Butterflies

Chapter Thirteen

I'm not sure why I woke up so early, maybe anticipation? But whatever it was had me clambering out of bed, and flicking on the closet light switch just to sit inside of it and pull out my journals.

There's countless more. I mean, I had to have written at least 2 a year. It's fascinating to see what my 2nd grade brain thought about my best friends. Reading about all the good times we had? It's funny too, because as I read I could replay the memories in my brain so it was like I was living it all over again.

I don't let my brain get ahead of itself thinking about the last things I wrote in the year I left. I'm not there yet, just slowly reading my way through time. Reading through my childhood.

I think all I can take today was the rest of that journal, so I close the box, flick off the light, and start making my way downstairs.

The sun shines brightly through the big window in the kitchen, exposing our beautiful green backyard. The sun is just barely touching the trees, I admire it for as long as I can. I missed this view. After the sun is completely over the horizon and shining way too brightly for....7am, I read on the clock.

I debate about making anything other than a bowl of cereal, and quickly decide against it, speaking for the fact that I do not want to be cleaning up this house again.

I mean, I just got the stench of alcohol out, I do not need burnt pancakes to add to that.

I take in the silence, and realize that I haven't actually been alone with my thoughts since being home, because of everyone I have been surrounded by.

Don't get me wrong, I love it, but now that I'm actually feeling healthy, and happy, the silence is comforting. I'm not afraid anymore, ya know? Well, at least not constantly. Not everyone is completely perfect, but I'd say I'm completely average now.

With a smile on my face, I eat my cheerios against the window, curling my tiny legs up to my chest. I can't help but feel excited for the day to come.

Yes, I have to put up with Milo, but it's not so bad anymore. It's kind of...dare I say amusing? I giggle to myself at what Milo would say if I told him that. "What are you laughing at?" I jump so far out of my skin, I'm afraid I might've lost a few bones when I hear the familiar voice ask.

More specifically, mom's voice. I'm breathing heavily, resting my hand on my chest as I stare at her wide eyed. Her eyebrow quirked in a questioning, but suspicious way at the same time. "Geez, you scared me mom." I laugh nervously, running my fingers through my tired hair.

Ugh, I need a shower.

"So?" She questions further. I groan, thinking about drawing myself in my cereal bowl, then quickly realizing that's not going to be possible, and stick with a half truth of sorts I can tell her. "I, well, am happy to be back." I blurt. She snorts, and starts brewing herself coffee. "Isabelle." Her stern voice has me gulping for that peaceful morning air I had earlier.

"I'm happy to get back out on the water today?" I try again, rising my voice in a question like tone. Gosh darnit. My cover is blown. "Isabelle Mona." Uh-oh, she used the middle name. "I'm happy to see...Milo?" I whisper, again questioning but not because it's a lie. Because I'm afraid of how she's going to react.

Laughing was not what I expected.

"It's not funny." I mumble, staring at the few remaining cheerios in my bowl. "Sorry, excuse me, but isn't that obvious? I know you miss him, he misses you too honey." My ears perk, but my head stays down. "No he doesn't. He's always arguing with me." Except for earlier this week, but I don't spill that small, vile piece of information.