Being back in my old room felt a little weird. I usually just stayed in my rented apartment because it was closer to work. Also when it came to a certain season in the area, it was probably just safer to stay on the west coast. But to see my original bedroom just the way I left it when I moved out was an odd situation for me. It’s like my mother craved to have things go back to normal. To the times before I became a well known actress.
With a heavy sigh, I sat down on the queen size bed. I half expected dust to fly up into the air the moment I landed on the firm mattress. But no big cloud filled up the room and it made me wonder if my mother cleaned the room while I was away in hopes that I would someday come back. I guess in a way I did.
The relationship with my mother didn’t used to be so cold. We used to be really close to the point that she was seen as my best friend. But one thing made us no longer see eye to eye. I had tried out acting as a way to come out of my little shell when I was a child. My mother didn’t want me to pursue it due to the fact that it might be too hard for me if I became successful.
At first she did support me. Probably because it was just small commercials or being an extra in movies. Nothing was too strenuous. Also the small stuff didn’t interfere with my school work. Which was nice because I needed a back up plan in case my acting career ended with me just doing the small stuff. But then one day I got the chance to audition for a supporting role in a movie and that was when the relationship between my mother and me took a turn.
The argument ended with me at least auditioning for the movie without any expectations for getting the part. In all honesty there was no trouble with auditioning. The only problem would be if I actually got the part. Which in the end, I did. My mother had told me to reject the offer and finish school first, but I felt like I would be letting people down if I listened to her. So I talked to my school to get online classes and moved to California to pursue my acting career. I don’t think my mother will ever forgive me for doing so.
But the longer I sat in my room, I began to think that her coldness was only because she thought that is what I wanted. I made a mental note to finally sit down with my mother and have a serious talk about my career. She may have not approved, but she still helped out and supported me all of this time. Even now with this whole mess with Jax Moon.
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A small knock on my bedroom door made me look up to see my mother in the doorway. A small book was cradled in her hands. Curiosity filled me as I stared at the book. It didn’t take me long to see the name Garden Grove Elementary reflected in the sunlight due to the foil like lettering they used for the title. My mother was holding the year book to the elementary school that Zaden somehow knew about.
She slowly approached me and then held out the book towards me. “I suddenly remembered where it was,” she explained.
Hesitantly I grabbed the book, “Thanks Mom.”
We both stayed still, completely unsure what to do. In all honesty, I didn’t expect her to willingly hand over the yearbook. I was pretty sure she would keep it from me for a lot longer than what it took. My eyes fell on it, trying to see if this was just some sick joke my mother was pulling. But it was real. The yearbook I remember getting as I left that school was now in my hands.
My mother then dismissed herself. Even when she left, I still hesitated to open the book. I wasn’t sure why but something kept me from looking. A voice even asked me what it was I was hoping to find. But I didn’t know the answer to it. Even if Zaden was in the book, I wouldn’t be able to place the man to the child in the book. He’s probably changed too much over the years.
But eventually I opened the book and looked at the little faces of the children that I went to school with. The school was small and was made for those that needed special care. All the faces went by age from youngest to oldest. A few pictures littered the sides of the pages from classroom activities but there weren’t many. By the time I got to my picture, I was almost done with the book.
I was one of the three children around my age group. The faces of a little girl and a little boy were on each side of my picture. We were the oldest at the school, but I remembered that there were four of us. One picture was missing. And it was the picture of the little boy who showed me the most kindness in that school.
“Why aren’t you in this book?” I asked no one in particular. Maybe it was to the missing boy. Even his name wasn’t on the list of students, which confused me more. Was he even a student there? Did I just make him up?
Confusion flooded my mind as I went through the book once again. It was as if I was desperate to find proof that the little boy existed, but there wasn’t any. But I knew that I didn’t make him up. He had to be real. Maybe that was how Zaden knew about the school. Maybe he was from the same foster home as the little boy who was so kind to me. It was the only explanation I could think of at the moment. But I knew I had to ask Zaden about it some time soon.