Don’t Call Me Angel

 There are a many things in life that I don’t like. One thing I definitely don’t like is being lied to. Such as being raised to believe that my father is my father only to find out that my father is my uncle. And the devil is my father. How am I to react to that? I have cried, screamed, denied and all because one fact became a lie and the thing I want to be a lie is the truth. But is it really the truth? 

 Since chasing Jarod six years ago, I have been trying to find the truth. The truth about who killed my mother, the truth about the Centre and the truth about who I really am. Oh my god, I just sounded like Jarod when I said the last part, about who I really am. We really do have a lot in common. More than I would like to admit.

 The problem I have now, is accepting the truth. If the devil, as I like to call him, is really my father, then who does that make me? The spawn of Satan? I have always liked to think of my mother as an angel. Loving, giving, helping and forgiving. My ‘daddy’ called me as his angel. He made me into an avenging angel, a fallen angel. If my mother is an angel and my father is the devil, then I ask the same question. What does that make me? When you really look at it, Lucifer is a fallen angel. So that makes me half and half. Half good and half bad.  

I want to be my mother’s good little girl, but times have changed. I have changed. I want to so desperately be given a better life, the life my mother wanted for me. I want the turning point Jarod talked about in the limo, where I felt I had none and turned him away. The question is, if I am given a turning point, when do I know, and will I have the courage to take it?

I have to make a decision. Do I really want to know if Mr. Raines is my father, biologically at least? I feel scared to the bone, knowing that he could be. If he is, and my mother is right, then he knows all the secrets. But does that mean he and my mother had a relationship? Or was his genetic material implanted in my mother to create me and Lyle?

Something else I don’t like is being called ‘Angel’ by anyone other than my father. The dilemma is, if Raines is my father, then will I be obligated to let him call me ‘Angel’? Hell no! I don’t care what anyone says, Mr. Parker was my father, always was and always will be. He raised me like I was his daughter. He even loved me, I think. Isn’t that terrible? I don’t even know if he really loved me or just used me. It doesn’t matter anymore, because even if he was still alive, he lied to me more than once. I’ll never look for his approval again.

The sad thing is, if I were to be really honest, I know who has treated me as his daughter and was sincere in loving me without ever having to say it, without ever using me. Sydney. That’s something else Jarod and I share. We have the same proverbial father. Only I never let him know, not really, because I would have felt like I was betraying my real father. That makes me laugh. It makes me laugh now that I know that daddy might not have been my biological father.

I had Mr. Raines’ blood sample taken out of storage to compare to mine. I’ll know in just a short while who my biological father is. I wonder what my mother meant by saying that my father knows all the secrets? Who did she mean by father? Did she mean my biological father, or the father I have known all my life or a father figure? I wish I could ask her.

Broots comes in the office to tell me the results. His face tells me what I need to know. Mr. Raines is my father. I can’t believe this is where my life has come to. It has come to one of the hardest revelations I have ever had, Mr. Raines being my biological father. I decide to go to his office.

I open the doors to see him smiling in his office chair, the chair my father... Mr. Parker had sat during his reign as chairman. I feel bile rise from my stomach into my throat. I feel disgusted. How could momma not tell me who my real father is? Or did she not know? The last thought I have before swallowing my pride to welcome him as chairman and my biological father is that he better not call me ‘Angel’.