Black as Night (Tales of Axalia)

I woke up on a Monday morning with a banging headache. The alarm clock read 6am. I yawned and rubbed my eyes immediately regretting the action. My eyes hurt from watching movies all day Sunday. I had complained to dad that I had a stomach ache from eating too much blueberry muffins at Cindy Parker's birthday party and he immediately decided that I stay at home and rest. Grandma did not like that. She is a devoted Christian and doesn't miss a Sunday service. She frowned at dad and said he was spoiling me too much. I don't blame dad for spoiling me.

My mother passed during childbirth leaving dad to take care of me. Thank God grandma was there to help or he would have had a breakdown and dropped me off at an orphanage or something. I stayed home that Sunday eating chicken soup that grandma says has "healing powers" and binged watched TV shows and horror flicks. Guess I should have taken a nap when dad came home to watch Sunday night football. But instead I hopped in bed and continued watching movies on my laptop until I dozed off.

Getting out of bed groggily, I stumbled my way to the bathroom and turned on the lights. Normally I hate turning off the bathroom lights in case I had to pee at night and didn't want to bump into things but dad insisted that every light in the house should be turned off during bedtime. He complained about having to pay extra light bills and buying new bulbs every month but I usually tune him out nodding my head and smiling thinking about sunny beaches and coconut drinks.

I made my way to the sink and rinsed my face. I looked up at the mirror staring at my reflection, looking at the eyebrows that grandma said are naturally shaped. While I gazed at my face, I remembered dad saying how much I reminded him of my mother. Sometimes I would sneak into the basement looking for pictures of my mother but not finding any. I would then look at pictures of me and my dad trying to see any resemblance between us but the only resemblance I had with my dad was my dark colored hair and eyes. Whenever I asked my dad about my mother and her family he would immediately change the topic.

I sighed and took my toothbrush applied toothpaste, brushed my teeth and left the bathroom. I went back into my room and made the bed and picked out clothes for the day. I slipped out of my pajamas and into my gym clothes and sneakers preparing to go jogging with dad.

My room is not your typical teen decorated room with pink everywhere. I hated the color pink, it made me queasy. I preferred the walls painted dark purple with a little dash of blue. I made that clear to the painters who painted my room - a gift from dad for my thirteenth birthday. Now I will be eighteen in June which is only a few weeks away and I still love my room the way it is with just a little touch of purple carpet and butterfly wallpaper in my closet.

I made my way down the hall to my dad's room two doors from mine to wake him up. I have always been the first to wake up in the house since I was three; going to dad's room and jumping on his bed until he gets up and prepare me for preschool.

I stood in front of his door and knocked. I put my ear against the door listening for any sign of movement. When I heard none I slowly pushed open the door and made my way inside.

The room was dark with a little lighting from the breaking day seeming through the window. I turned on the light and gazed around the room. The walls were beige coloured with a red carpet covering the floor. There was a desk with a computer system which also serves as Dad's reading and writing table. A small bookshelf lay at the corner beside the bed while a closet stood directly opposite the bed.

I made my way quietly to the bed and looked down at my father as he lay face up. His breathing was steady, his mouth slightly open and his long lashes lay on his cheek. Since it was Monday he would have to shave the stubble off his face. I could see the outline of his abs through the grey shirt he wore along with pajamas trouser. Dad made a weird sound in between a cough and snore making me giggle.

"Come on dad, it's time to wake up", I said gently shaking him.

He grumbled and stirred turning to face me still asleep. I sighed and shook him again.

"Wake up sleepyhead ", l said raising my voice a little.

He slowly opened his eyes and stared at me.

"You are the worst alarm clock ever ", he said grumbling.

I smiled and made my way to other side of the bed and sat on it. He sat up and stretched.

"You're lucky, most people don't have a living walking alarm clock ", I said as I stretched out on the bed with my feet on the floor.

Dad snorted and got up and stretched again. He went to the bathroom leaving the door open. I could see him from my position on the bed as he washed his face and brushed his teeth. When he came out to wear his gym clothes, I got up and made his bed busying myself to avoid looking at him changing.

I couldn't help but to take a little peek at him admiring his physique and slightly tanned skin that made women fall for him fast. Yes, Jefferson Black was a handsome thirty six year old man.

As far back as I could remember, dad has dated just three women but it didn't last long because they didn't want to commit to a single dad and take care of a child before having their own. After the first woman took off, I became weary of the rest not allowing myself to get close to them and wanting my father's attention all to myself. I made sure the women had the impression that I didn't like them until they eventually left.

