assignment: trauma

"What do you mean, you're cutting me off?!"

"I'm sorry, sweetie, your father feels very strongly about this. He doesn't hold with you running around with that... Man."

Cara closed her eyes, gripping the receiver tightly. Her deep breaths were obvious on the other end of the phone call, but she needed to be in control. This conversation was not going he way she needed it to.

"I've already told you, mom, here is nothing... Untoward... Going on with me and Dante. He's just a guy. I met him at the coffee shop, he's harmless!"

She knew it was a lie.

"I know you trust him sweetie, but you know your father. And I have to agree with him."

Cara knew that didn't mean anything. Just because she HAD to, didn't mean she wanted to. But that didn't change facts. Her father's word was law. She was screwed.

"Can't you just, I don't know, warm him up a little? I can try to talk to him after..."

"I'm sorry, dear. There's nothing to be done."

Cara held on desperately, trying not to cry, but feeling the tears slip through the cracks of her eyelids anyway. She could hear her mother hesitate, that small smack of her lips as she reluctantly opened her mouth and the small hum as air rushed through her nose. The words which eventually came out felt like a knife twisting in her gut.

"Dont call here again."

The air rushed out of Cara's lungs and the room grew cold. She couldn't possibly mean that. She was their daughter...

"Mommy...?"

The harsh click of the dial tone swelled and permeated her ear canal. Time had stopped. The world had stopped. Her parents had abandoned her. What was she going to do? Her stupid job at the coffee shop barely made her enough to pay the rent, let alone all the other stuff. And now she had Dante...
The first thing she could think of was her bank account. Maybe they hadn't closed it yet. Maybe if she went there now she could pull everything out and just keep it under the mattress or something.

The dial tone ended abruptly, as Cara slammed the receiver down onto the cradle and she grabbed her house key from the counter before running out of the tiny apartment, stopping only to step into her shoes. Her bank was around the corner, and she made it here in a matter of minutes. Heading straight for the ATM attached to the outside wall of the building, she shoved her card into the tiny slot, punching in her identification number with shaking digits. Her vision swam as tears welled up and over, down her cheeks. She was scared. What if they'd cancelled her account before her mother'd called? What if she was truly and honestly alone now?

Cara blinked and stared at the tiny display on the large machine. Something was wrong. Those weren't the number that stared back at her the last time she'd made a deposit and checked her balance. She was hoping, though not expecting, to see 546.32. That was the number written down in her deposit book. She'd had that number memorized. At least until she'd make her next purchase or another deposit. The number staring back at her was much longer. There was now around 10,000 dollars sitting in her account, the difference being suspiciously the same amount as the trust her father had set up for after she finished college. She wasn't supposed to see it until she'd gotten her degree in hand, but there it was. It was hers now.

She closed her eyes again, saying a silent and simple 'thank you' to her mother, for her compassion and for her bravery. She cleared the screen on the ATM display, and headed to the bank lobby. She had to pull this money out before her father realized what had happened.