BEAU (original version)| ✓

59

• CHAPTER FIFTY-NINE•
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"What if we get caught?" Kendra whispers.

"We won't."

"Beau, this is a bad idea."

"Just go along with it. Stay behind me."

The front door creaks open on its hinges, the cool air stagnant and the sound of our breathing amplified by the lack of motion around us. I feel Kendra's fingers slip in-between mine and clasp my hand tightly. My heart pounds against my ribcage, blood rushes to my ears.

"It's so creepy when there's nobody living here," I speak in a low voice, careful not to alert any neighbours that might still be awake. Sneaking into my old house is easier than I anticipated because it seems nobody locked the door. When we first arrived, there had been a For Sale sign on the front lawn, but as we walk inside and let the door close behind us, I see nothing has really changed.

It resembles an image frozen in time. I can visualize every single person, every event that took place. Looking at the grey cough, it's almost as though Ethan materializes and holds a beer in his right hand while the other brings a cigarette to his lips. I see mom in the kitchen entrance, her face bruised like always. Shifting toward the staircase, Marc runs down the steps, eager to tell her something about school.

And I just stand here, watching it play like an old movie. To think everything went to shit only months ago. What was the last thing I said to mom? When did I do the last time in my room? In hindsight, I can't answer.

"Beau, are you okay?" Kendra's brittle voice registers in my ears, and she gently squeezes my hand as I take a step forward. "We don't have to stay. We can go back to my house."

"No, I have to see this place one last time," I inform her, swallowing the fear rising into my throat. My palms begin to perspire and cold sweat forms at my hairline. "Let's go upstairs."

Without protesting, Kendra follows behind me as we cautiously tread to the staircase, as if mom might pop out of these walls at any moment. The stairs groan under our weight but we press on, and I pretend to be unaffected by the familiarity of this place. It's like reliving things outside of how they were; an out-of-body experience. The number of times I've walked through this very hallway caught sneaking in by mom, caught helping Marc by Ethan, or just passing through like a ghost.

"Do you think your stuff is still here?" Kendra asks in a hushed tone. "Or did they throw it out?"

I keep my eyes straight ahead. "I think it's all here."

For reasons unknown, pressure builds in my chest and interrupts the steady influx of blood to the rest of my body.

She says nothing else. When we arrive at my bedroom door, we hold our breaths. I quickly look to her for some reassurance that all this is in the past. There isn't much she can assure me though. She's never lived a day in these walls or under this roof.

"I just want some of my old sketchbooks and paintings. They can burn the rest, I don't care."

"Beau—"

Giving her no warning, I barge inside my old bedroom. What my eyes see is overwhelming—nothing has changed. The bed is unmade as I left it months ago, the window is cracked open, and on my desk lies my open sketchbook, Eliot's face half-complete. Its almost as though I'm revisiting a ghost town. The stillness, the scent, so eerie how it appears that any moment, life will continue as it once did.

"It's all here," I inhale a ragged breath and scurry toward my sketchbook, flipping the pages as my eyes begin to burn painfully. "Every single thing I left. I can't believe it. Nobody touched it and it's been so long."