get a new light for the closet. She changed it quickly and then opened the top drawer of the cabinet. She found nothing but the title to the house, the deed for the truck, insurance payment records, doctor's bills, credit card statements… she glanced at his social security card. Bruce Sam Rameths. She'd always thought their last name was peculiar.

She opened the bottom drawer and found more of the same. Old bills and receipts from the year, paycheck stubs, last year's tax information… but *way* in the back of the drawer she was an envelope with no label. She would have missed it, had she been looking for something in particular, but since she was looking for anything, she saw it. She pulled it out and opened it up.

There was a small piece of paper inside. Dave. 313-543-6798.

A phone number? And where was the 313 area code? She sat on her father's bed and dialed the phone number.

"Yo," the voice answered.

"Dave?"

"Who's speaking?"

"Are you Dave?" She asked.

"Depends on who's speaking."

"My name is Liah. Liah Rameths. I think you know my dad, Bruce." There was silence at the other end. "Hello?"

"I, uh… think you have the wrong number little girl."

"NO! Don't hang up!" She begged. "I think I have *exactly* the right number."

"Look, Kid, I don't know no Bruce Rameths. Okay? You got the wrong number."

"Please- I just… I just wanna know how you know my father. Are you like his friend or something? Brother? Are you my uncle?"

"I'm Santa Claus. Okay, Kid? Now don't call her no mo'." Then, he hung up.

She dialed the number again. "Yo."

"Don't hang up on me again. I'm just gonna keep calling until you tell me what I wanna know."

She heard the click and dialed the number again. It just kept ringing.

Another piece of the puzzle that didn't add up.

Liah wrote the number down on another piece of paper and stuck it in her pocket, before replacing the envelope into the cabinet and closing it.

"The door!" She said as she suddenly remembered the door in the back of the closet. She wondered if her father knew about it. She started moving his clothes aside when she heard her father's truck. "FUCK!" She quickly put the clothes back in their place and then remembered the shirt she was wearing. "FUCK ME!"

10
*~*~*~*~*~*

She ran into her room and tore the shirt off before throwing it in the bag and sliding the bag under her bed. She grabbed another shirt and threw it on just as she heard the door open.

"Baby?! You home?"

"Yeah, Dad. I'm up here." She went to the top of the stairs and looked at him. "Thought you were workin' late tonight."

"I am. I'm on break right now. Just came to change and eat quick. Thought you'd join me. I brought barbeque chicken."

"Cool. I'm starved." She entered the kitchen, where he was setting some dishes out. "Dad?"

"Yeah, Jade?"

"Where's the tape?"

"What tape, Hon?"

"The tape with Mom on it."

Her father froze for a second. "Why?"

"Because I want it," she stated, pouring some milk into their glasses. "Because it's you and me… our first road trip."

"The tape is gone," he said.

"What?" She said in shock. "What do you mean, gone?"

"I mean- it's gone. I got rid of it."

She was more than furious. She was so upset she didn't know whether to scream or cry. So did both. "HOW COULD YOU?!" She screamed, throwing a glass across the milk. Milk splattered everywhere. "I DON'T CARE IF YOU FUCKING HATE HER- SHE'S MY FUCKING MOTHER AND I HAVE A RIGHT TO KNOW WHO SHE IS!"

She stormed upstairs, ignoring her father's screams about her language or attitude. She grabbed the bag from under her bed, changed her shirt, grabbed her coat and stormed back downstairs.

"Don't even *think* about leaving, young lady!" Her father threatened.

"I don't *HAVE* to *THINK* about it- I've already decided!" She screamed.

He came out of the kitchen and saw her. "Where did you get that?" He demanded, pointing to the shirt. "I had that I my closet."

"I have a date. I wanna look nice."

"TAKE THAT OFF!" He yelled. "You had NO right to take it. It's going back to the store. Give it to me or else-"

"WHAT ARE YOU GONNA DO, DAD?! *KILL* ME?!" She shrieked.

He froze.

"I have a date and I'm *wearing* this shirt. You destroy things that are important to me and lie to me, I'm *WEARING* this shirt tonight! Mark'll love it!" She spit angrily.

"Mark?" He whispered as she stormed out of the house. "OH HELL NO!" He roared and followed her out of the house. "I thought it was a PARTY!" He said, chasing her down the driveway.

