small brick house. Sams house. I haven't seen him for almost two weeks. What would I say? I jist wanted to see him. So I took a breath and got out of the car. With Micheal at my side I felt somewhat confident. So my false confidence led me into the front door. The door closed behind me and now I could only move forward. The house smelled like plants and it was obvious where it got the smell. Potted plants were literally everywhere. I had walked into a kitchen. Micheal told me to take my shoes off on the Matt which seemed a little stupid because my shoes were spotless since they were a gift from Avery. But I obeyed and slipped them onto a brown welcome mat. Then I walked into one of the neatest kitchens I've ever seen.
It had white tile floors like Micheal but it also had a white overhead fan, a white rectangular fridge, a grey and white countertop with three black chairs and 2 people. The one I recognized immediately. I suddenly felt a sense of warmth and home flood my body as I stared into those bright blue eyes.
Sam's hair had looked just like it did when I last saw him, a tangly mess I top of his head. And of course His bright blue eyes were full of fun. He was wearing a loose sky blue shirt and jeans. He was barefoot. I ran into his arms and stayed like that for around a minute before we pulled away simultaneously. He smiled at me and I returned the smile. His teeth where crystal white. He was at least a half a foot taller than me and scrawny.
"You look different" he said before chuckling. It was true. While we were separated Avery had given me a full makeover to try and make me feel better.
My usually brown and hip length hair was died ink black and cut to about mid back length. She had done my makeup on the car ride here and given me some clothes. I had a vibrant Smokey eye, dark lipstick, and my usually mixed face now looked a bit darker but I kind of liked that part of me. I didn't like being the mixed girl from a white mom and black dad. I wanted to be one or the other like Sam. The girls at my old school made fun of me for being mixed. I had a grey sweatshirt over a loose fitting maroon top and black shoes. She tried to get me in a skirt but I didn't let her. I didn't really feel like dressing up. I didn't feel like anything. Me and Sam were in deep conversation wishing seconds.
"Where have you been" Sam asked as if he didn't know.
"I was with Avery, they took me to this foster house and it's actually really nice. I think I'll like it but I'm also kind of scared." It was easy to talk to Sam. We had a kind of bond that couldn't break. All of those silent nights under the bed or in the closet. All of the lullaby's I sang to him while Momma was fighting with dad. Nothing could stop us.
Eventually we moved to the small living room but we didn't stop talking.
"Who is your foster person"
"His name is too hard to pronounce but he's Russian and if you haven't noticed he is a neat freak. My room has to be cleaned twice a day and I can't have any dirty laundry ever. I have my own laundry machine in my room. I can't visit the kitchen without telling him. It sucks but I think once I warm up to him I might get some priveledges" he scratched his head like he always does and returned the attention to me.
"So I'm guessing you heard about dad." Of course I had. He was a notorious criminal and was getting out of jail for good behavior. We both knew he couldn't change that fast. No man can change that fast. The first thing he would do is try to find us. I was dying inside knowing that he would be out in the same world as us.
"Yeah" was all I said. We were both thinking the same thing. This absolutely created a new level of crappiness to our lives.
We were talking so much we didn't even realize the sun set behind the spotless and decorated in succulent window.
Micheal announced, "Alright Taylor, Let's get going" he said it without kindness and I noticed how stiff and tense he was. He didn't break eye contact with the Russian guy the whole time. I grabbed sams hand and whispered ,
"Were gonna be ok, I promise" I squeezed his hand and he squeezed back. Then I stood up and walked out the door. I was putting my shoes on when the Russian cleared his throat. Micheal was in the other room talking to Sam.
"So you must be Miss Taylor"
I nodded my head and gulped. To my surprise, he laughed and stuck out a hand for me to shake. I took it and returned the smile. His handshake was so strong to the point it hurt. I was glad when Micheal interrupted it.
"Alright Taylor—he cut between the too friendly handshake—time to go" then he opened the door for me and we got into the car.
The car ride home was silent. I wanted to know why he didn't like the Russian. But I felt it wasn't my place to ask. The warmth from Sam presence was gone. I felt cold and empty again. I felt scared and abandoned and this huge wave of emotions. I felt like I was walking a tight rope with and endless abyss below me. I I fell no one would catch me. I had no one. Then Sam popped into my head. Sam would walk me through the tightrope. I had to hold in for him. I was his big sister after all. He needed me and I needed him.
We pulled into the gravel driveway and Micheal just grunted as we walked inside. Once we were inside he finally spoke to me.
"I think imma go ta bed early. Uhhhh you can do whatchu want an' just try to get to bed at a decent time. Yer fist class is at 8 am tomarrow. Wake me up if ya need me.g'night Taylor" then he nodded and headed upstairs and I was left alone. The clock said 8. I was wide awake. I walked up to my room and this time really took in every detail.
The walls were off white, the door was brown with a black doorknob that matched the trim of the door and window. The window had a small padlock on it. This was nothing new. I was on the high risk list. I had a wooden desk and a pretty nice bed with purple fluffy comforter and white sheets. All of my belongings fit into the three drawer bed table but I also had a small closet/hanger rod built into the wall. I sat on the bed and looked at the ceiling. It had s "popcorn" design just like the top of my old room. Back at my real house. The one I shared with Sam.
I stayed up all night thinking about how much I've lost. My dad is in jail. My mom is a druggie. Me and my brother are spectated. I lost my house. I'm a seventeen year old with no family that wants me. I have no one looking out for me. It made me think. What if I never existed. Would anyone's life really be changed. I pulled up my sleeve to reveal years of scars on my biceps. I traced them with my fingers and I felt even more empty and cold. What if I didn't exist anymore. No pain. No suffering. Sam could live a worry free life. He could stop having to worry about me. Avery could get a better job. Micheal could get the strange girl out of his house. I climbed out of bed and stalked into the bathroom.
