The first snow of winter... it was soft and coming down fast, covering every ounce of surface. I stared out the large windows, watching the snowflakes fall on the window seal and the sunlight become brighter; not exactly exciting when you watch the first snow storm form from a hospital bed- but it's better than being six feet under or eaten by dogs.
The chill in the air was oddly cozy, along with the horrible and silly sense of humor Aunt Joyce has when she brought me the very old stuffy unicorn I would carry around when I were a kid. Dad brought me this- well, actually won- the stuffed unicorn at the annual carnival near our house, two years before the 'accident'.
Aunt Joyce pranced the stuffed mystical animal around as if it were a puppet show. "Awe I think Mrs. Pinky here..."
I laughed and shook my head, "I'm not seven. Where did you find her anyway?"
She smiled bright while tugging on her chewed off and sewed back on ear. "I was looking through the attic and found your childhood box, saw many things that brought me back to my younger years." Reaching into her back pocket, Aunt Joyce pulled out an old crisp moment photo of the parents in their college years- including the officer before dropping out of school. "Back when Afros were very cool and hipster."
It was still oily in between my fingertips, rugged, with a tan hue to show its old age. Mr and Mrs. Holmes- college sweethearts who ran off and got married after graduation, had a kid five years later after grad school and brought their first home in the middle of Seattle. They were posed in front of dad's old corvette that was designed in the eighties, obviously before he was diagnosed with bipolar depression.
"Do you think dad was going to crack either way?"
She stopped prancing the stuffed animal around on the bed, her eyes were still on the itchy sheets while thinking of a reasonable answer. "We won't know, Zaire. It's best not to wrap your mind around that."
"Zaire... Joyce." Sheriff Watson popped his head in. You can say we have our personal round the clock security for a while, just two cops standing in front of the door dosing the same thing that they've done in the station (nothing). "You have a visitor, the name of Ember Jackson."
Aunt Joyce nod her head, signaling the sheriff that this woman could walk in. The woman wore a business suit, head held high as her blue eyes scanned the room- specifically me. They were intense, burning ice that screamed- 'don't fuck with me, I'm a lawyer!'. "Ms. Jackson, thank you for meeting us here and giving us more time."
Ms. Ember stepped closer- cautious and alert- while looking at the monitor and my battle scars. "What happened?" She ignored Aunt Joyce kind greeting as if my caregiver didn't exist. "If you don't mind me asking,"
"I was thrown through glass by a psycho serial killer." I answered truthfully with a small smile and bright eyes. At first the lawyer thought it was a joke and chuckled lightly but seeing Aunt Joyce serious features and Sheriff Watson thin frown, she realized it was the hard truth to my world.
"Oh, wow. This would have to be reported back to the office. With your life in danger, we would have to put a co-signed on the documents."
"Co-signer?" Aunt Joyce questioned while taking a seat once again.
Ember opened the thick file of documents and set it on the table hanging over my lap. "Just incase the first party can no longer handle the insurance money, the co-signed would receive everything, including the first party's life insurance."
The caregiver was a little taken back from the amount of zeros going through her head, even I was choked up on the amount of cash one of us would get if we croaked. "Don't get any bright ideas." I comment with a light chuckle to loosen up the room. "Where do I sign?"
"First we must discuss what your parents left you... um, can we get some privacy." Ember didn't bother to look over her shoulder when talking to Sheriff Watson, her elegance and high status of Princeton was showing- which made me highly confused on why she ended up being a insurance lawyer- usually this job is for the old people. Sheriff Watson did not hesitate in leaving, he too was picturing the zeros and did not want to be depressed on how much a eighteen year old kid would get without working a day of her life- he even closed the heavy door and stood outside the window with the other officer that was sparking down a pizza. "Now," The lawyer started to say. "After taxes, your parents life insurance money came up to third quarter of a million, adding to trust fund they left you- that'll come up to seven hundred and fifty-seven thousand dollars. Of course they included the condo in Seattle..."
"Wait, condo?" This time I was confused. "We had a house, not a condo."
Ember brows raised as she flipped through her own copy of the file. "No, it says condo. It was under your father's name, he brought it six months before the 'accident'. Along with the Mercedes that's in storage, all paid off. Oh! and this note was included in the package." She reached into her expensive purse to take out a neat white envelope with my dad's horrible cursive hand writing.
It didn't weight heavy on my shoulders like the one Greg gave me, but it still held that depressing, lump in the throat effect that made me want to throw up and cry. I stuffed it in between my arm and bed to read it later when I have privacy. Aunt Joyce grabbed my hand in comfort, it wasn't going to be pretty signing off on my parent money, another hard truth that I try to push away, the reality of my parents are truly gone and left everything they have. I grabbed the fancy pen from Ember's hand and hovered over the freshly printed documents. Our names were written in cursive and hard print on every other page, the action was incredible hard to do; especially when the hold that my parents had on me- to make me remember who I am and why I'm here- is gone.