"NO!" She turned and screamed at him. "IT'S A DATE! We have a DATE!"

"No way, you're leaving this house!" He yelled.

"WELL- TOO LATE! I'VE ALREADY *LEFT* THE HOUSE!" She yelled.

"NO!" He grabbed her arm and pulled her backwards.

"LEMME GO!" She yelled. "You have NO right to touch me!" She said.

"I'm your father. I have *every* right to ground your ass!"

She froze for a second. He'd *never* sworn at her like that.

"That's right, Hai- you crossed the line tonight. Yelling and being mad is *one* thing- disrespect me and we've got a problem. A *big* one. Stealing from my closet- swearing at me…"

"My name is *Liah*," she said.

"What?" Her father asked.

"My name is *Liah*, Dad. Not 'Hai'."

His face went pale and his grip on her loosened. She yanked her arm away. "Maybe you'd rather have your *other* daughter," she said quietly and started walking away. She couldn't get away quick enough.

"That's what I used to call you," she heard her father say. She turned around and looked at him. "Come inside, Baby. Come inside and I'll tell you the truth."

"*Promise*?" She said with tears in her eyes. She couldn't take any more lies from the only parent she ever knew.

"Yeah. I promise."

She followed him inside the house. He called work and said that he wouldn't be back for a few hours and she made the cocoa.

11
*~*~*~*~*~*

He sat at the table and looked at her for a second. "We couldn't agree on a name," he said. "When you were born, we could *not* agree on a name for you. I wanted to name you Hailie. She hated the name. Ya know- it was one of those 'she'd known a mean Hailie' things… so we took the name 'Hailie' and tried making new names out of it. One we came up with was 'Liah'. And if you take the last three letters, it's 'Hai' which is short for 'Hailie'. So that's what I called you. She called you 'Li' and I called you 'Hai'. We couldn't fix it any other way. And you seemed to like it."

She took a sip of cocoa and he added, "You're the *only* daughter I'd ever want, Baby. The only thing that matters to me is *you*."

"I know," she said softly, because she *did*. "So why'd you have to chuck the tape, Dad?" She couldn't help but sob.

"Baby… I'm sorry. But- there's something you don't know- that I haven't told you."

Yeah, like you were never married to Mom? Or that you didn't *exist* in Chicago? She thought.

"Seeing that tape… Baby- it *hurt* me. Your mother didn't just run away."

"What do you mean?" She asked.

"She's… your mother- Kim… she'd dead."

"What?" She said, tears flowing out of her eyes, drenching the new shirt. "What? When?"

"Baby- I didn't wanna tell you. I thought maybe it'd be easier for you if you just thought she was gone. But- you insist on knowing- I know you. You're me. You won't rest without answers."

"How? When?"

"A few months after she left, the police came knocking on the door. They asked if I'd seen her or heard from her. They wanted to know the last time I'd seen her- seems she'd gone missing. They said that her blood had been found in her car, blood in the house- suspected foul play. Her new husband was *gone*- nowhere to be found."

"He *killed* her?"

"They don't know- never found out. Never found him… or her. *That's* when I decided to leave. I *loved* her and she'd left and then… it hurts too much to think about it." She saw her father, crying, for the first time ever.

"Why didn't you just *tell* me, Dad?"

"You were too young. It just… was easier to just *not* talk about it, not bring it up… easier to forget."

"Daddy- I *want* that tape. She's my *mom*- no matter what you thought of her… she's gone… and that tape is the only thing I have of her. I don't even *remember* her, Dad. I just need that piece of her. *Please* understand that, Daddy."

He nodded his head and said, "I just hid it. It's… in the house. I won't get rid of it."

"Okay," she nodded. That would have to be good enough. "Do you… do you have anything else? Of hers? Pictures? Or your marriage certificate? I just… I wanna get to know her a bit. She *was* my mother."

"No. I don't have nuthin' like that."

"Well- I bet we could find someone over the internet- like old records… I bet they could get the marriage license faxed- what was her maiden name?"

"What the hell do you *need* that for?"

"To search for information on her… birth certificate or whatever. Maybe I could find-"

"No!" He snapped. "Just let this *go* now. *Please*, Baby. If you *love* me- please let this rest. Let her stay dead."

