Jizzie | Hand on Heart

Chapter 23 | Coming Home?

Maddie had lost her pole off a ski lift, so we'd been searching for hours, and dad ended up giving her his.

But without his ski pole, he kept falling over, and when Maddie laughed he dumped snow down her jacket.

We'd ended up in a snowball fight on the side of the mountain, laughing and freezing cold.

My dad meant his phone on a snow drift, and snapped a photo of us all together.

Then when we got back to the resort, Mum had spent hours fretting that our ski coats wouldn't dry, which they didn't, do we had to forgo skiing the next day and spent it in the pool instead.

"Lizzie." Jessie counters gently, placing her hand on my shoulder.

I smile at her sadly, "I'm okay."

Jessie still looks concerned, but doesn't press me any further.

I put the photo into my bag, before grabbing a few of our other possessions.

In an attempt to start our new life, we hadn't taken many personal items.

After I had gotten everything I needed, I went upstairs, to my bedroom.

I hadn't taken much of anything from my room.

My photo wall was still intact, and my eye catches all the pictures of Charlotte.

I don't break my resolve to not cry, but I do come close, looking at those pictures.

I spend the next hour pulling down all the photos, grabbing old possessions and packing them into my bag.

I was stronger now then I was then.

Jessie sits down on my bed.

"Where is your dads office?" She says, looking around my room.

"Down the hall." I sit beside her, needing a second before I dared to go in there.

"This is it then."

I nod, and look at her, "thank you for coming with me."

She smiles, "I'm invested in this now, you aren't getting rid of me."

I laugh, and my eyes wander round the room.

So many memories.

"Okay, I'm ready."

Jessie stands up, extending her hand to me, "I won't leave you okay, I'm here for you."

I nod in gratitude, my throat feeling dry as we walk down the corridor.

My hand falters as I reach for the door.

"We get the book, in and out." Jessie confirms with me.

I stare at the dark wood door, it's gold embellishments soft and welcoming.

Without going in I know exactly what it will look like.

My dads old style desk in the middle of the room, cluttered with papers and files with the big wooden chair behind it.

The large window will filter the golden light in, which bounces off the shiny floors and onto the rows and rows of bookcases, containing traditional books that dated back to before the revolution.

Then there would be the modern books, which was what we needed.

I finally work up the courage and open the door quickly, not giving myself any option to hesitate any further.

My feet hit the red rug and I freeze.

My gaze immediately goes to the desk as it takes over a large part of the room.

Though the desk was not what was of interest to me.

The blinding early morning light beams through the window, and I almost have to shield my gaze, but my own shock and terror leaves me frozen.

My sudden stop causes Jessie to crash into me, but I ignore her string of colourful curse words as the figure in the chair stands up.

The light doesn't allow me to make out any recognisable features, as I squint.

What the hell

They walk forward, around the desk to stand in front of me.

Despite the years, I know exactly who it is, but instead of the relief I wished I was feeling, I'm subdued to silence out of pure fear.

The figure straightens up, and looks me dead in the eye.

Finally I regain my voice, and I try and sound confident as my voice wavers.

"Dad."