Innocence

One

The 16th of December was a blur. Screaming in the kitchen, police sirens echoing in the distance. My fathers hands perfectly entangled around my mothers neck. Then my own hands, pounding at his back begging him to let her breathe. Men in black suits and handguns bursting through the door, yelling over my cries for help. A thud and gasping, my mother falling to the ground as my father releases his grip. One cop holds him down while the rest circle around. They lead the lashing monster out of our old cracked door and take him away forever. That was the last time I saw my father.

After that my mother rarely ever spoke to me, I was always left alone with my thoughts lingering in my head, begging for an outlet. At that time I had no one. I had no friends at school and came home to a mother that was never home and constantly working. I can't blame her for what happened, but I do blame her for the nights I spent alone crying myself into unconsciousness. I blame her for not being here for me. I blame her for not acting how a mother should.

Over half a year later my mother had had enough of that apartment and the memories it held. The house rotted of disappointment and pain. So one day she told me to pack my bags, that we were moving Missoula, Montana. I didn't ask questions, I didn't hesitate. I just packed. I was grateful in that moment for what my mom had gave me, a fresh start. We were to live with her high school best friend near the mountains on a large plot of land. I'm happy to be getting away from New York City, and our grotesque worn down apartment. There are too many grey faced people and tall pointless buildings.

I awake myself from deep thought and focus on the mountains in the distance as my mother drives us to our new life. The past can't follow us from a thousand miles away. I left my heartache in the city, where I will never go back. I will never let those memories haunt me again. This is my chance to start over. I put my hand out of the passenger side window and let the cool wind interlace between my fingers, in and out and then to nothingness.

—

After a few more hours of driving, the sun starts to set and the car starts to shift back and forth as we go down an uneven dirt road. Trees sprout up in all directions and all there is land and beautiful mountains as far as the eye can see. At the end of the road sits a two story log cabin with a bold red door.

"We are here." My mom squeals excitedly. I know she's really happy about the move, probably more than I am. She parks and we start to unload a few boxes. A woman my mothers age comes out of the big house to greet us. Her hair is auburn and she is petite and pale, almost the same body type as my mother.

"Oh Sarah, it's so good to see you." The woman brings my mother into a tight embrace. Then she grabs my hand and holds it in place, "You must be Jade. It's so good to meet you. My name is Helen." Her eyes are warm and welcoming, a soft brown color. I can see the sunset behind me shining and reflecting in her eyes. I smile at her and she let's go of my hand. "You can bring some boxes inside, my son will show you to your room."

I grab as many boxes as I can carry, one stacked on top of the other, and head towards the door. The boxes start getting too heavy on my hands and I tighten my grip. I probably grabbed too many than I am strong enough to carry. When I step inside the light surrounding encases me like a blanket. The interior is beautiful, I walk straight into a big living room with a flat screen TV and leather couches. The house is all shiny laminated wood. Living in this house is going to take some getting used to. My old jacked up apartment is the only home I ever knew, the haunting space I grew up in.

The boxes I'm holding become too much to carry and as they go down I go down with them. In a split second I face-plant into wood, yelping in pain.

I hear a musical sound and look up at the staircase on my right and see a boy that looks my age throwing his head back in laughter, the roof of his mouth exposed. That must be Helens son. I'm suddenly embarrassed and scramble back to my feet. The boy has golden brown hair that had made a curly mess on his head, and smile from ear to ear.  He thumps down the stairs and starts putting everything that fell out of the boxes back in with a stupid smile smeared across his face, obviously still amused.