***
Aunt Joyce sighed heavily when parking the the squad car in front of the old motel near the highway, it was the only motel that had good service and cheap rooms; also it was closer to the police station just in case. Sheriff Watson and Gabriel parked beside us, the old pick up truck towered over us like a tower and the smell of carbon filled our lungs. "I'm going to check in, stay here." She said before jumping out of the warm car and into the blizzard.
The snow was coming down harder, I could barely see past the hood of the car- or even the neon 'open' sign hanging from the office window. While everyone was busy, I reached into my pocket to finally open the note- the one I did not get a chance to at the hospital, considering my room was patrolled by Gabriel, Aunt Joyce it even Sheriff Watson- 24/7, no privacy.
It was slow- me carefully opening the envelope and waiting for whatever surprise my dad left for me. I had many conclusions on what he wrote and why? Did he plan to... Don't think that, he's your father- no matter how screwed up he is, dad loved mom. Still, I couldn't help but think the worse as I unfolded the paper to read the message.
Zaire, it's never a day I didn't think about you or your mother when I have my episodes. The torture I put you both through during the years since I've been diagnosed, and the numerous of times when I put you both in danger. Never forget that I love you both, this is why I'm taking my life, I just hope it didn't ruin you as much as I think. I love you, always and forever.
I crumbled the paper as if it were tissue and rolled down the window to throw it out. Taking in the freezing temperatures and snow hitting my face, my throat swelled up as the sorrow formed in my gut. Don't cry...please don't cry.
"Zaire, roll up the window. It's freezing out here." Sheriff Watson kneeled over to give me that obviously observation. The snow hits his face from different angles, causing his skin to turn red and pale. "Is everything alright?"
I nod my head yes, the terrible lie of course being that I was crying. "Fine. Perfect."
Obviously he wasn't convinced but it doesn't matter now. "Well, your aunt has a room so Gabriel and I are going to unload the car. How about you go inside? Don't forget to roll up the window." He tapped the hood of the car before walking towards the trunk where Gabriel was waiting. I don't know if Gabriel and I were on good terms, we haven't spoken directly at one another in quite sometime.
The motel room was decent, a two full bed room with an old tv and shabby carpet to match. I sat on the edge of the bed near the bathroom that smelt of flowers and bleach, the bed creaked under my weight and movements when I took off my thick coat.
"It's not much." Aunt Joyce walked in while jiggling the keys and eyeing the old furniture. "But it's cheap and close to town, so that's that." She too flopped down on the edge of the bed near the door and frowned at the State we were push to- which is out of our own home. "It's only temporary, until the window is fixed."
"Dad planned on killing himself." Not a good way to lay it on the table, but it seemed like the best way before things became easier. "It gotten that bad where he was going to commit suicide, that's why he brought the condo- to do it in peace and alone. Apparently that night of the accident, he went to the deep end and mom didn't know how to get him out."
"How did you find out? The note? I knew I shouldn't have let you read that..."
"You couldn't protect me forever, I was going to find out sooner or later. While I was reading that note, I couldn't stop thinking why mom didn't give him the help he needed." I wiped the tears from my face before looking up, the horrors face of a very sad person. I looked away immediately by staring at Aunt Joyce for answers, I knew she didn't have them, she spent a quarter of her life in this small town while trying to get away from the family- but how did that help her? She was the same ole Aunt Joyce I knew, nothing changed.
Her lips taped open to speak, but no words came out as the motel door opened to show the sheriff and his son taking shelter from the blizzard. "Thank you guys," She immediately put on a fake smile to hide the distress.
"No problem," Sheriff Watson didn't need to see our puffy eyes or the tears to know they walked in on a very emotional moment, it was in the air, making our skin crawl and chest cave in. "Gabriel and I are going to head home now, call us if you need anything."
Aunt Joyce nod her head in response, while I tried to gain a look from Gabriel. He was stubborn as a rock in water; unmoving and unbothered by my pleading eyes that just want one glimpse of acknowledgement. Please Gabriel, don't do this now.... The two walked out while Aunt Joyce closed and locked the door behind them, the room turned dead silent and uncomfortable as our conversation was hanging in the air, but neither one of us took it down.
The night was dreadful, the room dark and snow still falling, the window was half buried in the white fluffy crystals. I couldn't sleep, especially when that psychopath is still out there, sharpening his tools and making another plot to kill and torture.
I do have to say it was beautiful outside, the ground covered in inches of snow, the sky dark, and the dim lighting made everything glow yellow. Winter wasn't my favorite season, but it's the most memorable. My lips tugged into a very small smile, my mind hasn't gone through the process to fake a big one nor did the blizzard change my mood. I was still scared for my life, and highly annoyed with the unanswered questions Aunt Joyce keeps throwing my way.
"Zaire?" Speaking of, Aunt Joyce turned on the lamp in between the bed and sat up to only greet me with crusty eyes and a questionable gaze. "Why are you up?"
"Can't sleep," It was obvious, wasn't it? I slipped away from the window seal and crawled back into bed, I guess I'll be staring at the eggnog colored wall. "I'm going to the condo in two days, I need to see it myself before you force me to sell."
"I can't stop you, but just know it's nothing worse than going back to the past. Especially when it was made to hurt you." It was quite poetic, but also true.