Right then and there, Liah decided it was useless. Pressing her father for any information would be useless. She'd have to find out on her own. He *had* to have *something* *somewhere*. That *Dave* knew *way* more than he was letting on. She just had to get creative. And the project *was* an investigation project, after all.

"Fine," she said coldly. "She's *dead*." She stood up and slammed the mug down onto the counter before heading for the door. "She's fucking *dead*," she mumbled.

"HEY!" Her father said sternly. "I *meant* it, Liah. You're grounded. I expect that when I go upstairs to change in five minutes, that that shirt will be back in the bag and on my bed."

"Whatever," she muttered, stomping up the stairs. She threw the shirt in the bag and threw the bag onto her father's bed before returning to her room and slamming the door.

She sat in anger and tears for ten minutes before he knocked on the door. "Can I come in, Liah?" He asked. She didn't answer. She refused. She couldn't talk to him. "Can I come in?" He asked again, more insistent. She was silent. "Fine. I'm coming in then-" she ran to the door and locked it. "Fine, Liah. You can sit here all night and have your little temper tantrum for all I care. But that shirt was to be a birthday present- you don't go and take it from my closet without my permission. I wouldn't go through *your* things- I expect the same consideration, Young Lady."

She sat back down on her bed and took the piece of paper out of her dresser.

Dave. 313-543-6798.

"Liah- I've gotta go back to work. Can I trust you to stay here tonight? Maybe… if you do that- then I'll reconsider keeping you grounded for the next two weeks. Can we agree to that?"

She pulled on a sweatshirt and sat at her desk.

"LIAH! Answer me, dammit!" He shouted from the other side of the door.

She walked over to the door, opened and looked at him. "Maybe *you* should stay home tonight and see if you can come with a reason why *I* should trust *you* in two weeks… or in a month or a year."

She then slammed the door… or tried, but he caught it.

"That's fine. You wanna bitch at me- that's fine. Just stay *here* tonight. No going to Mark's. I'll call his parents later to make sure you're not there." He turned and she heard him walking down the stairs muttering, "Just like her fuckin' mother" under his breath.

"AND HOW WOULD I FUCKING KNOW THAT IF YOU WON'T FUCKING TELL ME ANYTHING ABOUT HER?!" She screamed after him.

She flinched when she heard the front door slam. The truck tore out of the driveway and she shrieked. She was *sick* of it. She *would* know the truth. The *whole* truth.

She glanced at the number on the piece of paper and picked up the phone. She had an idea.

"Yo."

"Hello- Good evening, Sir. My name is Melissa and I've been hired by a local company to conduct an in-home survey. Would you mind if I asked you a few questions?"

"What?" The man growled.

"Well- the company is investigating local income brackets and whatnot because they are considering adding on to their company but want to make sure they'd have community support and interest with any new services they'd create."

"What?" He growled again.

"Well- what is your annual income?"

"Hundred thousand or more."

She nearly choked. Her father knew someone rich? "And what is it you do for a living, Sir."

"I'm in sales," he said with a chuckle. "Printing and sales."

"Thank you, Sir. Have a pleasant evening." She hung up quickly. Printing and sales? She thought. What the hell kind of answer was that?

She redialed the number.

"WHAT?" The man growled.

"Santa Claus?" She asked, in her most grown-up voice.

"Who's asking?"

"I'm interesting in making a purchase," she said.

"Where did you get this number?"

"A friend referred you to me."

"What's yer name?"

"Jane."

"What do you need?"

When she thought about this later, she couldn't figure out why she said what she did. But before she knew it was coming out of her mouth, she'd said, "To get out of town *quick*."

"So you'll need passport? New ID? What?"

Ohgod. She gasped. "Um- yeah. New name. ID. Passport- birth certificate. I just- make me disappear."

"A hundred thousand. Cash. Sixty now. Forty on delivery. I'll need all your papers now."

"So that's what you do?" She asked.

"'Scuse me?"

"You make people disappear?"

"Who da fuck is dis?"

"You made me and my father disappear. Didn't you?"

She wasn't shocked when he hung up on her.

12
*~*~*~*~*~*

She dialed once more and just let it ring and ring and ring and ring. He'd eventually pick up. She hoped. The phone must have rung thirty times or more before "STOP THIS!" He screamed into the phone.

