Red For Rebellious

And The Walls Go Down

While life around my house was getting better, and my mom seemed to be back to her normal self, one day I found myself searching for the key to Melody’s room. After rifling through my dad’s office drawers, I came across the right one. Now I stood in her open doorway, looking at all the familiar things. Most of her stuff was packed up in boxes, but a few stray pictures and miscellaneous items sat upon the desk and dresser. Even some of her clothes were still hung up in the closest.

Somehow in my moment of gazing I managed to switch on the light. It flickered twice before fully illuminating the room. Her lavender walls somehow looked faded, and maybe it was because they were bare, or maybe just simply because she was no longer there to fill the room with life. Her constant presence only remained in the photos around the house and this room. Once and a while I would find one of her bobby pins in between the couch cushions or lying on the floor, but besides that all reminders of her were confined to this one room.

Taking in a long shaky breath, I willed myself to move forward. With each step I felt my chest tighten and the world squeeze around me; almost as if I were being strangled. I reached Melody’s window and pulled it open so that some fresh air could fill the stuffy room. Never had I referred to Melody’s room as stuffy. It was usually the most comfortable place in the house to be, and she always had some yummy smelling candle burning. But without her, the room was just another room; just another space taken up by clutter and dust mites.

I could picture Melody the night of the party. I was sitting on the bed while she was getting ready. “Why don’t you listen to me when I tell you how gorgeous you are?” she had said.

My chest squeezed even tighter at the thought. What if things would have been different? What if I could have convinced her to spend the night with me? Once and a while I was able to get her to bail out on a party. We would spend all night watching movies and eating junk food. Why had I even agreed to go?

Before I knew it, I was on the ground, my knees pulled tight to my chest. I took in as much air as I could, which wasn’t much at all. Breathe I told myself sternly. You will not have another attack!

And suddenly, just as I took another desperate breath of air, a dark shadow appeared in the hallway. I looked up from the floor expecting to see my mother who must have arrived early from yoga class, or my father who must have gotten off work early, but it was neither.

Colton?

Colton moved from beneath the doorway and towards me in slow strides. He kneeled next to me and calmly rested a hand on my shoulder. I tried to control my breathing; I didn’t want him to see me like this…so helpless.

“Just let it out Sutton,” he said quietly, reaching up towards my face.

His thumb caught something on my bottom eyelash, and it was then that I realized my eyes were foggy with tears. Wet, hot salty tears. And then suddenly they were rolling down my cheeks in huge drops, each leaving a warm trail behind. I could breathe. The more the tears came, the more I could breathe. My body shook as he pulled me into his lap. Everything I had worked so hard to bury deep down was all coming out, and in front of the strongest person I knew.

Every wall I put up was coming down in this once instant.

I don’t know how long I sat with Colton on the floor in Melody’s room, but we stayed seated long after the tears were gone. Colton was stroking my arm with his thumb when I finally said something. “I’m sorry.”

He pulled away and looked at me carefully. “For what?”

“For breaking down, for crying all over you like some—“