I remember prank calling one of my Dad's girlfriend Linda telling her I was also his girlfriend after finding out that she was seeing someone while dating my dad. After she left dad asked me what I did to make her go away. I just shrugged and said I didn't like the way she smelled. Grandma supported me by saying she didn't like that Linda didn't know how to cook, all she knew was how to go to stupid diners and order take out, wasting our money. I laughed knowing that grandma never liked Linda from day one.

"Alright let's get going" dad's voice drew me out of my thoughts.

I turned around and followed him out the door.

We quietly made our way downstairs and out the front door so as not to wake grandma.

I felt the cold morning air hit my face and shivered a little.

"We have about 30 minutes to go around the block and to the park and back", Dad said glancing at his watch.

I plugged my headphones into my phone and put them in my ears. I put my phone in the pocket of my yoga pants.

"Alright I'm ready" I said as dad put on his headphones and started jogging ahead of me at a slow pace.

I closed the front door and followed him steadily listening to the sound of 'Carry on my Wayward Son' by Kansas blasting through the headphones into my ears filling me with confidence and weird sort of rage.

I increased my pace as we rounded a corner leading to another block. I was head to head with my dad. He turned his head to me and smiled. We reached the end of the block and made a left turn towards park.

As the outline of the park came closer I immediately thought of my mother. I don't know why my mind drifted to her but I didn't question it. The only thing I question was who she really was. I hardly knew anything about her because neither dad nor grandma would tell me anything about her.

I only knew her name was Adrienne and that she was from a little town called Living Bay up in Milwaukee.

Dad won't even talk about her parents, my maternal grandparents. Anytime I asked he would say they are bad people who abandoned their daughter and I shouldn't question him again. I could tell from the depths of sadness in his eyes that talking about my mother always brought him pain and terrible memories so I let it go and haven't brought up the issue again.

But still a part of me wanted to know, to make some sort of connection to the woman that birthed me. Who was she? Why did her parents abandon her? How did she meet my dad? What life did she live before dad? Those were the thoughts running through my head as we made our run back to the house.

When we got home it was 6.45am and grandma was already in the kitchen making breakfast. The smell of pancakes and oatmeal made me forget all about my headache and stomach ache and my tummy rumbled.

"Good morning Granny" I greeted her as I kissed her cheek.

She smiled, "Good morning love. Now go wash up and come down for breakfast" saying as she flipped a pancake.

Dad entered the kitchen, took a bottle of water from the refrigerator and drank the entire contents in seconds.

"Do I have to wash up too ma? " he said pouting.

Grandma turned and gave him a look.

"Ok am going" he said hands raised in surrender. I smiled and ran upstairs to my bedroom.

I quickly got out of my gym clothes and showered and put on the clothes I already picked. I didn't care much about my looks as long I have clean underwear and deodorant fresh armpits I'm good.

I stared at myself in the full length mirror next to my closet. I wore high waist black jeans and a purple crop top. I have always loved trousers of any kind, from jeans to palazzo to leggings. I feel comfortable in them rather than gowns or skirts.

I remember the first time I went to church with grandma I was five and she made me wear a pink skirt and a white blouse. I was jittery throughout the service. Half way through I couldn't stand it anymore so I jumped down from my sit, pulled the skirt and sat back down. Grandma almost had a heart attack. We were on the third pew so everyone saw it. There was no talking me back into that skirt so she had pick it up and cover my undies as she carried me outside. That was the last time I wore a skirt and the last time I stepped into any church.

As I made my way down to breakfast I wondered if my mom liked skirts or if she preferred trousers like me.

I got a plate from the dishwasher, scooped some pancakes and smeared maple syrup on it.

"Everything alright love?" Grandma asked as she poured me some juice.

I looked up from my plate and smiled, "yea I'm fine".

She narrowed her eyes at me and I quickly looked away. She always seemed to know when you are lying or something is bothering you. I finished up my pancakes and took the dish to the sink. I grabbed my school bag and jacket and placed a swift kiss on her cheek.

"Bye granny. Tell dad I've left". I raced out the front door.

As I made my twenty minutes trek to school, my thoughts drifted back to my mother. I could tell from granny's expression that she knew what I was thinking. If only she would just tell me the truth. What were they hiding? Did my mother do something terrible? Was she a criminal? What was wrong with them anyway? Did they think I can't handle the truth? I can! Right?

Ughhhh!! It's so frustrating that I didn't know anything about my mother and I have to come up with theories about a faceless person. I haven't even seen a picture of her. I just had to know who she was and what she looked like. Dad kept saying I looked like her but I'm not sure if that's true. I mean he wouldn't give details or elaborate and for all I know he could be lying. As the school building came into view, I took a deep breath and let it out slowly.

That's it! I have to know. I need to know more about my mother and I will find the truth. With my mind made up I made my way into the school building.