"Where are you?" She asked him.

"What?"

"Look- I have your phone number. I can call an operator and ask where the 313 area code is, or you can just tell me and save me the time."

"Detroit."

"Detroit?!" Not Chicago, she thought. "You know who I am?" She asked.

"I remember," he answered.

"Who?" She asked.

"Liah Jadiee Rameths."

"Liar," she mumbled.

"Far as anyone will ever know- you're Liah Jadiee Rameths, little girl."

"I'm sixteen. Not little no more. Look- I just- did you know my mother?"

She screamed when he hung up. She dialed the number again and it rang and rang and rang. She started counting. Twenty-two, twenty-three, twenty-four… but counting got old quickly… fifty-two, fifty-three, fifty-four… at least she had another city to start. Detroit. Seventy-seven, seventy-eight, seventy-nine…

"LET IT GO, BITCH!" He growled when he picked up again.

"I just wanna know her name. Just tell me that and I won't call back. I swear."

"Let her stay dead, Liah."

"Well- I can't. If it was *your* mother… could you? I just- what was her maiden name? Please- just tell me that and I won't call back."

"Scott. But be sure you wanna go there, Honey. You won't like it."

"Thanks for the advice. But I already know too much."

Too much and not enough, she thought as she hung up.

"The closet-" she muttered as she left her room with a flashlight. Maybe he *did* know about it- maybe that's where he'd put the tape. Maybe there was more there.

She opened the door and pushed his clothes aside to reveal the door. She glanced at the knob and- "THE KEY!" She shouted. The key from the attic- the skeleton key- it would open the door.

She nearly ran up to the attic and retrieved the key before flying down the stairs to her father's room. The door opened with an eerie creek. She flashed the light in the room. It was a small room- thrice the size of the closet, if that. But there *were* boxes. And… she walked toward the back wall and moved the light to the picture that was hanging there- dusty- ten years of dust.

A picture of a woman and child. *The* woman and a child. Her mother and herself.

She blew some of the dust off and as she stared at her mother through the sea of dust she had a flash- a memory? A vision? The woman… SPLASH… in the water… sinking…

A scream tore from her throat and she exited the room quickly- slammed the closet door and locked it quickly. She ran to the room and threw herself on the bed, hiding the key in her pillowcase.

She didn't understand. *Couldn't* understand what she saw in her mind. She didn't really want to.

Sleep did not work. Every time she closed her eyes… she saw that woman. Her mother… in the water… swimming… sinking… she wasn't sure. But she was terrified and… *glad*- *happy*.

Tell Mommy you lub her-

She threw on some sneakers and dug her bike out from the garage and went as quickly as she could toward Mark's house. "MARK?!" She yelled as she burst through the door.

"Liah?" He asked. She followed his voice into the den. "You were supposed to be here four hours ago. Thought you'd stood me up, Baby," he said sexily before seeing the look on his girlfriend's face. "Baby, you okay?"

"No," she said in tears. "I need… your computer."

"Okay, Liah. Can I do anything for you?"

"Just… leave me alone," she said, walking by him into the den and closing the door behind her.

"Baby?" He asked through the door.

"*Please*, Mark. Just-" I need to do this by myself.

She got onto the internet and hopped onto a search engine and typed in the name "Kim Scott".

Nothing came up and she wasn't sure if she was happy about that or not. Detroit.

He'd said Detroit on the phone. She searched for Detroit newspapers and went to one of their search engines and typed in the same name.

She was horrified to see the number of articles that surfaced from the late nineties.

Family Vanished. Woman Still Missing. Mother Lost; Foul Play? Mother Disappeared; Husband Suspected. Warrants Issue for Husband of Missing Mom. Woman Missing; Daughter Gone.

Daughter? I'm right here, she thought. I'm with Dad.

She clicked on that link and began reading the article to herself.

Kim Scott Jones, mother of two, is still missing after one month of searching. Jones was reportedly last seen entering her home on the night of July 17, 1997 at approximately six in the evening. Jones' disappearance is suspected foul play as blood from the victim was found in the house and victim's car, as well as in a nearby wooded area. The body has not been recovered. Her husband, William F. Jones, is also among the missing and has not been found for questioning. He has not been seen since he was last spotted entering the couple's home at seven that evening with her daughter, age 2, and their son, age 18 months.

