Senseless

Chapter Seven

  The next few days went by in a strangely calm manner. I thought that Martha would've made my life pure hell since our fight. There hadn't even been a peep since. "About time she learned some boundaries!" I whispered to myself excitedly. 

  Of course it would be difficult to make me regret our fight since I rarely left the house anymore. I knew that time was coming to a close though. At the very least I knew I couldn't afford to miss any more work. It had been over a month now and bills weren't paying themselves. 

  Ms. Avalon had "retired" several years earlier leaving me in charge of the diner. After Emily went missing she insisted on "coming out of retirement" so that I could focus on the search. Even though she insisted that I could take as much time as I needed it was time to get back. I felt it was bordering on taking advantage of the situation.

  Opening up the blinds, cup of orange juice in hand, I had to stop myself from calling Emily. Every morning, while opening the blinds, I'd call up to her and do an impression of the weatherman. When she was little she was convinced that I had superpowers. I almost always seemed to be correct in my predictions, even if they seemed odd. The secret to my success was getting up earlier than she thought I did and catching the news. It had been our routine for so long it wasn't even a thought, it was habit, a tradition. 

  I hadn't opened the blinds since the morning I realized she was missing. Thinking back to that morning was something I did multiple times a day. As was thinking maybe if I had done something differently, I would be listening to her coming down the stairs right now instead of the deafening silence.

  Turning away from the window I sighed heavily. How was I supposed to move past the fact that Emily was dead? How was I supposed to keep living my life without her? Emily was my whole world and the thought that one day there would be a new normal, new habits and traditions, without her was hard to cope with. 

  Making my way to the kitchen I noticed the thin layer of dust that had formed on virtually every surface. I normally kept the house fairly tidy so seeing it like this was humbling. The goal when Emily was growing up was to keep the house clean enough for us to be healthy, yet not so much so that it was sterile. Our home was lived in, cozy, welcoming, not for show.  

  Even so, I could almost hear Emily's voice teasing me, "I would've never gotten away with letting the house look like this Mom." I smiled faintly thinking how the conversation would go.
"I know dusting was my responsibility but geez Mom, I didn't think you hated dusting that much."

  Truth be told I actually did despise dusting. I felt like it was never truly clean. It was just pushing the dust to other, not so noticeable, places. When Emily had gotten old enough to handle a few chores I was more than happy to relinquish the dusting. Now I had to resign myself to the fact that it was mine again. 

  "After breakfast," I mumbled to myself, "I shouldn't dust on an empty stomach."
  After making some toast with jam I decided to sit on the back porch. It was less painful than sitting at the table looking at her empty chair. I had never been without Em for this long before. When did it start getting easier to accept? I felt a pang of guilt at that thought. Losing a child should never be easy, and it had only been a little over a month, so wanting the pain to lesson felt disrespectful to Emily's memory. Sighing, I forced myself to continue eating. 

  As I finished my breakfast, lost in my thoughts, I became aware of the slight chill in the air. Autumn would be here soon, bringing it's own painful challenges. Fall was our favorite season and we lived it up to the fullest potential. Making cider and cocoa, pumpkin patches, hay rides, and our baking marathons were just the start of our annual festivities. 

  We had a checklist that we followed to the letter every year. To keep it from getting stale, we each had to add something every year. I had instilled my love of all things Autumn into Emily, it was the season of magic after all. We had been doing our list since she was two years old. I truly didn't know how I was going to survive this. 

  Trying not to wallow I stood up, stretching, and took in the calm silence that surrounded me. It was beautiful in this town and, even being in my own backyard, I could enjoy nature. It was one of the selling points of coming here, not that I had too many options at seventeen. I was happy that Emily had gotten to spend the time that she had here. 

  I was getting cold, and honestly I was only stalling so I could put off the dusting. Oh well, it had to be done sooner or later. As I bent down to grab my plate and cup I felt the hair on the back of my neck stand up. I was immediately uncomfortable, and I froze into place. Slowly straightening up I felt as if I were being watched. The silence no longer felt calm, the air supercharged with danger. I realized that it truly was silent, I could no longer hear any wildlife. The birds chirping were often more white noise than anything but it was almost as if they didn't exist anymore. I retreated into the house, quickly locking the door behind me. 

  Peering between the slats of the blinds I searched for whatever had triggered my flight response. In the ten years of living in this house I had never gotten that feeling before. I couldn't see anything but I doubted I would anyway. On the two sides of the yard was a wooden fence, only the furthest back side was chain link. The house had about ten feet of clearing between the end of the property and the woods behind it. 

  When replacing the old fencing I had opted to keep the back more visible so we could watch the wildlife. Now it seemed that whatever we had wanted to watch was watching me. I felt silly thinking that I had probably gotten spooked by a family of raccoons, or maybe a stray dog. Stepping away from the window I walked over to the sink, rinsing the crumbs off the plate before placing it and the glass into the dishwasher. Pushing the feelings of discomfort to the back of my mind I grabbed the duster and got to work.