Familiarity

Chapter Twenty-Four

hey, sorry i took so long to post. this time i did take two weeks, but fear not, i already have another chapter finished and another that is almost done!! i will post those ASAP, but I've been absolutely slammed with school work, and since finals are soon and i need to make sure i pass, i cannot promise i will post chap 25 tomorrow. most likely on Saturday or next week at the latest.

to be honest tho, i rlly hate editing this shit, which is why i didn't do this yesterday. sorry. sorry. sorry again.

enjoy?? i guess??

--

Meeting with Agawa was no different than it had been: you struggled to speak, and when you did, you were shy with the details, the complete truths. You said you had argued with a friend and told her the important points—what it was about, the things you said, how you felt.

And you felt guilty. You felt even more guilty when you realized just how easily the feeling took over your nervous system, dripping your bones in that uncomfortable warmth.

Agawa wasn't there long. Or maybe time went by faster since you were at home and could distract yourself with the familiar smell of Gran's cooking and your brother's laughter. It didn't really matter which it was, because within minutes you were in your room, trying to pass time with anything you could get your hands on. You tried doodling little figures in your notebook, watching the news, rearranging the things in your room, and staring outside where your brother ran around and his voice leaked through from the exterior.

You turned around and walked into the bathroom that connected with your bedroom, deciding to rearrange something for a simple distraction. The near-silence was enough to take your mind off of everything—the argument, your guilt, the fact school was starting again tomorrow.

Which was strange, honestly. As a child, you hated the silence. You hated being alone and hearing the house shift, the vent's grumble before blowing air through the house, and the sound of water falling through the pipes while the washing machine ran across the house. But, now, it seemed a bit comforting.

Except, it grew eerie the moment you heard an indistinct rumble, an unfamiliar shift in the air. You froze, setting down the collection of things you kept in your bathroom drawer and leaving it on the countertop. You turned and moved slowly to the threshold, only peaking out an inch. Your bedroom door was wide open and perpendicular to the bathroom door. If you left the room, anyone outside of your bedroom door would see you.

You heard your brother crying, sobs that sounded deafening. Sobs that sounded terrified and yet defeated all at once. Then you heard Gran yelling something. Or maybe she was crying. You couldn't tell. It was hard to tell with your heart pounding behind your ears and her volume weaker than your brother's. Was it from age or was there another reason?

Your heart beated faster, your body falling forward to peak from your bathroom. Footsteps were drawing around the house, desperate and searching. Pulling back into the bathroom, you silently grabbed the squeegee from inside the shower and grabbed your shampoo. You had to be quiet.

The bottle was slippery and fell to the ground.

With a heart that dropped past your stomach, you heard the footsteps stop and began to rummage through the bathroom for anything to grab. You grabbed the shaving cream and the Lysol from under the sink, turning around just in time for you to meet your mother holding a knife.

She was screaming, her arms raised above her head with the intention to kill. You moved to the side, spraying her with the shaving cream as you almost stumbled over the shampoo. You ran from the room, nearly tripping over the toys on the ground as you sprinted through the hallway that led to the garage.