Jones survivors include her two children, one from a previous marriage. Her daughter, age two, Hailie Jade Mathers, is also among the missing. Police are investing the disappearance of both children. Foul play is to blame. Jones' ex-husband, Marshall Bruce Mathers III,  is also wanted for questioning in the disappearance of his ex-wife and their daughter.

She sat back and stared at the page for a long time before hitting 'print'.

"Mathers?" She pondered out loud.

13
*~*~*~*~*~*

Liah read the article over and over. Five times, ten times… it didn't matter.

Marshall Bruce Mathers III? Hailie Jade?

"Liah?" She jumped upon hearing a voice. She turned and saw her boyfriend. "Are you okay?"

"That's not my name," she said blankly. She was beyond feeling. Something wasn't right. He was wanted for questioning? She'd been saying his *name* on the tape- not a nickname. Not MarshaL. She'd been saying MarshaLL.

"What are you talking about?"

It was all starting to make sense. A strange kind of sense that she didn't understand yet. She didn't have all the pieces. She knew the truth but couldn't admit it- couldn't accept it. Wouldn't. Her father couldn't… wouldn't… he'd just wanted a new start. A new beginning…

She picked the phone up and dialed the bar. "Valley Tavern. How can I help you?"

"Is Marshall there?" She said in a deeper voice.

"You've got the wrong number," her father said nervously.

"Marshall Mathers?"

"Who IS this?" He snapped. "How did you get this number?"

"Marshall Bruce Mathers III?"

He hung up the phone quickly.

"Liah? What are you doing? What's going on? Who's Kim Scott Jones?"

"My mother," she answered. "I… I have to go…"

She stood up, stunned, still, trying to process… remember… ignore what she knew in her heart was true.

"Go? You just got here-"

"I have to go," she said, her face expressionless. "I have to go clean out the closet."

"The closet? What are you talking about?"

"His closet. My mother… the picture- I have to go." Liah walked past her coat to the door.

"Why don't I take you home, Liah? Okay? Lemme take you home."

"Home? What's home? Where you're safe? I have no home."

"Liah- I think you're… confused. Lemme take you home."

She allowed herself to be led to the car and he drove in silence.

She closed her eyes and leaned against the window.

Momma's messy, ain't she?

Just the two of us now, Baby. Gonna get the hell away from here.

Don't worry 'bout that little boo-boo on her throat. Just a little scratch, it don't hurt.

"NO!" She screamed as she opened her eyes.

"Shit- Liah. Are you okay? Freak me out why don't you?"

She looked around and saw her house in front of them. He'd parked in her driveway.

"Li, Babe… maybe you should lie down? For a while? Get some sleep?"

"Sleep? It's for people who *know* who they are. I don't."

"What are you talking about, Liah?"

"I'm Hailie. Hailie Jade Mathers."

"What?"

"I'm the little girl in the article. Daddy stole me."

Having just spoken the words… she was horrified. He had stolen her? Her own father?

"I have to look in the closet."

"Let me go with you," her boyfriend said, confused and not wanting to let her go.

"No. I'll be okay." She went inside, climbed the stairs and retrieved the key to the closet.

14
*~*~*~*~*~*

The small room had two boxes and the picture. She took all three with her and sat on the floor with them.

She opened the first box, after blowing the dust off of it, and stared at the contents.

Birth certificates, doctor's papers, social security papers… all lies. Liah Jaddie Rameths. God, she thought, he fuckin' used my fucking *name* and just rearranged the letters!

Rameths. Mathers. It didn't matter. It was all lies.

She dumped the boxes contents onto the floor. Nothing. Nothing about her mother.

She opened the second box and stared inside. Tears came to her eyes- pictures of her and her mother and a baby? There was- of course! "The little boy- my half-brother."

Her mom looked happy… so did *she*. She pulled the pictures out and saw a brown bag at the bottom of the box. She pulled it out and- it was heavy- metal… she opened it up and took the…

Don't play with Dada's toy knife, Honey, let go of it.

She stared at the knife with a horrifying realization.

She threw it and it hit the floor with a sickening thud.

There goes Mama, splashin' in da water. No more fightin' with Dad, no more restrainin' order.

Nobody in this world is ever gonna keep you from me. I love you.

