Chapter 2: Is there really no place like home?

The bus home from Ethan’s is lonely. It’s only me, an old man, and a rough looking couple covered in piercings and tattoos. I feel the old man’s eyes on the back of my head. I didn't want to be going home, but Ethan’s parents suggested that I go home and let Ethan study. Actually it was less of a suggestion, more of a hint that I should go. There was something strange about the way they said it. Kind of eerie. Like they were hiding something. They never send me home. Even if no one is home, they let me stay there alone. They even gave me a key. I hope everything is okay. The tattooed couple get off at their stop. Only 2 stops left until I'm home. A mother with a young child in a stroller. 1 stop. I can see my house from here. My heart begins to pound faster in my chest. I pull the cord and signal my stop. Shakely, I stand up and slowly walk to the front of the bus. “Take a deep breath and calm yourself. It’s okay. It’s home. You're supposed to like it,” I tell myself. The bus slows down and stops. The driver opens the doors. I stop thinking for a second and thank the driver. I step of the bus and stare at my house. There’s 15 feet between me and my family. 15 feet between me and my guilt. 15 feet between me and my struggle. I can do this. I begin to walk. I can do this. 11 feet. I can do this. Breathe. 5 feet. Stop shaking. 1 foot. I grab my key. 0 feet. I unlock the door and walk in. There are 4 pairs of shoes at the door. My brother’s, my mother’s, my sister’s and a pair I don’t recognize. Another sex partner for Nikki, I guess. I step out of my shoes and I hear heavy steps above me. Spencer, I hope. I’m right. His head pokes around the corner.

 

“Hey, sis. I was beginning to think you moved in with Ethan.”

 

He chuckles at his own joke.

 

“I doubt Mom or Nikki would notice.”

 

“I would.”

 

I shrug and walk into the kitchen. Ethan sent me home with a few cookies. I take them out of my bag and put them on the counter. Next to them I leave a note.

 

 Courtesy of Ethan. Enjoy!

 

I know those will be gone by the time dinner is ready. I guess I should say by the time dinner is delivered. Mom doesn't cook, so we order in most of the time. Spencer’s girlfriend sometimes cooks if she’s here. I like Shelby. She’s nice. Her and Spencer met last year on a University tour and now they are both in their second year. Spencer was going to get his own apartment, but decided to stay here with me.

 

I grab an apple from the fridge and go upstairs. It’s bruised, but I eat it anyway. Around here, you've got to take what you can get before it’s gone. I walk down to hall to my room. When I pass Nikki’s room, I don't see any light under her door, but I can hear her giggling inside. Everyone is my house knows what’s going on in there, but we choose to ignore it. She used to sing a long time ago when she was upset. She’s a good singer, but after a humiliating talent show performance when she was is grade 8, she stopped singing. I wasn't allowed at the talent show, but from what I heard, it was pretty bad. Sometimes I hear her singing in the shower or quietly to herself, she’s still really good, but I guess she uses her mouth for something else now. Spencer says that’s how she deals with Dad’s death. You know daddy issues and all.. Mom gets mad and blames me. I cry, cut and struggle to keep living. I don't know what Spencer does. He’s very private. I guess Dad was the glue of the family. He kept us together. Without him we kind of just fall apart. When he died, we lost a lot of our money putting together the funeral and buying him a burial plot. He didn't have any family left. They all died a long time ago, so it was up to us to pay for it all. After that, we had to sell a lot of our stuff. We didn't sell any of his stuff, Mom kept it all. I had to sell my bike, computer and TV. I don't know what everyone else sold. I just hid in my room during that time. I still hide in my room. I wish I had Ethan when this was all happening. I guess I had Tyler, but he didn’t help. He blamed me too. When I told him that my Mom blamed me, he just agreed with her. What else should I have expected from a verbally abusive boyfriend? I’m doing it again. I'm zoning out. I snap out of it. My hands on my doorknob and the giggling from Nikki’s room stopped.

 

“You're actually such a freak!”

 

I turn around; Nikki is standing behind me with today’s victim. I can't handle this right now, so I remain quiet and walk into my room. A few years ago I would have slammed my door shut if someone was mean to me, but Mom didn't know I was home yet and that would be a telltale sign that I was home. I’m not ready to be blamed and ridiculed just yet, so I shut it lightly and sit on my bed. Everything’s bottled up. Everything thought feeling and emotion. I can’t keep it together anymore; before I start to cry. It’s not the type of crying that I would do in front of Ethan or even Aria. It’s the type of cry that comes in the dead of night when no one is around and you can't handle life anymore. I grab my pillow and scream into it. I grad Dad’s old college sweater from my closet and hold it tight to my chest and sob. No. This isn't enough. I need more. I need something to calm me down. I need to control that pain. I need control in my life. I open the top drawer of my dresser and move everything around until I find what I'm looking for. A blade; a shiny, silver blade. My savior. I bring it to any visible skin and slice. And slice. And slice. It happens so fast. It always does. I never regret it, though. I deserve this. I deserve this pain. I deserve worse. I killed my own Father. When I'm done, I just sit there. I sit there and bleed. I deserve this. After 10 minutes pass, I reach into my bag and pull out my phone. 3 missed calls. All from Ethan. I calm myself down as fast as possible. He can’t know. I call him back.

