Maya (Book #3)

Chapter 39

Although Charlotte remembered the address from when she had first found me, I directed her most of the way. My leg twitched as we drove, and no matter what jokes they made or music they played, I could not relax. It grew worse as we turned the corner and pulled up onto my street. 

I shut my eyes and my head began to pound as I pictured him waiting outside for me. 

I saw myself running up to the door after school, pink backpack on my shoulders. He waved to the bus driver and smiled his nice smile, so I knew I was safe for now. He held his arms out and I jumped into them, per our routine. He spun and walked us into the house, hands squeezing into my sides just a little too tightly. I tried to remain still; he didn't like it when I squirmed. He set me on the floor in the front room and walked into the kitchen that overlooked it.

"You can play," he announced, as he finished preparing his afternoon snack. "I'll tell you when it's time for us to play."

I took my backpack off and asked if I could go up to my room while I waited. He nodded his head yes and I took off, the vision dissipating with every step up the stairs.

"Maya, we're here," Brooks said delicately, shaking my leg to pull me from the memory. I nodded to show that I was in the present now, but my mind felt divided. The younger version of me was pulling for attention. She was scared and didn't want to go into that house. I waited in the car as Charlotte led the group to the front door and everyone got out. Brooks held out his hand for me to grab but I shook my head, terrified.

Dominic quickly walked back to the car and waved his brother ahead.

"Maya?" Dom asked, taking a seat in the car beside me.

I nodded, eyes wide. I didn't want to say a word. I stayed frozen in my seat, unable to move. My limbs seemed locked into place as if bound by invisible chains.

"Are you okay?" he asked, already knowing the answer. He looked at me, but I stared straight ahead, feeling emotions that didn't match my setting. I was in a car with my older brother, but I felt terrified, disgusted, and afraid.

I shook my head no, wishing I could wipe clean the expression on my face. He shouldn't have to see the fear and revulsion I was experiencing.

"What's wrong, sweetheart? Can you tell me?" he asked in his gentle voice, lowering the volume to a whisper.

I shook my head no.

"I'm not supposed to tell," I whispered, in a soft voice that didn't match my own.

"Why not?" he asked, but I had already said too much. I pictured my uncle locking his lips and mentally did the same, nodding obediently to him in my memory.

"Do you want to go inside?" he asked, placing his hand on mine. I pulled it back involuntarily, drawing it into my chest. I waited, hoping that action wouldn't anger him. He repeated his question, seeming unbothered by my action.

"I don't want to," I said, still speaking faintly. My voice was higher pitched, and I realized she had taken over. I didn't know how to snap back. 

I waited for Dominic to tell me that I had to go inside. I waited for him to yell at me and tell me how his family had driven all this way and I didn't have a choice in the matter. He thought about it and then spoke.

"You don't have to," he decided, assuaging my fears. "I can take us home right now, or we can take a little walk if we need to. There are options. You don't have to do anything you don't want to do."

I breathed out and then squeezed over next to him and wrapped him in a hug. With those few words, I was back.

"I can do it, Dom. Sorry I got weird there." I said, feeling immense embarrassment. His shoulders lost all tension and he kissed me on the forehead.

"I completely understand. I know you don't want to be here, and if I'm being honest, I don't either. But if we find anything that could help you, I want to try." He said, getting out of the car and holding the door open for me. I slid out behind him, and we met our family by the door. They smiled at me patiently, not bothered by the momentary wait.

They parted for me to lead us in, and I walked up to the door with trepidation. It looked the exact same as it always had, except there was yellow crime scene tape crossing over it like old Halloween decorations. Some pieces flew up in the wind and others hung drearily down it, barely bothering to sway anymore. I reached out and twisted the handle, before pushing it open with a creak.

I took a small step inside, and I was home.