Trial and Error (Spank-fic)

Chapter 19: Trial and Error

1 day, 4 hours, and 37 minutes.

It's been exactly 1 day, 4 hours, and 37 minutes since I saw Nick drunk.

I can't shake his expression from my head; his desperate, sorrowful, pleading, expression. But since then, he's been like a ghost. I haven't seen him around the house, only glimpses of dirty dishes in the sink, of more liquor bottles disappearing (yes, I know where he keeps them), of crumpled clothes he's too lost to notice. 

Every time my eye catches a glimpse of him, my heart squeezes, reminding myself that in a few days its all going to disappear. Once he gets sober enough he'll send me back. The thought sits heavy in my chest, digging out holes in parts I thought had long been cemented by hate, frozen solid in a lifetime worth of sorrow.

Outside the world has gone silent and lately, her colors have seemed to be dimming, day by day. The birds dart around, a muted mosaic of red and blues, while the sky slowly seeps into a dusty pink, like an old painting, half-finished, long forgotten on a rotting canvas by God.

I can't stand it anymore. I can't stand being in this house, in this place full of fading memories, this place of ghosts and shadows.

I need to get out.

The thought barely escapes my mind when I'm already flying down the stairs, sneakers in hand, a hasty note in hand, letting Nick know that I'll be back.

I want him to know that I'm not running away. I'm just....clearing my head.

Yes, just clearing my head. Nothing less, nothing more.

Carefully placing the note in a place I know that Nick will see it, I slip on my sneakers and let the oak door slide shut behind me, the thump sending a shiver down my spine.

For the first time in ages, I let loose my tense shoulders, drop my neck, stretch my neck until the knots feel less tight, less like a noose around my neck and more like a warm, winter scarf hugging instead of strangling me.

I bring my cracking, barely-held-together ear buds to my ear and simply begin to walk. I don't know where, forget why. My playlist of Disney songs singing of princesses and witches begin to play in my ear, spinning tales of handsome heroes and loving parents.

Parents. With an 's',  as in multiple. 

I quickly shake the thought from my head. 

I've always loved Disney songs. After all, I can't remember the countless nights spent squished between my parents on our couch, a Disney movie marathon playing on the TV, our off-key voices jumbling together to sing-alongside the characters in every song. The memory brings a soft smile to my face, the voices of my parents jumping alive for the briefest of moments.

But then my smile drops as I look up to see where my feet have taken me.

A pool.

My breath gets knocked from my lungs. After all these years, and I still end up to the very place it started.

The school's pool stands a lone structure, the building hidden by shadows even in the sun. Angry vines curled around it, and the scattering of leaves covering every surface suggested the janitor certainly dropped the pool from his routine.

With a tremor in my hands, I pushed the door to the pool, holding my breath as the familiar stench of chlorine rushed my senses, sending a flood of memories through every fiber of my being.

I placed a foot in and the world behind me disappeared, falling away as the shadows swallowed me whole.

I was utterly alone. The pale lights above flickered, painting the still water of the pool a murky blue.