Blood On Her Hands

Chapter 14

Everything was different all of a sudden. The dynamics in our family, the members, my role in it all. It was rapidly changing. It felt weird that throughout all of it, my room remained exactly the same.

My room had changed a minimal amount of times since moving in with my Tìo and Tìa. The child sized mattress with the cartoon bedding had been swapped out before middle school, my boy band posters ripped down after I grew tired of their music, and the goldfish bowl that used to sit on my dresser was gone with the fish long dead. Other than that, my room stood true to its original blueprint.

The dresser that stood up to my chest with drawers so deep that shirts went missing for months remained. The vanity with the velvet covered chair tucked under the desk and bulbs going down the sides of the mirror remained too. The bedside lamp that sprouted into a LED rose bud that lit the room in a rosy pink was still there.

I didn't mind the continuity of it all. It was dependable. The accessories I kept overall those years were what I wanted to get rid of. I wanted to chuck the heart shaped picture frames on my wall into the nearest trash can. I didn't want to see the patchwork duvet ever again. Those objects didn't belong to me. They belonged to Mickey before the wedding. Mickey before her brother in law was killed and her family became strangers.

The craving for change was like a pricking sensation on the back of my neck. It was a nagging feeling. I decided that I would allow myself to have this thing. I would spend the morning shopping.

As I walked to the main street of town, I thought about what exactly I was looking for. Was it a new style? Perhaps so. Things in my room felt too dreamy. Too idealistic. The pastel pinks and the whites nauseated me. I wanted things that oozed maturity and sophistication. I wanted to see the colors of the night, of bruises and of blood.

There was no use in pretending. When I laid in bed, I didn't see fluffy sheep. I saw my mother falling to the ground into a pile of limbs and Adonis being held at gunpoint.

I went to the thrift shop first.

It was warm inside, warm enough to make you break a sweat if you were ruffling through the racks too quickly. The fan hanging in the ceiling made a humming sound that filled the silence of the late morning lull. I set my gaze straight ahead so as to not get distracted by the rows of clothing. I came to splurge a little, not deflate my savings.

As I went through the aisle of decor, I found numerous items that called to me. There was a set of canvases with sketches of insects: a butterfly, dragon fly, and ladybug. They would go lovely in the spaces the heart shaped frames left behind. I especially liked the ladybug drawing. It was my favorite insect because they were lucky.

I needed some luck.

Though I tried to steer clear of the items I did not need, I found myself looking through the jewelry collection. Plastic earrings, leather bracelets and colorful sets of layered necklaces. I let my fingers skim over them all, imagining different versions of myself who would wear these styles of accessories. Then I saw a watch.

The watch.

I remembered it because it was the nicest thing Adonis owned. The band was made of black leather, the outside shell gold and shiny. The numbers of the clock were roman numerals and I vividly recalled the sound of Adonis's chuckle when he said it took him an embarrassing amount of time to decipher the time from it.

I picked it up and held it in my hands, the handle of my shopping basket resting on the crook of my elbow. I ran my thumb over the glass. It was cold. I shivered as I remembered all the times I had seen it on his wrist. He didn't wear it out much. Could it be his? Nancy had given away most of his things. Could have been holding what had once belonged to him?