Mama said she wants to show you how far she can float.

She looked down at her hands… hands that had hugged her father… touched him… held his hand at town dances…

But I still feel sad that I put her on time-out.

Her mind flashes to that dock… the dock by the water that she had seen…

Hands that thrown a ball and caught a ball… cooked dinner for him… she stood up, terrified, horrified…

There goes Mama splashin' in the water. No more fightin' with Dad.

Blow her kisses, bye bye, tell Mommy you lub her.

God- how could she have been so stupid? So blind? She'd forgotten… she'd not wanted to know… she backed out of the room slowly-

"LIAH!" She jumped at his voice. "Baby? We gonna go on a little trip!" She heard his steps coming up the stairs. "Baby- whacha… doin'…"

"MURDERER!" She shrieked, turning on him quickly. "YOU DID IT! YOU KILLED HER! YOU… GOD… YOU…"

She collapsed. From exhaustion, from fear, out of pain… out of sadness… she collapsed in tears onto the floor, crying at his feet and he fell with her, took her in his arms, tried to calm her.

"Baby… Liah-"

She couldn't hear him… didn't know… couldn't know what he was saying… she couldn't hear anything but her own sobs and all those things… things he said- times he said he'd love her, called her by her fake name… held her with the same hands that had… killed her mother… her throat…

It's just a little scratch, it don't hurt. Her was eatin' dinner while you were sweepin' and spilled ketchup on her shirt.

"Baby- Liah…"

"NO!" She screamed. "DON'T CALL ME THAT! DON'T TOUCH ME!"

She pushed him away, harder than she knew she could- shoved him away- his lying, murderous hands of comfort- she shoved him and screamed and froze, collapsed on the floor, watching in terror as he fell…

"Daddy!" She shrieked as she watched him fall… backwards… tumbling down the stairs his face full of terror and sadness and… love… for his daughter.

"Daddy!" She whispered and cringed he landed in a heap at the bottom of the stairs. She looked down and met his eyes… "Hailie…" he said softly, "I'm… Love you…"

And he was gone. She saw it… felt him go… and she could not move.

15
*~*~*~*~*~*

It was promised that this tale would end in truth. Horrific, perhaps. But yet, through the tears lies hope.

I am Hailie Jade Scott-Mathers, daughter of Kimberly Scott and Marshall Mathers III, was and always will be.

I'm fifteen years old and while my parents are both alive and well, they are sure to be shocked when they arrive on Back-To-School night and read my chosen tale.

I suppose I chose to write this story because I'm tired of defending my father.

No one can possibly understand what it's like to be me. No one gets what it's like to have to explain that your father is not a murdering, homophobic, women-hating, drug addict, rapist. No one knows my father. They hear his songs and think that they understand who he is, but they don't.

I suppose that I, like my father, like to take something serious and twist it. And I'm sure my mother is not going to be especially thrilled that I've heard these songs, but surely she didn't think I would go my life without being exposed to them.

I know my parents love each other. They always have and always will. We're a family, loving and close.

And I suppose the truth that I previously promised is that it's just music. They're just words, said in jest, meant to be funny or sarcastic, meant to anger people and express emotion. They're just words. Harmless words that are not necessarily true. Just words.

Yes. They can sting. They can bring you to tears. Make you laugh. Make you cry or shake with anger. They can be sick and twisted and lie. They can tell stories of what someone might do, of something that might happen. But writing a story does not make it true. Writing a rhyme does not make it true. Saying that you're going to kill someone does not make you a murderer.

At the end of the day, they're just words.

At the end of the day, this is just a story- from the mind of a fifteen-year-old high school freshman. And when I go home today, I'll be with my parents who love me and would never hurt me or each other.

And that's the truth.

Why can't anyone else see?

In the words of my father, "it ain't nuttin' but music."


-By Hailie Jade Scott-Mathers
Mrs. Smith's English 101
------------------
THE END

Author: crazyevildru@yahoo.com

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These stories are for entertainment purposes only.  They are completely fictitious, and the authors mean no harm to EMINEM, his family, friends, or anyone else that may have been depicted as a 'real life' character.  No money was made on the fiction here, either directly or indirectly, i.e. paid advertising. In other words - it's just a bunch of shit we wrote for fun. Please don't take it seriously.