The End of Summer

Chapter 40- 'If she wanted to help, do it with food. Every amateur knows that.'

I don’t know why I was so nervous. I mean I was going home. Finally I was going to be in my own room, in my own house with my own shower. Oh god, my shower.

As I stood outside my front door however, my stomach was out of my ass and by my ankles. The last time I was in this house, everything was so different.

I had finally been released from the hospital. For some reason, even though I was fine apart from a few scratches on my neck, they had insisted on keeping me in for a few more days. After four of the slowest, most boring days of my life (excluding when we would go to Jaden’s room and piss off the other patients by how loud we were) they finally said I could go home.

Police were by almost every single day to ask me to repeat my statement, to ask if I had remembered anything or left anything out about what had happened. I wanted to bitch slap them because if there was one thing I was sure about, it was the fact that there was no way in hell I would forget anything that had happened anytime soon.

My dad opened the front door, holding it for me as my mum for some bizarre reason had her arm over my shoulder and was walking me into the house like I had a bad hip.

I turned to look at her “Mum I have some scratches on my neck, not a broken ankle.”

“I’m just trying to make sure you’re okay.” She informed me, and still she did not let go of me. I rolled my eyes. One of the most irritating things about being held hostage by a crazy murderer? The fact that your parents travel back in time and start fussing over you like you were a toddler who had not learned to piss in a toilet yet.

“If you want to make sure I’m okay then feed me. I’m starving.” I give her a quick smile. If she really wanted to help then do it with food. Every amateur knows that.

As if God came down to perform a miracle himself, she began to furiously nod her head as she let go of me.

“Okay, sit yourself down and I’ll go and make something. I think I have some sausage and pepperoni in the fridge. Oh, a pizza. Do you want a pizza?” And with that, she was off in the kitchen somehow trying to nurse me back to health by making me the meatiest pizza known to man. I was not putting up a fight I can assure you of that.

I sat myself on the sofa, looking around the room and having that weird feeling you get when you move house. You know when you walk in and just feel like everything is so new, like it was going to have to take a lot to adjust to. Last time I was in this living room, I was arguing with my mother and glaring at my father because I knew he had been cheating on her.

They had not said a single word about the affair to me. From what I could see, they were okay. Well, that was a little bit of a lie. They were both there for me, fussing over me and making sure I was okay but unless the conversation revolved around who was going to drive back from the hospital, they said pretty much nothing to each other. I didn’t miss my mother ripping her hand away from his when they were sitting by my hospital bed. I didn’t miss the scowl on her face when her eyes allowed her to actually look in his direction. I knew they weren’t fine, but they had both decided to put it on pause for me.

I didn’t know whether I felt guilty for that or grateful.

My dad was standing by the stairs, dropping a few bags on the floor before looking at me with a smile.

“You happy to be home?” he asked.

I glanced around the room again, feeling this strange feeling in my stomach. I don’t know how to explain it; it was like something was hollow.

“I don’t know yet.” I thought out loud, telling him probably the most honest thing I could get out.

His face dropped with worry “Why? Is your neck hurting?”