The Second Author

Chapter Five (revised)

I didn't tell Jan or Daisy about what my dad said. I knew they'd encourage me to go home and I'm not sure I'm ready for that.

We spent most of the day clothes shopping. It was fun, I won't lie about that. But, still, a part of me felt guilty. Mainly for going, for thinking it was fun. The feeling got worse with every smile, reminding me of the reasons why I shouldn't.

I picked out a couple of shirts just so I could say I got something. One time, the others felt bad because I didn't find anything I liked. So, to prevent that, I'd just grab a few things and call it good.

Sometimes the things fit, and others, they didn't. And the ones that didn't, I'd just give to Taylor. She'd always find a use for my old stuff. But I can't do that anymore, so I was a little more thoughtful with my picking.

Lunch was good, too. We stopped at a burger joint not far from the mall. We spent about an hour there, eating and talking. I think more talking than eating, though. But thankfully, Jan and Daisy managed to keep the conversation going without me. At that point, I was done with talking and socializing in general.

Jan backed into the driveway. As usual, she and Daisy over did it on the clothes and shoes. I'm not sure where they're putting it all, but eventually some of the clothes would make it to my house.

As she shut off the car, my phone vibrated. I dug it out of my pocket and looked at the screen. It's a text from Dad. I flip the phone open and then read:

Did you get my voice mail, by chance? No pressure.

I press reply and then pause; my fingers hovered over the keys. What am I doing? Am I going home? I finally made it out of there. Yes, I left under horrible circumstances, but that has been my dream for that last four years. Turn eighteen and leave; never look back.

But I'm not eighteen, I'm five months short. What would happen if I stayed? What would happen if I never went back? It's only five more months. I can handle that. Go home and pretend nothing happened. Spend every waking moment avoiding my mother. Yeah, I can do that. Maybe.

I'll be at school most of the day, so I'd only have to see her at dinner. And sometimes I have dinner at a friend's house. So...it's only five months. Right? She can't make me stay any longer than that, not that she'd want to.

I sigh. This is harder than it should be. But then something in my head starts telling me I need to go home. I need to get yelled at and spend every minute afraid of bumping into my mother, because that's what I deserve.

I got my sister killed. I deserve more than five more months in that house. I deserve eternity.

Before I know it, my fingers are moving across the keys, typing a reply:

Yes. I'll be home for dinner.

But if I leave it like that, he'll think he's pressuring me to come back. I sigh again and erase the period at the end, replacing it with a smiley face. Now he'll think I want to go back to prison, I mean, home.

I close my phone and jump out of the car. I head to the back to help unload. Daisy took a few handfuls inside, leaving me and Jan.

"Hey, Jan?"

"Yes, Dear," she replied, as she hunted for the bags' straps.

"I was thinking about going home, tonight."

She stopped and looked at me, no longer her cheery self, but serious. "Are you sure you're ready?"

"Yes," I lie. I can tell she knows it, too.

She stands with arms full of bags. "Okay, then. If you're sure." She looked skeptical, knowing what my mother had told me when I left and how we had to sneak into the house to get my things.