"Okay." She murmured kissing him on the temple and set about cleaning up the kitchen.
Hunter hated those sessions with a passion. They were meant to help with the nightmares and flashbacks. Ha, that worked out so well. They hadn't gotten any better and they sure as hell hadn't lessened over time. If anything, they were getting worse as the days went by.
His last therapist had said that by going home, being around people that he loved, it would help. Hunter couldn't really say anything about that just yet since he had barely been back for 24 hours. Hopefully what the doc said proved to be true. Only time would tell.
Hunter barely ate most of the food on his plate before his appetite vanished. His stomach was is knots, as it often was when he tried to eat. He couldn't remember the last time he actually finished a whole meal. Dumping his mostly full plate into the trash, he handed the dishes to his mother. She took them silently in one hand and shooed him out of the kitchen with the other.
Trudging down the hall he didn't bother looking at the frames lining the walls. They never changed anyway. Well, that wasn't entirely true, his mother would add a new frame twice a year. One for their annual family photo and one for their Christmas photo. Obviously Hunter wouldn't be in any of them from the past couple of years.
Once Hunter reached his room, he closed and locked the door behind him. Resting his forehead against the cool, smooth wood, he sighed. He really, really did not want to be home, in this house. A house he had only set foot in twice since he had left for college. A house that held memories he was better off forgetting.
Since coming home less than 24 hours ago, Hunter hadn't set foot in his room. His duffel with everything he brought back was still in his truck. He didn't want to turn around. Didn't want to see what had changed since he was gone and what hadn't. Would there still be pictures taped to the wall length mirror next to his closet? Would there still be clothes, throw haphazardly around the room? Would the same creme colored sheets cover the bed along with the patchwork quilt his late grandmother had made for him?
With closed eyes Hunter turned around, leaning his back against the door.
Just open your eyes. He thought. Just do it!
Slowly, so slowly, Hunter opened his eyes. The first thing he noticed as he looked around was the fact that the room was clean. There were no clothes scattered here and there. The bed wasn't unmade. Not a speck of dust any where that he could see. Looked like his mother had cleaned up after he left and dusted often.
Making his way over to the bed, Hunter sat with a sigh. It felt strange being back in his old bedroom, uncomfortable even. This room held so many memories. Many of which were taped to his mirror.
Memories of a life that wasn't his anymore.
So many pictures were taped along the outer edges of the mirror. Most of which were of him, Celeste, Nate, Jay and the twins. Snapshots of them throughout the years. Taken back when he was a carefree guy without a care in the world. Happier times.
But there was one, in the upper right corner.
The original.
He kept a copy of that picture with him always.
Pulling his wallet out of his back pocket, Hunter opened it and stared at the picture nestled inside. It was faded and worn from the many times he had taken it out while he was away.
Anytime he felt homesick while he was overseas, he took out that picture.
Anytime he felt as if he couldn't possibly make it another day, he took out that picture.
Just Lay Off
Start from the beginning
