Chapter 53 Home
fifty-three
Home
It’s close to four in the morning by the time I make it home. My apartment is packed. The few things I’m keeping are in a box in the back of my car or in the two suitcases I’m taking with me to Korea. Everything else I threw away or left beside a donation bin at the Goodwill.
The house is dark. I stand in the yard for what feels like a long time, just looking at the shadowed remnants of my life–the house, the barn, everything that I once loved.
Home.
It used to be my safe place, and now it’s full of things I can’t let myself remember and things I want to forget.
The hollow ache in my heart threatens to overwhelm me. I force myself to keep moving. I find the key hidden in the birdhouse, and sneak in the back door. If I’m quiet enough, I can get in, find my passport and be gone before they even know I’ve come home.
I haven’t slept for almost twenty-four hours. I’ve been running on pure adrenaline and caffeine, but I don’t feel tired. I haven’t slept well for a very long time. My body is used to it.
I leave everything in the car and go inside. I’m trying to remember when my passport is. Did I put it in my desk drawer, or in the top of my closet? What if Mom put it in the file cabinet in the office?
Whatever happens, I can’t wake any of them up. I can’t face their questions or the looks they'll give me when I tell them I’m leaving. I can’t let them try to change my mind.
The house is so quiet. For a minute I wonder if everyone is gone. The surreal part of me imagines they moved away, or that this was never my house, or that I'm walking around in some kind of dream.
The picture on the mantel and the triangle flag in the display box beside it bring me back.
I try not to look, but I’m drawn there. I stop and put my hand on the flag.
More than anything, I want to talk to Matt.
I want to tell him about how badly I’ve messed everything up and what a disaster I’ve become.
I want to ask him what he thinks about my running away, even what he thinks about me and Michael now.
He wanted this. He wanted me to be with Michael. He told Michael to take care of me. Is that why I’ve stuck with Michael, even though I know none of this is right? Is that why Michael has stuck with me?
Keep moving, keep moving.
I have to get my passport and get out of here. If I hesitate now, I’ll lose what little control I have left.
I climb the stairs to my bedroom, purposely avoiding the third stair from the top, the one that squeaks, the one Matt warned me about. Damn. This entire house is full of my brother. Everything I see, everywhere I go.
I open the door to my bedroom slowly. I pause, listening for any stirrings from the other rooms, before I pull the door shut behind me.
The room is pitch black, but I don’t want to turn on the light.
Silver moonlight slips through a gap between the curtains.
I cross the room and pull them open all the way, so I can see without turning on the light.
I don’t even realize he’s here until I turn around.