Read Online Awakening (Children of Angels) by Jessica Gibson - Free Book Online
Authors: Jessica Gibson
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thought Mia bitterly, as she made her way home from the park, and left the confused business man muttering away about ‘ bloody weird kids ’ . “ At least ” Mia thought, with a wry smile “ I don ’ t sit on park benches talking to myself. Not yet anyway. ”
As she walked home, she pondered over how to broach the subject. Would it be better to approach her parents one at a time, or confront them both at once? She slowed her pace and walked the long way home, to give her time to work up the courage and work out what she would say. But in the end, as she sat at the dinner table with the people she called her mother and father, she was still nervous and still had no idea what to say. She pushed the peas around her plate with her fork, staring at her plate without actually seeing it, lost in thought.
“ Sweetheart, are you okay? ” a voice broke into her thoughts and startled her back to the present. She looked up at her mother ’ s familiar face, which was now expectant and waiting for an answer.
“ I … what? ” Mia asked, not knowing what her mother had asked her, only that she had spoken to her.
“ Are you feeling alright? You haven ’ t eaten much tonight - and you have been very quiet since you got back from school. Is there something bothering you? ”“ Are you sick? ” asked her father, leaning forward and studying her face with his familiar squint.
“ No … I just … .I ’ m fine. I mean … .well … I have to ask you something ” she was looking down at the table as she spoke, and now she took a breath as she rose her eyes to meet her father ’ s, then looked to her mother ’ s curious and mildly concerned face.
“ Okay, what ’ s on your mind honey? ” asked her mother “ You know you can always talk to Dad and me about anything. ”
At that moment, Mia wanted to burst into tears. Yes, she could always speak to them about things. They were the kind of parents who listened, who took in everything you told them, who considered their replies carefully. Who didn’t just yell at her when she did something wrong, who explained why it was wrong. Who supported her, encouraged her, but never pushed her or bullied her. They were, in short, textbook perfect parents. And she was about to repay them for all their love, understanding, support and kindness by asking them a question that would break their hearts, she was sure of it.
“ Okay well … look … I … .I don ’ t want you to be mad about this... ” Mia said softly, biting her lip. Her mother opened her mouth to reply, but was silenced by her father raising his hand.
“ Wait a minute, Mary, let her speak. Just let her tell us what ’ s bothering her. What is it Mia honey? Let us help you. ”
“ I wanted to ask you about … about me … about where … who …” the words got lost somewhere between her brain and her mouth, and she sat there in silence, returning her gaze to the peas on her plate once again, as she started pushing them around the plate once more.
“… about where you came from ” her mother finished the sentence softly. It was not a question, it was a statement. She knew exactly what Mia was asking.
“ Yes ” whispered Mia, still not looking up to meet her parents ’ eyes. She was, in truth, terrified of what she might find there. Anger? Hurt? Disappointment? She did not think she could bear to see any of those things.
There were a few moments of silence, during which Mia imagined her parents exchanging glances. Finally, her father broke the silence as he reached across the table and squeezed her hand gently.
“ We ’ re not mad at you, Mia. You have every right to know who you are, where you come from. We knew you would ask some day. ”
Reluctantly, Mia looked up to meet her father’s eyes. He smiled at her, as she studied his face for any sign she had hurt his feelings. He seemed fine. She chanced a look across at her mother, who was looking at her carefully, with a steady gaze. She
As she walked home, she pondered over how to broach the subject. Would it be better to approach her parents one at a time, or confront them both at once? She slowed her pace and walked the long way home, to give her time to work up the courage and work out what she would say. But in the end, as she sat at the dinner table with the people she called her mother and father, she was still nervous and still had no idea what to say. She pushed the peas around her plate with her fork, staring at her plate without actually seeing it, lost in thought.
“ Sweetheart, are you okay? ” a voice broke into her thoughts and startled her back to the present. She looked up at her mother ’ s familiar face, which was now expectant and waiting for an answer.
“ I … what? ” Mia asked, not knowing what her mother had asked her, only that she had spoken to her.
“ Are you feeling alright? You haven ’ t eaten much tonight - and you have been very quiet since you got back from school. Is there something bothering you? ”“ Are you sick? ” asked her father, leaning forward and studying her face with his familiar squint.
“ No … I just … .I ’ m fine. I mean … .well … I have to ask you something ” she was looking down at the table as she spoke, and now she took a breath as she rose her eyes to meet her father ’ s, then looked to her mother ’ s curious and mildly concerned face.
“ Okay, what ’ s on your mind honey? ” asked her mother “ You know you can always talk to Dad and me about anything. ”
At that moment, Mia wanted to burst into tears. Yes, she could always speak to them about things. They were the kind of parents who listened, who took in everything you told them, who considered their replies carefully. Who didn’t just yell at her when she did something wrong, who explained why it was wrong. Who supported her, encouraged her, but never pushed her or bullied her. They were, in short, textbook perfect parents. And she was about to repay them for all their love, understanding, support and kindness by asking them a question that would break their hearts, she was sure of it.
“ Okay well … look … I … .I don ’ t want you to be mad about this... ” Mia said softly, biting her lip. Her mother opened her mouth to reply, but was silenced by her father raising his hand.
“ Wait a minute, Mary, let her speak. Just let her tell us what ’ s bothering her. What is it Mia honey? Let us help you. ”
“ I wanted to ask you about … about me … about where … who …” the words got lost somewhere between her brain and her mouth, and she sat there in silence, returning her gaze to the peas on her plate once again, as she started pushing them around the plate once more.
“… about where you came from ” her mother finished the sentence softly. It was not a question, it was a statement. She knew exactly what Mia was asking.
“ Yes ” whispered Mia, still not looking up to meet her parents ’ eyes. She was, in truth, terrified of what she might find there. Anger? Hurt? Disappointment? She did not think she could bear to see any of those things.
There were a few moments of silence, during which Mia imagined her parents exchanging glances. Finally, her father broke the silence as he reached across the table and squeezed her hand gently.
“ We ’ re not mad at you, Mia. You have every right to know who you are, where you come from. We knew you would ask some day. ”
Reluctantly, Mia looked up to meet her father’s eyes. He smiled at her, as she studied his face for any sign she had hurt his feelings. He seemed fine. She chanced a look across at her mother, who was looking at her carefully, with a steady gaze. She
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