Tethered (A BirthRight Novel #1)

by Brandi Leigh Hall

The memory of that day makes my head spin and I’m no longer in the mood for chatter. I need air. “Would you guys excuse me for a minute?” I jump to my feet.

  “Is everything okay, dear?” Gram places her silky-soft hand on my shoulder.

  “I’m okay. I think the trip down memory lane is getting to me a bit. I just need some fresh air to clear my head.”

  Dhelia snorts. “Well, I guess you shouldn’t have started it then.”

  My head droops as I try to think of something to say.

  “Are you sure you’re okay?” Gram’s eyes turn glassy. She knows how hard it is for me to be here—and to talk about magic.

  I hug her as I whisper, “I’ll be okay. I promise. But can I borrow the car for a bit?”

  “The keys are on the table beside the front door. Take all the time you need, dear.”

  I turn to walk outside, but the guilt kicking me in the gut only makes me feel worse. I get in the car and put the windows down, praying the chilly air clears the memories from my mind.

  But it doesn’t

  As I pull in to the cemetery a few minutes later, I realize an overwhelming sadness is riding shotgun with my remorse.

  I can’t believe I’ve never been back to her grave since the day she was buried. If my broken heart didn’t know any better, it could swear the funeral was going on right now around me.

  As I kneel on the damp grass before her marble headstone, my mind picks up where it left off at Gram’s.

  The images in my mind so clear.

  I’ve tried so hard to forget. Even harder to bury the haunting vision from that day.

  But it all comes rushing back like a tidal wave.

  My parents’ death.

  No. My mother’s senseless murder!

  She was killed because of my father’s hatred of magic. I doubt he meant for it to be a murder/suicide. He was too much of a coward for that. But it was the end result, nonetheless.

  It’s been six long years, and I can still see it, like it’s the very first time. As if losing my parents wasn’t bad enough, I’m forced to see the rerun—every day, for the rest of my life.

  And just like that, I’m thirteen again, reliving the worst day I can remember.

  I was in sixth period Algebra with my face in my palms, daydreaming about the adorable student teacher, Mr. Carr. He looked just like Clark Kent from Smallville. In my mind, he was Superman. As I fantasized about kissing him, the way I dreamt of doing every day, a vision jolted me from reality with images so clear—so vivid—it instantly made me weep.

  Tears covered my mother’s angelic face.

  Her creamy, Irish complexion was sallow as she stared out the passenger side window. The dark circles and look of defeat she wore, tore my heart in two.

  But why was she so upset? What exactly happened?

  My father’s scowl stretched across a face so taut, I'd swear he was made of stone. He’d never been a warm person, but in that moment, it was clear he had ice water running through his waspy, white-collar veins.

  He turned a malevolent gaze towards my mother. “Why can’t you ever leave well enough alone? Why do you insist on touching everything you see?” He huffed. “Is it really too much to ask for you to just be a normal wife?”

  Her wobbly head turned to him. The anguish on her face said his words carried the force of a lead weight. “Normal? Oh, please, my darling husband . . . what’s ‘normal’ in your tiny, deceptive mind? Is she?” My mother’s nostrils flared as she battled the floodgate within her tear ducts.

  Her sarcasm hit the wrong nerve.

  My father’s quivering muscles and clenching jaw painted the perfect picture of hatred. “This isn’t about her you dumb ass, so don’t you dare make it seem like it is.”

  She glared at him. “So how long have you been seeing her anyway? A few weeks? Months? Years, maybe?”

  “Moira, we’ve had problems for more than a decade. It shouldn’t come as some big surprise that I’ve been seeing her. If it weren’t for you and your damn family, we’d have a normal life, with normal children, free of magic and all the other crap that comes with it. But nooooooooooo . . . I had to marry a freak!”

  My mother’s jaw nearly fell to her lap. “A freak?” she asked. “That’s really how you see me?” Tears cascaded down her ashen, swollen face as she gasped.

  “I didn’t ask for this and you know it. If I had the choice, I would have never in a million years married a Witch. I mean, really, Moira. What man with half a brain would? Women are crazy enough as it is, without adding supernatural bullshit into the mix. Look at your sister for cryin’ out loud. The second Michael found out she was a Witch, he ran for the hills, which is exactly what I should have done years ago.”

  He fixated on the flooding country road, sheets of rain obstructing his view. He turned up the speed of the wipers, the swooshing sound of the blades mimicked my mother’s breathy, rhythmic sobs.

  “Well no one’s forcing you to stay, you know. I can take care of the kid’s just fine on my own. I’ve already been doing it for years anyway.”

  Her seething words seemed to penetrate flesh, muscle, and bone—like no tangible weapon ever could. His scarlet face twisted like a demonic possession. “Oh, so now I’m a bad father? That’s priceless coming from the woman who teaches her children how to use magic. Trust me . . . no judge in the world would give you custody of those kids. Just wait until the world finds out what you and your psychotic family really are.”

  Sheet white, my mother froze. “You wouldn’t! You’ve already exposed us by telling her.” She latched onto his arm. “Please, Daniel . . . promise me you won’t hurt my family that way?”

  Her hysterical pleading would have broken even the most evil man’s heart, but not my father’s. His face turned expressionless. “If you force me out, I honestly don’t know what I’m capable of.”

  Lightning crashed down in several places in the distance, but my father never eased off the gas.

  My mom took steady, deep breaths. “You know I don’t want you to go, Daniel. I still love you just as much as I did the day I married you. But if life with me is so unbearable, I won’t make you stay somewhere you don’t want to be.” As the words left her lips, her tears fell faster than the rain battering the outside of the car.

