acceptance is the first step.
and accepting the facts is never easy.
My mind does not stop running as I stand over my bed looking at the contents of my, now empty, closet as I debate my next step. My entire body shakes as I let out harsh and precarious breaths, my hand tracing over the aching blemish on my cheek. My attempt of covering it failing as I know the purple still bleeds through the abundant layers of foundation.
I am sure for most people it is hard to imagine that leaving someone so virulent would be such a difficult task, but it truly is. I have spent the last five years of my life with this man, allowing him to be my only source of stability. I moved myself over 300 miles away from the only place i ever called home. My world, as sad as it may be, revolves around him and the life we created together. The small routine we found ourselves in after all these years. My heart aches slightly at the thought of not waking up next to him, or seeing the goofy smile etch across his face when we have laughing fits together. Even though his rage scares me to no end, the love i have for him is as deep as it was before we began this treacherous nightmare.
With a sigh I proceed to gather my clothes and stuff them into the large blue duffel bag I have sitting at the edge of my bed. I pack only the essentials, not caring to bring the expensive gowns, and bags that jasper splurged on in attempts to make up for his actions.
Currently he is out at work and will not be due home until around ten or eleven, depending on if he goes for drinks with his friends, which he usually does. The time is currently 6:45 giving me three to four hours to get my things together and find a way out of here. Which will prove to be a difficult task considering I have no one outside of him. My mother has never been apart of my life and my father passed away a few month into my senior year of high school. The only other people I ever really had in my life was my old best friend and his grandmother, Missy, to be more specific. However i have not talked to them in nearly four years. Her number is probably not the same as it was..
My eyes wonder over to my phone that sits alone on the nightstand that is on my side of the bed. For a moment I contemplate it, how this could possibly turn out. But what would I say? She has not heard from me for years, and she was not fond of Jasper to begin with.
However, it may turn out better than I expect and to be completely honest she may be my only hope. I chew on my lip for a moment, my head bouncing around the different scenarios. My heart begins to throb against my chest, so loudly I swear I can hear it over the faint chirping of birds outside.
Before I can talk myself out of it I walk over to grab my phone, my hand trembling violently as I do so. It takes me a moment to unlock it and scroll down to her contact. The only number that sits in the M section. Slowly, my thumb hovers over the green button that allows me to dial her. It rings for a moment, a few moments too long that I fear I made a mistake, but before I can even think to hang up a light voice picks up on the other end of the line.
"Veronica..?" her questioning tone laced with concern and curiosity.
"Yeah... it is me" I choke out as strangled sobs finally break from my mouth as the sound of her voice hits me. It makes me feel less alone. My heart begins to swell with unbearable emotion as the calls falls silent, the only sounds coming from my heavy breathing.
"Oh, Veronica" she cries out
"I need to come home..."
______
Richmond Va
It's been five and a half years since I last stepped foot in this town. The growing city almost unrecognizable as it's decorated with new stores and restaurants. People of all ages walk in both directions down the sidewalk, most of them wrapped in conversations either on the other end of their phones, or with someone standing next to them. My eyes take in every new additions to my hometown as the cab slowly makes its way to Missy's single family home that sits about 5 miles outside the busiest part of town.
It doesn't take long before her White House with bright red shutters is in sight, causing my heart rate to increase even more. I swallow harshly as the taxi driver stops diagonally at the end of her short driveway.
"Is this the right place?" He asks pointedly, his voice low and gruff almost as if he has a handful of gravel stuck in his throat.
I blink a few times, the question taking a moment too long to process.
"Uh yeah" I say as I blink a few times to snap myself together. I quickly fling off my seat belt, and grab my small purse and duffle bag from beside me. I reach into my bag to grab two 20s for the middle aged man, and hand it to him as I mutter a quick "keep the change" before existing through the back passenger side door.
As the taxi pulls off I'm left standing there, bewildered. My chest tight as I stare at the old oak door that sits perfectly in the middle of the home. My legs shaking as I will myself to take a few steps forward.
So many thoughts cloud my eager mind as I stand there and stare at the once all too familiar house. Vague memories of birthdays shared with me and my old best friend. The awkward growing pains we both experienced together. The sad look on his face when I told him I was moving away to go to school. How he begged me to come to LA with him and his band. How we fought for days about it, and finally agreed to call and text each other everyday. A deal we kept up with for a few months, until I met Jasper.
I push the memories back as I feel a warm tear slide down my face, I wipe it away gently trying not to smear the layers of foundation that paints my face thickly.I force my legs to move slowly up the 10 foot long driveway, I can't stand out here forever and take a one way ticket down memory lane.