It was small but it had what I needed. A razor was lying on the porcelain sink. I pounded it against the table until it broke and the blade was left intact. I heard Micheal groan but not wake up. I paused to make sure he was asleep before continuing. I grabbed the razor in one shaky hand and looked in the mirror.
My makeup was smeared and my hair was knotty. My ears were on the verge of tears. I let one slip and it dragged a trail of black mascara with it. Then another. I was ugly and no one loved me. I deserved this. I brought the razor to my skin and stopped. All of the sadness was pounding in my chest and gut. The tears were like waterfalls now but what would Sam think. What would he do if he got a call at 4 in the morning saying his own big sister was dead. He didn't deserve that. It would break him. I had to hold on for him. I just had to. The razor was still in my shaky hands as I wiped tears with the free hand. I let out a rather loud sob and dropped the razor to cover my mouth with my hand. I didn't breathe. I had no idea what time it was but I'm pretty sure Micheal didn't want o be woken up. I slowly crouched down to the floor and picked up the deadly blade with my somewhat steady hand. I stood back up and looked in the mirror again.
I wiped the tears out of my eyes and set the razor down with a shaky hand. I ran the sink and began to wash off the mound of makeup until I was bare faced in the mirror. I looked long and hard at myself. My brown eyes and new black hair. The razor on the sink let one more tear slip. What is Micheal going to think. I friggin broke his razor! I grabbed the razor and tossed it into the empty wastebasket by the sink. I buried it with a wad of toilet paper. I heard micheals bed break and my heart skipped a beat as his footsteps began down the hall.
I foolishly stood still and silent. I heard him open my door. Then he shuffled my bed. I heard him let out a curse word and check my locked window. Then his footsteps came louder down the hall I stepped out, afraid he might call the police.
He sighed in relief. Then ran a hand through his messy hair.
"What're you doin up this late kid, you got school tomorow?" His voice sounded tired and my hypothesis was lroven true when he let out a yawn.
"Uhh s-sorry I h-had to use the restroom" I stuttered like an idiot. He seemed to be too tired to notice my lie.
" you scared me ray" he said before giving a chuckle. I chuckled back and we stood there in awkward silence before he announced he needed some water. I was relieved. I walked back to bed and lied down. A little later I heard him do the same. That night I made a promise.
I promised never to give up. I promised to be strong. I promised to always be there for Sam. I promised that no matter how hard life got I would never end it. All for Sam. I never told him about the self harm but he knew. I remember seeing the look in his eyes when he walked in on a fifteen year old me pressing a pocket knife to my mixed skin. I remember the look on his eyes and how much sadness was crammed into his fourteen year old body. I could never do that to him again. He didn't deserve it. I practically ran to my room.
The door creaked shut behind me. I pulled the covers up to my neck and curled up in a ball just thinking. Thinking empty thoughts. Then I drifted off to a nightmare of sleep.
I was back at the old house with Sam curled up in my arms. We were around 4 and 5. Sam was crying. We were in the old closet and there were gunshots outside. I remembered this night like it was yesterday. I heard screams and all I could do was smile at Sam and pretend everything was gonna be ok. I was only five. I didn't understand that dad had just shot mom in the stomach. I heard thumping footsteps outside of the door. Then the gunshots flew through the door into Sam. The world around me disentigrated to black as I held a screaming bloody Sam. Bullets were now raining down like rain. I scream cried as Sam died in my arms. Then dad cam through the bullet rain with a smile plastered on his stone cold face. He pointed his gun at me and shot. The world stopped. I didn't move. Didn't react. I just held Sam as the bullet plunged into my head. The dream ended and we were now at a funeral. No, I wasn't there. Only a woman was there. A woman with a tight bun and chocolate skin. I remembered this woman. She was the one who brought me and Sam into foster care. She was sobbing loudly. 4 police officers held back another black man in orange clothes. He had a stony expression as did the officers. Then I noticed three coffins on the grey grass. One was all black. One was grey. And one was white. The sizes of the coffins matched the bodies of mom, Sam, and me. This was my funeral. Attended by no one that cares. The next seem faded in and it was me holding Sam. The same scene played multiple times. Dad walked in with a gun and a beer and didn't hesitate to drag me and Sam down the stairs and shoot us. He smiled as he pressed the gun to little sams head and pulled the trigger. I screamed and cried as Sam bled out on the floor. Dad did the Sam to me and then I was in a pool of my own sweat.
Micheal was at my side with a glass of water. It was over. It was just a dream. I took deep breaths. Micheal ribbed mt back. Silent teas steamed down my face but I wiped them away before Micheal could see. This was my life now. Waking up in a cold sweat because I'm too much of a wussy and get scared of dreams. Contemplating suicide. Moving from house to house. My life was nothing to anyone. But my promise still stands. My life is not going anywhere. I looked over at Micheals phone. It read 5am. Oh gosh I must have woke him up. I apologized frantically but he didn't respond. He just looked at me blankly. Then he gave me a warm smile.
"You don't need to apologize for what happened to you 'n Sam. I get it. You guys've been through crap and back only to be put through it again. You take all the time you need"
I was beginning to like Sam. I drank the water and he stayed in my room until I fell asleep around 5:45. I only remember my door creaking shut before everything went dark and I was enveloped in a rare peaceful sleep. Just black and quiet peace. Perfection. That was, perfection until my alarm blared the next morning.
YOU ARE READING
Constant.
Mystery / Thriller**EXERPT** I am seven years old. I feel alone even though Sam is curled into my lap shivering. This is a way to common scene in my house. My mom and her husband are downstairs fighting and I'm holding sam close in my lap. We're on the bathroom floo...
