Coming Home

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Maddie: Present Day

I'm surprised my brain is rational enough to think to charge my phone. I plug it into the socket in the small living area and then jump into the shower.

I don't feel anything as I stand there under the hot spray. I can't feel the pounding water pressure or the heat of the water or even the tears that I think must be running down my face. I'm only aware that the water was too hot when I get out and see my red, puckered skin in the bathroom mirror. I glance up and look into my hooded eyes. They look hollow. There's a tiredness in them that has nothing to do with the shift I've just worked.

I go through the motions of toweling myself dry and getting dressed. By the time I'm done, I wish there was something I could do to prolong my next task. But there isn't anything I can do in this apartment that won't wake up my roommates.

I sneak back into the living area, keeping the lights off as I skirt around furniture like an obstacle course. It's easy to spot my phone. It's a beacon of light in almost total darkness. I crouch down to pick it up, enter my code, and click on the last number that dialed me.

"Who is this?" Asks a quiet, weary voice.

"Lilian, you called earlier. It's Maddie." I whisper into the darkness.

I hear movement on the other end, the sound of a door opening and then closing before her voice speaks again.

"Thank you for calling me back. I'm sorry about the message I left. It's the worst way you could've found out... but I needed to make sure you called back."

I understand what she means. If she had left a message saying to just call her, I probably wouldn't have. My pride would've stood in the way. For a second, I feel such intense self-loathing that I have to squeeze my eyes shut to stop the sob that tries to climb out of my throat.

"What happened, Lilian? What happened to my father?" I ask, my voice shaking. I clench my free hand, feeling my nails dig into the palm of my hand.

"It was an accident... he was coming home from work when a drunk driver hit him... they say he died on impact."

This time, I don't hide the sob that climbs out of my throat. Lilian is silent on the line while she allows me to process her words.

"Just like that? Do they know who did it?" I ask, trying to focus on anything other than the fact that my father is dead.

"Yes. The driver didn't make it too far from the scene before he was arrested. As far as I know, he's still in custody."

I should say more to her. I should apologize for her loss and ask her how she's doing. But I can't. I feel my knees sink into the hardwood floor and I curl my arms protectively around myself.

"Listen, I'm going to let you go now. Now that I have your number, I'll send you the details for his funeral. Ok?"

"Ok," I repeat.

"And Maddie?" She says before I press the end button.

"Yeah?"

"He loved you. With all his heart." And then she hangs up.

I don't know what to do now. I keep the phone pressed to my ear even though I'm no longer on the call. What do I do? It's only three in the morning. The thought of sleep is useless. Even with the exhaustion I can feel in my body, my mind is alive with questions.

Who? What? How? When? Why?

I try to remember the last time I spoke to my father and come up blank. What was the last thing he'd said to me? What did I say to him? Were we nice to each other? It's been so long that I'm not even sure what my last interaction with him was.

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