 

“Hello?”

 

“Ethan, it’s me. What’s going on? Why’d you call me 3 times?”

 

“Oh my god, Kendall. I'm so glad you called me back. After you left, my parents told me my great-uncle died. The one in Italy. The reason my family has all our money.”

 

“Oh, Ethan. I’m so sorry. Are you okay?”

 

“I’m fine. I didn't really know him. I met him once when I was two. That’s not why I called.”

 

He pauses.

 

“Ethan? Are you there?”

 

“Yes. I’m still here, but I won't be for long. I have to go to Italy after exams.”

 

Neither of us says anything.

 

“How long will you be gone?”

 

No reply.

 

“Ethan! How long will you be gone.”

 

He’s quiet when he answers me.

 

“A month.”

 

My heart drops. We've never been apart for more than a week since we started dating.

 

“A month?”

 

“Kendall, I'm so sorry. They won’t let me stay here. I tried to convince them to let me stay. I even convinced them to let you come, but they said it’s family only.”

 

I want to cry again. I can hear his voice shaking. He’s scared. He’s afraid to leave me here alone.

 

“I don't know what to say, Ethan.”

 

“I do. I'm coming over. I’m going to spend the night with you. I don't care what my parents say and I don't care about what your Mom says. I'm not going away for a month without spending as much time as possible with you.”

 

He hangs up before I can argue with him. I sit stunned for a few minutes, and then look down at my fresh cuts. He can't see the blood. I have to shower. I quickly jump into the shower and wash away as much of the blood as possible. What if he sees? What if he gets mad? What if he can't handle me anymore? What if he leaves me? I'm so scared. How long have I been in here? I need to get out! It’s too hot! I can't breathe! I stumble out of the shower and sit on the bath mat. I don’t bother reaching for my towel. I sit there and rock back and forth. I could end it all now. There are razors is the drawer. There are pills in the cabinet. Mom takes sleeping pills. A handful of those will take me away from here.

 

“Kendall, your boyfriend is here!”

 

Spencer just called me. Oh no. Mom has to know that I’m home now. Wait, how long have I been home? Maybe she already left for work? I hope she did.

 

“I'm up here!”

 

I call back and reach for the bathrobe hanging on the back of the door. I don't have the strength to leave the bathroom, so I just unlock the door. I can hear Ethan calling my name and I knock on the door to tell him I'm in here. He knows the routine. This isn't the first time this has happened. It’s the hot water. It makes me feel trapped. I've been trapped before in the bathrooms at school. Charlotte usually locks me in the broken stall if she’s not harassing me through her phone.

 

“Kendall, are you okay?”

 

Ethan comes into the bathroom and picks me up off the floor. I'm too weak to say anything else, so I nod pathetically. He carries me into my room and puts me on my bed. He runs through the usual motions. Finding me something to wear, dressing me, and brushing my hair. I owe him so much. This time he puts me in Dad’s sweater and a pair of sweatpants. I love him more than I can express. I know that he loves me too. If he didn't he wouldn't pick me off the floor and dress me every time I have a shower induced breakdown. I manage to force out a weak thank you and kiss him on the cheek.

 

“Babe, I brought my computer. I was thinking we could watch a movie or that fashion show you like. What do you think?”

 

I nod and curl into him. He’s so warm, but I like it. It’s the kind of warmth that you fall asleep to. It reminds me of when I used to have nightmares as a child. I would come into my parent’s room in the middle of the night and they would open up their bed to me. Now, I can't even be in the same room as Mom.

 

“Can we go visit him?”

 

I want to visit Dad. I miss him. Ethan understands what I’m asking and kisses my head.

 

“Take a little nap and then we can. I'll take you to get some nice flowers to leave for him.”

 

“Thank you, Ethan. Daisies. White daisies. They're his favourite.”

 

White daisies. I know they're not his favourite, but he always said they were, because when I was four, he fell and broke his arm, and I brought him white daisies that I picked from the neighbour’s garden. He told me he loved them and that they were his new favourite flower. I miss him. I’m tired. I’m warm. Tired. Tired. Warm. So warm. Miss him. Tired. Asleep.

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