I take the two steps up that lead me to the small concrete porch that sits attached to the home. The small covering that shields the patio has a few small holes in it, allowing some warm sunlight to bleed through. To the left sits the same old porch swing from my youth. The amount of splinters I used to get in my ass from that thing almost embarrassing, the thought bringing a small smile to my face.
Slowly I step forward in front of the door. The darkly painted oak slightly peeling from the years of ware. I bring my left hand up in a small fist, and give the door a light knock. I can hear light shuffling from the opposite end, the commotion making my already pounding heart beat faster. Anticipation hugs the atmosphere around me like a thick hot blanket as I wait to see one of two all too familiar faces. I don't know who is going to open the door. Last I knew of anything Missy was living mostly alone while Noah did his thing most of the months out of the year.
I hear the old wood moan as it quickly swings open in one motion.
"Oh my beautiful little Butterfly is finally home" missy coos as her voice cracks ever so slightly.
She looks exactly as I remember, aside from her once chine length curly blonde hair now falling to mid back. Her sweet green eyes encased in a light dusting of black mascara. Her white teeth still perfect and on full display as her lips twitch into a large smile. Her arms are thrown up in the air, as she brings me in for a tight embrace. I let out a sigh of relief, feeling content for the first time in what feels like forever as I lap up her affection.
"It's so good to see you Missy" I say just above a whisper as she lets go of me and steps back.
"You too, Doll. Now come on in! Don't be a stranger now" she teases as she moves over slightly to open up a path for me to walk through.
I offer her a small smile as I take a step in, my two bags In tote. I hear her quietly shut the door behind me, as I take the small hallway to the kitchen that's attached at the end of it. Everything is still set up just as I remember. Her small kitchen is decorated very minimally. A few painted pictures of large flower fields hanging on the olive green walls. Small cookie jars in the shape of different domesticated animals sit neatly on her white countertop. A few old family photos are placed perfectly on her venerable hutch. Pictures of her with her grandkids and late husband decorate the small space, causing a smile to tug at my lips as I scan over them. My eyes stop on one picture in particular, I swallow harshly at the sight.
I see myself, age 16. My hair dyed dark blue from root to tip hanging down my back. My arms are wrapped around my old friends neck as he holds me up on his back. His naturally wavy hair pin straight, his slim body sporting an old cut off Atreyu shirt and cargo shorts. Wide toothy smiles spread across our pubescent faces. I remember the day clearly, it was a few days before sophomore homecoming. We decided to skip it after my then boyfriend was caught locking lips with some random girl from another school. I was unbelievably heartbroken over the whole ordeal, my teenage emotions running haywire. This was the first time I actually smiled a real smile in a few days, my best friend always knowing how to cheer me up.
I quickly look away from the framed photo and take a seat at the table adjacent from the hutch as I hear Missy walk down the hall and enter the room. I place my bags on the floor next to my feet, careful to keep them out of the way so no one trips over them.
"Would you like some tea, honey?" Missy asks sweetly as she walks over the grab her small kettle from the drying wrack next to her sink.
"Yes please" I hum back.
She fills up the silver canister and places it on the stovetop. She grabs two small blue teacups from the cupboard just above the stove as the kettles begins to whistle.
She gets our tea ready, remembering how I took mine and comes over slowly.
I mutter a small thank you as she places the cup down in front of me, and takes the seat to my left. A slightly awkward silence falling over us as we both take small sips from our piping hot beverages.
"He hits you, doesn't he?" Missy inquires abruptly. Her words cause me to choke on my drink, an audible cough falling from my lips.
"W-what do you mean" I stammer over my words as I bring a hand up to scratch the nape of my neck.
She looks at me, not saying a word. Her forest eyes scanning my face as her eyebrows raises slightly.
"Don't even try to deny it, Honey. I can see the bruise across your cheek" her words laced with disgust as she calls me out.
I swallow harshly as I make eye contact, the simple interaction making me feel small. My cheeks heating up in embarrassment.
"I don't know what to say.." I offer with a sad smile. She brings her hand up to cover my own that sits on the table top, using her thumbs to trace comforting circles across my knuckles.
"You don't have to say anything, not until you're ready" she assures as she looks me in the eyes, a slight twinkle caressing her waterline. I offer a small grin, thankful for her understanding.
"So.. is Noah home yet?" I ask to change the subject. Instant regret filling my body as soon as his name falls off my tongue.
"Well he just got done touring yesterday. He's supposed to come stay with me for a little while his new house is getting renovated. I think he should be here tomorrow or Monday" she says before picking up her cup and taking a small sip.
