AllFreeNovel
Share Us
If I stay, I die.
Like always, these are my only options; move forward or die.
I tuck my arm in and hold it with my right hand. Lining myself up, I cry and count.
Three.
Two.
One.
I block everything out; all feeling, all worry, all thoughts of pain, even thoughts of Bobby, and I ram the door and land on the floor outside with a solidthump.
Letting out an involuntary cry, I crawl forward on all fours and refuse to flop all the way down.
It takes everything in me to climb to my feet, but not so surprisingly, the filthy floor motivates me like nothing else. No one comes running out at all the noise I make. No Rita with her crazy smirk and dirty knife. No Chris, with his sore arm and nervous nail biting.
I lean against the wall and look around a living space. Broken bay windows line the front wall, furniture and trash litters the dirty tan carpet. Familiarity niggles at the back of my brain, but my dizziness stops me from grasping at the thread and tugging it free. I know this place.
I don’t, but I do.
I glance lazily toward the windows, to the trees and grass covered in a soft dusting of snow. Breathing through my mouth, I shuffle toward the door and sob in relief to find it has no lock at all; the handle has been snapped off and the door creaks with the wind.
My jaw aches from chattering teeth. The wind is painful on my fingers and nose, and I’ve yet to even step outside.
I slowly move through the door and recoil with a whimper as the snow soaks through my stockings.Should’ve kept that one heel.I cross the yard like a dog missing three legs, but whip around and cry out when my brain finally snatches that thread.
I get it now. The picture windows. The rickety doors. The carpet.
This was my dad’s house.
My dad rented it, and when he died, I ended the lease and stopped paying the rent. That was the last of it. The emotional attachment never came, because I didn’t have room in my life for more shit, so I packed everything away, handed in the keys, and walked away. I had bigger things to deal with.
I’m not sure what management are doing, but it’s not managing this house.
I giggle like a school girl at the absurdity that a management team can’t manage. I think I’m crossing that line between sanity and… not. I’m woozy from continued blood loss, and mourning the loss of my boyfriend and brother, though of course, I’m the one that’s lost.
My giggles turn to hiccups, and the hiccups turn to sobs at the pain in my shoulder, but now that I know where I am, a new sense of purpose spurs me forward. I know that the main road is only thirty yards ahead, and the closest neighbor is the same distance, but to my left.
I turn left, because I want to see people. I don’t think I can walk to town. I don’t think I can even walk the thirty yards, but I won’t just lie down in the snow and go to sleep. Not now that I’m so close to freedom.
I trudge and trip through the snow, and every time I fall, I cry and crawl back to my feet. The world around me is completely silent. Everything, everyone, every animal is tucked away in a warm bed, and I’m out here in this shit.
Bitterness rolls over me and momentarily replaces the pain.
I’m so unbelievably cold. So tired and cold. I should be at home in bed. Bobby would never let me hurt or be cold. He’d take care of everything so that I never experience a shiver, and if I was with him, I could cuff our wrists together and we’d never have to be apart again. But somehow, despite all my hard work this year, I was too weak to stop that bitch from hurting me.
If I could just find Bobby, he’d make it all better. No one could get through him.
Or maybe he is home. Maybe he’s tucked up and warm and smiling because I’m a bed hog and now he doesn’t have to share. Maybe he doesn’t care that I’m hurt.
No, that’s not true. He loves me, I know he does. He’s told me no less than six million times this past six months. A millionI Love You’sper month. That’s only twenty or so per minute, every minute, every hour, every day. And on the months with thirty-one days, he’s ahead of the game and can squeeze a few extra in.
No, he’s not home and asleep right now. No doubt my hugger has turned into a grumpy bear that’s tearing the house apart looking for me. I know with my painfully thumping heart that he’s looking for me.
It’s so cold out, I hope he grabbed a coat.
I step across the tiny shrub separating my dad’s property from the neighbor’s, and stumbling along, I think about Bobby running on no sleep. He doesn’t have time to be out in the cold looking for me. He needs to sleep. He needs to rest. He has that fight in a few weeks, and he has training tomorrow. I don’t want to be a bother.
