Crescendo

My vision was blurry as I opened my eyes, a stinging sensation ricocheting across my body parts.  The world was dark around me as I tried to adjust to the disconcerting surroundings around me, and I realized that I was in a cell of some sort.

I tried to wrap my head around how that was even possible, was I in jail?  Had a police officer arrested me and tased me for trespassing?  As far as I knew, that park that I had went to was public.

And then I thought back to what the man had been wearing.  He looked more like an assassin than a detective or police officer.  And then I remembered the large black SUV.  It looked almost like Sebastian's, the one that Jason always drove him around in, but this one was much darker, the tint on the windows allowing no one to see who was inside.

I heard the distinct sound of metal hitting metal so I scurried back even further up against the cold wall I was sitting down in front of and kept my eyes peeled, however peeled they could be in almost pitch black darkness.

"Holly...what a beautiful name for such a beautiful girl.  We'll get such good use out of you," I heard a man's voice scratch out into the cold, dank air of the room I was in.

"Who are you?  What do you want with me?" I called out, terrified of the answer.

"You already know that question...deep down in your heart, you know.  You've always known, daughter." he said and my eyes widened in surprise.

"So.  You're my real father.  What a coward you must be to be hiding in the dark, afraid to face your own daughter that you abandoned so long ago!" I shouted out at him, not even caring about the consequences at that moment in time.

I just wanted to see the face of the man who had given birth to me, who had abandoned me and left me with my mother and my dad who had raised me.

A blue tinted fluorescent light lit up above me and I squinted my eyes in pain, not used to the sudden brightness that was burning my corneas.

"Do I look like a coward to you, huh?" he asked me and my eyes bulged out of my head when I saw who I was looking at.

"No.  No its not possible.  There is no way, I-"

"Do you want proof?  Look into my eyes.  Look at my hair," he interrupted himself, taking off his police emblem encrusted hat on his head so I could see his hair, slightly tinged with red.

His eyes were the same as mine.  The same weird variation of colors that I always used to hate because it made me look so different, because no one in my family had the same eyes.

Now I knew why.

"Now I see why you were so opposed against my relationship with your son.  He was my half brother." I stated, the shock biting down into my core and I felt myself shutting down again.

But I couldn't do that, not yet.  I had to get away from that sick son of a bitch sperm donor before I could let all of my walls down and properly sob into my pillow for months on end, drown my sorrows away with salty tears that would probably never end.

He chuckled, his wiry hair tucked away again underneath his fancy uniform hat.  The wrinkles on his cheeks and crow's feet around his eyes making him look older and tired than he probably was.

I thought back on every interaction I'd ever had with him.  They had all been cold and distant, especially any time I showed any affection with Dylan, his son.  My half brother.

I felt the bile rise up in my throat before the pulsating of my heart almost drove me into a panic attack.  The pressure underneath my chin grew and finally it came up, everything I had eaten in the past day all spilled out in vomit on the floor below me.

I wiped the grimy contents off of my chin and looked back up at the man who claimed to be my birth father and shuddered in disgust at what my life had become.

"It disgusted me seeing you with Dylan.  I couldn't express that without giving up my secret," he spewed at me, his words like venom in my heart.

"Why would you keep it a secret, why would you let me continue to date him?!" I screamed out at him, furious for what was happening.

His eyes grew cold, sharp, aimed directly into my soul.

"Why do you think Dylan broke up with you in the first place?  I couldn't tell anyone because of my timeline.  And because of your little P.R. stunt, I had to move it up even further.  I was going to wait until you turned eighteen to tell you the truth, but now will have to do I suppose," he told me and I furrowed my eyebrows in confusion.

"So you had me tasered, kidnapped, and thrown into a jail cell all to tell me you're my real father?  You couldn't have done this over a cup of coffee?" I snarled out, my lip curling in anger at him and his actions.

He surged forward and slammed his hands against the metal rods keeping me locked in.

"No, I really couldn't have.  I have more daughters than you could count on both hands and feet, and I couldn't tell you where half of them are.  You probably went to school with at least a dozen of them.  This is how I get to know each and every one of them," he ground out, looking around pointedly at the jail cell.

"You're sick.  Certifiably insane. What are you even going to do to me? Your son is going on trial and he will be put away with my testimony, you can't just-"

"And you just said the exact reason why I'm doing what I'm doing.  With you gone, there will be no one to testify against him.  All our problems will be gone with one simple phone call," he said and I felt a shiver dance down my back in dread.

"What do you mean?" I asked, desperate to know the answer but terrified of it all the same.

A bitter, sickening smile slid across his slimy face and the fear settled in my bones, the hole in my chest replaced with a ticking time bomb that was two seconds away from detonation.

"I have a few friends in the Mexican Cartel.  They love young little pieces like you.  I've sold a few of my daughters to them before so they're particularly fond of my work," he bit out and I almost threw up again, if I had anything left to puke out.

"You're disgusting.  You're a monster!  How could you do that to your own flesh and blood?!"

"Because they weren't sons.  They were useless, you are useless, only good for one thing and that is the money I'm going to get from your purchase."

"Great.  So you're a psychopath and a misogynist."

He ground his teeth together and the sound made my skin prick in apprehension.  He leered dangerously close to my body in the cell and his eyes appeared dead, the stench of his breath filling up the air around me and I suddenly wished I hadn't thrown up all of my food, I needed to throw up yet again but there was nothing left.

"I do what I have to do to stay in power in this city.  That means money, and lots of it.  I do what I need to."

I felt numb then, and it was almost as bad as the pain.  I was scared that I would never be able to feel again.

He pulled out his phone and started speaking in Spanish and I slid down the concrete wall, my head resting on my knees.  It was really the end.  My birth father was going to sell me into slavery or prostitution or something equally as insidious.

It was over, I had lost.

And the twisted thing about it was that I was only thinking about Sebastian.  Thinking about how much I would miss him when I was gone, how much I missed him in that very moment.

How much I regretted not telling him how I truly felt, how I would always feel.  I loved him, I loved him with such a ferocity that I wondered how I could ever love anyone ever again.  I probably never would.

I did know one thing.

Picturing Sebastian in my mind's eye, I knew that I would forgive him for anything no matter what.  A love that I had for him didn't come around every once in a while.  If I ever got another chance to be with him, if by some miracle I could see him again, I would run into his arms and never let him go.

But it was the appearance of two hispanic looking men that made all of that hope of ever seeing him again melt away from my soul and I accepted the hell that I would be forced into for the rest of my short life.