It's been five years since I last saw my old best friend, and four years since I last spoke to him. After I went off to college and him and his friends went off to LA we talked nonstop for the first three months. They started recording a real album just as quickly as i got assigned homework. He was making big moves for himself and I was doing the same. Although we were on opposite sides of the country with a three hour time difference to complicate it, we still managed to stay as close as ever. He would wake up at four in the morning to talk to me before my 7 am classes and I would call him every time I had a break between them. There wasn't a single night we went to bed without at least calling each other for a few minutes. It was like that for a while, then jasper came along. He seemed okay with our relationship at first, but his obvious discomfort grew the longer we were together. At first I tried to understand, even though the relationship between Noah and I never once pasted platonic, I figured I'd feel the same if the shoe were on the other foot. However, it was made clear after seven months of dating that he did not want me to interact with Noah much if at all. Being the naive and ready to please person I was all too willing to bow down to the requests of my first true love. Noah's calls were ignored, along with unopened messages and voicemails. He got the hint after I ghosted him for two weeks. And I never spoke with him again.
I would secretly keep up with him, though. I saw that they started touring about a year after arriving in LA and releasing an actual album. All his dreams coming true, making my heart swell for the one person I knew who deserved it the most.
"Does he know I'm here?" I ask bashfully as I take another swig from my hot tea.
"No. Not yet" is all she offers, clear discomfort and apprehension lacing her words. I'm not sure what all she knows about what happened between us, but considering how close her and Noah have always been it's safe to assume she knows the most of it.
"If it would make things easier I can get a room for a while. I have enough cash on me to stay for a week. I just don't want to ruffle any- " I begin to ramble as the feeling of regret seeps into my bones, causing a vile pain to erupt in the pit of my stomach. Missy cuts me off before I can finish my thought with a stern "no" causing my mouth to clasp shut.
"You are family. Regardless of whatever happened. I won't turn my back on you when you need someone" her words invoke an ache in my chest as a few small tears pool at my waterline. I'm not sure what I did to deserve her kindness. Knowing the woman missy is, she would give the shirt off her back to someone in need so I can't be too stunned at her generosity. Nonetheless, it feels good to know I'm safe and sound with her.
"Now, I need to get the guest room set up for ya, so you can sleep in Noah's room for the night since he isn't back yet" she says
I blink a few times, that nervous feeling fighting to come back, but I force it down and just nod with a gracious smile.
We finish our tea as we sit and chat for a while. I fill her in on the small details of my mundane life, as she does the same. We exchange a few good laughs and before we knew it the clock struck 1am. Almost as if on cue a deep yawn slips from Missy's lips.
"Well Dear, I'm exhausted and it's well past my bed time. I'm gonna hit the bed. You remember where Noah's room is, right?" She finishes her statement with a question, as I offer her a nod yes as my answer. She gives me a small peck on the top of my head before walking her cup to the sink, and taking herself to her room for some rest.
I finish my tea quickly, repeating her actions of putting my cup away before grabbing my duffel bag and purse and heading down the hall to the staircase. It's exactly 17 steps from downstairs to the second level. I figured that out one summer when Noah and I had nothing better to do than race up and down the stairs.
Just as I remembered, his room still sits at the very end of the upstairs hall. The small sounds of the beige carpet crunching under my shoes is the only sound in the otherwise silent house.
Upon opening his door I'm met with the vague essence of vanilla and musk, the ever so slight scent of cigarette smoke laced between the two. It looks almost the same as it did before. Aside from a few band posters missing from his deep purple painted walls. If you didn't know what color the once white walls were, it was because every inch of them used to be covered in random magazine cutouts and doodles etched on printer paper. His full size bed clad in a black sheets set, a royal blue comforter placed neatly across the mattress.
I set down my bag beside his small computer desk, opening it to receive my oversized shirt that I packed to sleep in. After changing into it I slowly walk over to the bed. I allow my body to cautiously crawl up to the pillows and slip under the warmth of the thick blanket, my head falling back on the fluffy pillows that lay in a neat stack. Noah's scent is all over every inch of his bed, making me smile ever so slightly, but also causing my chest to tighten with an unbearable sadness.
For the first time in years I feel relaxed, the intoxicating lingering aroma of Noah comforting me in a way I almost forgot about. It's almost as if he's laying there next to me, his arms tucked under either side of his head, his legs crossed at the ankles like he always used to lay.
I think back on a few fond memories I forgot about until today. My eyes close to help my mind conjure up the mental images, and before I knew it I was able to drift into a deep sleep.
——
I hope you enjoyed the first official chapter.
This book is loosely based around the bad omens song "glass houses" obviously. It's a concept that came to me whilst listening to said song, and I had to write it.
-xx J