In Dying Light

Welcome Home - Morgan

The silent forest sent chills down my spine. The wind kept whispering something to the air. I watched as my breath dissolved into the air. The rain was misting as I continued walking. My life is beginning to get worse and worse. I was kicked out of my house and I am currently staying with my grandma and grandpa.

          When I got home, my grandparents were already sleeping. They never really got concerned. It's only if I didn't return home by the morning. Walking through the forest is my way of thinking. Thinking about how screwed up my life is. People never understand. They make assumptions before getting to know a person.

          I peeled off my wet clothes and got into sweatpants and an old t-shirt. My mind was racing and I couldn't think straight. I let out a sigh and crashed on my bed. Tomorrow was a new day. Everything will be alright.

It sucks to know that I have a crappy job that pays under minimum wage that I can't even afford my own apartment. My grandmother always supported me. It was hard. It truly was.

          "Morgan, dear," Grandmother whispered. "You gotta get going."

          "I don't want to go today."

          Grandmother sighed.

          I got up and sat on the edge of the bed. "Don't make me give this talk again, Morgan. I'm sure your momma wouldn't be happy." Grandmother said from the door way.

          "I don't need the talk." I muttered.

          She left the room as I closed the door and got dressed.

Grandmother was downstairs making breakfast. She looked over at me and sighed in awe.

          "You remind me so much of your mother." She smiled.

          I sighed and sat down at the table. I heard my grandfather yelling and complaining. Grandmother sighed.

          "Morgan." He spat.

          "Joe."

          "Don't call me that."

          I rolled my eyes and picked at my breakfast. Grandfather kept looking at me. I looked up at the clock and saw it was time for me to go. My backpack hung on the coat rack by the door. Grandmother stopped me and kissed me on the forehead. "Good luck, dear." She said and I left.

I finally got off my shift. I tried calling my grandparent's house, but no one was answering. It was strange because Grandmother would always answer the phone.

          The car stuttered and finally turned on. I threw my backpack into the back seat and drove off.

There were paramedics and fire trucks sitting in front of our house. I pulled up and got out of my car. Police officers held me back.

          "Ma'am, you can't -"

          "This is my grandparent's house!" I screamed.

          The police officer let go of me and I ran into the house. I saw my grandfather being put into handcuffs. Instantly my eyes grew wide when I saw my grandmother. Her face was bloodied and beaten.

          "What the hell did you do to her?" I screamed at my grandfather.

          "Morgan, this isn't what it looks like."

          "It is. What did you do to her?"

          My grandfather didn't respond. He was pulled out of the house by the two officers holding his arms behind his back. I walked up to the paramedics as they were putting her on a stretcher. Grandmother's blue eyes have turned dark and her skin has turned pale.

          "What did he do to you?" I whispered as a tear rolled down my face.

          "Oh, sweetie," she let out her sweet smile. "Please don't cry."

          Grandmother's hand entwined with mine. She began to look hurt. I smiled sadly as the paramedics pulled her away.

It's been a week and a half. I'm staying in an empty house while my grandfather's in jail and my grandmother's in the hospital. I swear, next time I see him; I'm going to beat him and see how he likes it.

          After work, I'm going to see Grandmother. Today has been the worst day I've had in a while. My boss was constantly yelling at me, people were throwing things at me. The same old problems. I guess living in Alabama has its bad times.

I finally got to leave the crap I call work. The doctors let me see my grandmother. I walked into the room, showing that sweet smile on her face.

          "Morgan." She sighed.

          "Hey." I whispered and sat down in the chair by her bed.

          "How are you doing, darling?"

          "I'm doing decent."

          I rubbed my arm, covering my hands with my jacket sleeve. Grandmother noticed.

          "What's wrong?"

          I sighed and whispered quietly, "Nothing."

          "Morgan. I can see it in you. I've seen you act like this before. Tell me."

          I rolled up my jacket sleeve and revealed the bruises all up and down my arm. "Please don't get mad."

          "Honey, I would never get mad. Is it the people at your work?"

          I nod and wiped the tears from my eyes. I looked up at her, the glass look to my blue eyes. "I don't know what to do anymore."

          "Quit. That's it."

          I talked with her a little longer. Grandmother was like my therapist. I could talk to her about anything and she would never tell anyone. Tears filled my eyes.

          "Come on, Morgan. Let me see your beautiful smile."

          I chuckled and did what she said.

          "That's my girl. Stay strong, dear."

I decided to leave work early. My boss bitched at me for twenty damn minutes. I told him I quit. He stood with a blank expression as I walked out of the restaurant.

          This pain all of a sudden filled my body when I got into my car. I felt like I was going to vomit.

          I rushed home and ran into the bathroom. The pain went away, but there was major pain in my lower stomach. I picked myself up and walked to my bedroom. I closed my door and crashed on my bed. There was an old picture of my family and me when I was young. We were so happy. I pushed the picture face down and didn't even look at it.

          I heard the phone ring in the other room. I groaned and got up. The caller I.D is what shocked me. I answered the phone. "Mom?"

She wanted me to come home. I didn't want to. I wanted to stay with my grandmother. She forced me to.

          Mom was coming to pick me up around three. I packed my things and felt a tear roll down my face. She was going to be here shortly. I walked into my grandparents' room and leaned against the door frame. A car horn honked and knocked me out of my trance.

          I walked downstairs and grabbed my suitcase from the front door, took one last look, and left.

"Why do you want me to come home?" I asked, staring out of the passenger window.

          "Since your grandmother is hurt, she can't look after you."

          "I'm old enough to take care of myself."

          "It's against the law, Morgan."

          "I don't care because you were the one that kicked me out of my own house."

The rest of the ride home was quiet. I couldn't believe this. I couldn't believe that I was going home.