  He squinted in stymied surprise. “Are you kidding me? You don’t want to make me stay somewhere I don’t want to be?” he asked in a condescending tone. “After ten years of this bullshit, now you won’t make me stay?” Hatred couldn’t even begin to explain the abhorrent gleam in his eyes.

  Ignoring the weather and poor visibility, his rage forced his foot firmly on the accelerator. The engine roared as he sped through the splattering water.

  “Slow down, Daniel!” My mother yelled, unable to divert her attention from the barely visible road.

  Where did this loathing in my father come from? Why hadn’t I ever seen it before?

  She’d pushed him too far this time.

  My father turned the wheel with so much force, the back of my mother’s head slammed into the side window.

  “Daniel, no!” Her lungs hissed like they were ready to burst.

  Slow motion kicked in as he drove the silver SUV through guardrails.

  They plummeted down a darkened ravine—and all I could do was watch.

  My mother took one last look into my father’s enraged eyes as the vehicle sliced through trees, debris, and spewing mud.

  When the abraded vehicle hit bottom, the car exploded on impact.

  And they were gone.

  Those last few seconds played over, and over—like a skipping movie projector.

  The replaying sound of crushing metal, shattering glass, and licking flames was so deafening my head could have burst. But even worse were the noxious fumes of gasoline and antifreeze, mixed with the stench of scorched hair and burning flesh.

  How could I ever forget such smells?

  Then darkness consumed my thoughts as the vision
ended.

  I remember opening my eyes to a room full of classmates, staring at me as if I had two heads. And I couldn’t even defend myself. I can only imagine what my body had involuntarily done during such a horrific vision.

  Afterwards, I was paralyzed.

  I couldn’t breathe.

  In shock, I was unable to gain control of my senses fast enough to comprehend what was about to happen.

  I couldn’t tell my teacher or anyone in my class what I’d just ‘seen’. I had to think—and think fast.

  I jumped from my seat with my hand over my stomach, moaning I was about to be sick. Once Mr. Carr nodded, I bolted from the room as fast as I could towards the nearest pay phone.

  My hands shook, but somehow I managed to pick up the receiver and dial. After two short rings, the voice on the other end said, “Hello?”

  In a frantic tone I spoke. “Gram, I don’t know what to do. I just saw Mom and Dad in a car crash. We have to call them. They can’t leave the city yet. They have to wait!”

  After a brief pause, Gram said, “Chloe, it’s too late, dear. I just got a call from the police.”

  Then it hit me. She’d been crying when she answered the phone, but in my panicked state, I hadn’t noticed. “Did they . . . is she . . . ?”

  “Oh, Chloe. I’m so sorry, dear. You shouldn’t have found out this way. You shouldn’t have had to see it happen.” The pain in her voice rattled me to the core. “I’ll call the school and tell the principle what’s happened. Go get your brother and sister. Your pap will be there shortly.”

  I hung up the phone.

  I was numb.

  I dropped to the floor and cried until my eyes went dry.

  Minutes passed, but I had no idea how many.

  “Okay,” I told myself aloud, trying to get a grip. “You have to find Dru and Dhelia. You have to tell them.”

  My body trembled, but it didn’t keep me from what I knew I had to do. “I’m the big sister, so I have to be the strong one. They can’t see me fall apart.” I continued talking to myself, thinking it would make what I was about to do, somehow make sense.

  But it didn’t.

  How could my father have done this? Pain ripped through my heart again.

  I had no idea how to tell them. But the more I tried focusing on my brother and sister, the more the flashes of my vision permeated my consciousness.

  I stood in front of Dru and Dhelia’s English class, unaware that my feet had carried me down the hall simply by reflex alone.

  As I lifted my hand to knock, I could see Dru on the other side of the room jump to his feet and rush towards the door.

  Before he could make it to the front of the class, Mrs. Reiter pulled the door open. “Yes, Miss. Bishop? Can I help you?”

  As I opened my mouth, Dru and Dhelia stopped beside her.

  With three sets of eyes upon me, the only words I could manage in a broken voice were, “There’s been a terrible accident. We need to leave right away.”

  They knew.

  It was written all over their innocent faces.

  The helpless look in their eyes sent the pain of a piercing bullet straight through my heart.

  An inner battle raged inside of me.

  I wasn’t strong enough for this.

  My heart was determined to protect my family—but my mind knew there was no way I would succeed if my family ever learned the truth.

  In that moment, I knew I could never tell them what happened. What really happened. There was no way I would be responsible for destroying my family—and remaining in Lindenhurst around magic would destroy me.

  So I chose to keep the ugly secrets surrounding their death.

  No one could ever know my father was an adulterer—and a murderer. No matter what.

  I knew our lives would never be the same again, and I would be forced to abandon the only family I had left.

  I had no choice but to leave.

  I couldn’t be around them and risk the truth coming out. Especially since I often talk in my sleep—and during visions.

  So I ran.

  Away from my family.

  Away from my magical gift.

  And away from the truth.

  After the funeral, I took what money I had and flew to California with my mother’s twin sister, Morgan. And I’ve spent the last six years in San Diego with the one person who hates magic more than I do.

  But now, it’s time to rebuild my family’s trust—and gain forgiveness for running away when they needed me the most.

  For the most part, I think Dru forgave me years ago. Dhelia, however, may never. And she’ll never stop punishing me.

  Being back home now is the first step. If we can make it through Pap’s surgery tomorrow, there just might be hope for this family after all.