Redemption

UNWORTHINESS NEVER LEFT MY MIND

I stayed up too late last night. My mind jumped back and forth between wanting to sneak out and trusting my brother. Something familiar breathed down my neck. Unworthiness never left my side. It made sure to inform me it wasn't ever too far away. It'd always be in the back of my mind, sitting next to its best friend's rejection. They were always hand and hand. Wherever the one went, the other followed. I'd always been the middleman, enjoying their company, and realizing they're the closest to not being alone I'd ever be. A part of me always knew they were the reason for that, but then trust issues would knock on the door to join the party, and suddenly we're all sitting in the same room together.

I guess I waited up all night for some kind of indication that I'd be kicked out when morning came, but during that time I fell asleep, and when a golden light shined through the sheer curtains to kiss me awake, I held onto the hand of hope. While my breathing steadied, I listened to the sound of silence. Nothing happening downstairs and no footsteps in the hallway. I wasn't sure what to do. If I was allowed to do anything, to begin with. I barely even knew where I was. I've only heard of Iowa City – I never dreamt of coming here. My only dream was to escape Hell House. I've fantasized about what it'd be like after I got away, but it feels like nothing. It's just after, and now I'm trying to understand what that even is.

I rubbed my eyes to wipe away the lack of sleep crusting at the skin at the same time a knock erupted at my door. I looked up to find Joey's head popping through the threshold. She gave me a little nod before slowly stepping inside. My eyebrows furrowed in confusion as she sighed and stepped back outside of the door until a large tote came barreling through with her behind it, struggling to push it inside.

"Fletcher thought it'd be a good idea to clean out the closet. Something about needing space or whatever," she grunted with a last attempt to shove the tote further into the bedroom. "So, here I am. Feel free to help yourself to whatever you want. I brought an array of things. Clothes, comforters, decorations, curtains, candles, fake candles, books. You know – typical stuff. Uh – I actually have some plants too, but they're dying, and Carter has too many in his room, so you're more than welcome to have them. That is if you're into that kind of stuff."

Before I could say anything, she gasped. "Oh my god. Good morning. I should've started out with saying that, but I was so excited, I came barreling in. Anyways – I've also got hangers. I've washed some of the clothes. Uh – some of them might have tags still," she plopped down on the ground. "Wait – do you want something to eat? I might not know how to cook, and I've almost burnt my college dorm down once, but I feel like I've improved. So, I can make you French toast or something. It's only nine."

"You almost burnt down your dorm room?"

"First date with Fletch," she snickered. "I told him I could make Cast Iron steak. Turns out, if you follow a recipe step by step on YouTube, you can still fuck it up."

"Will we be safe if you try cooking now?"

Her head immediately moved back and forth. "No. There's no guaranteeing that."

I followed her down the stairs into the kitchen, watching as she sifted through the fridge. "Does this mean you're not kicking me out?"

She popped up, looking back at me. "Why would we kick you out?"

"You know – after what happened last night."

"With Carter?"

"Fletcher freaked out."

"Fletcher has spent every day since I've met him, waiting for your phone call," she sighed. "I don't know what happened to you, but you both had traumatic experiences stemming from your parents, but he's spent his whole life after escaping wishing he could've saved you too. He spent every night wondering if you didn't call because something happened to you. So, when he heard stuff crashing from your bedroom last night, it was like being back in that house all over again."

"I know he's my brother, but it's like looking at a stranger who I once had memories with," I picked at the skin around my fingernails. "I thought seeing him would spark something inside of me. That catching even the slightest glimpse of normalcy would prove to me that I'm capable of living a simple life."

"That's not how that works, Sawyer."

"I'm afraid that I'll spend the rest of my life looking over my shoulder," I choked. "I've dreamt of running away for so long, that I never planned on actually making it out. Now that I'm here – why does nothing feel different?"

"You wanted the pain and fear to disappear, but it doesn't happen the second you walk out of the door. It will always be there. You'll be doing something. You'll go from laughing one minute to remembering what it was like to live in that house with your parents, and it will hurt, but one day it's not going to hurt the same."

"Then what's the point? What's the point if I can't walk out and feel happy the second I do? Everything was supposed to change, and it hasn't."

"Oh, but it has," she frowned. "Because you woke up in a bed, in a silent house, where no one was out to get you. The glimpses of happiness might be small, but that doesn't mean they aren't there. You've just got to try harder to see them beyond the hurt your feel."

"Thank you," I bit into my lower lip.

She wrapped her arm around my shoulder, tugging me gently into her side. "You didn't make the wrong decision, Sawyer."

"Why does it feel like I did?"

"Because you've lived your life in chaos, and now you're scared of being still."

I wanted to ask her why. None of it made sense. She'd been right, though. I woke up in a bed. Something I've never had. Nobody wanted to hurt me here. I got to sleep, and even if it was for a few hours, it's more than I've ever gotten at Hell House. I also got to shower. As embarrassing as it was to admit, I never got to do much of that either.

"Okay," she grabbed a jug of water from the fridge. "Have this ready in case something goes wrong."

"I'll assume that Fletcher didn't care you almost burnt the dorms down?"

"Actually, he stayed the night," she giggled. "Can you believe that? I thought he'd leave while I was asleep, but he stayed the whole night, and even drove me to class in the morning."

"How long ago did you meet?"

"Freshman year," she flopped a piece of bread into her mixture of milk, eggs, and other ingredients. "Carter introduced us."

"Oh, that's sweet."

"Alright, Sawyer, are you ready for this? I'm going to transfer this into the pan."

I held up my thumbs, encouraging the red-headed girl. She glanced at the gallon of water in my hands, gulping slightly before she turned back to the pan. I dropped my hand to my side, crossing my fingers, so I could pray that nothing bad would happen. I couldn't get kicked out if the house got burnt down, but nobody would forgive me for allowing a woman who clearly couldn't cook a shot in the kitchen.