Escaping Her Mind

Chapter Four: Memories That Hurt Part One

When she walked through the door, the last thing that Max thought she would see would be her old house in California. 

Max walks through the hallways of the house, looking for whatever it was she was supposed to be looking for. It was a memory, right? That means that there's a younger version of her running around here somewhere. She turns right down a hallway and walks a familiar route to a bedroom. 

Stopping outside the open-door bedroom, she looks inside and sees a red-haired 5-year-old playing on the floor with the wheels of a small skateboard. Max smiles a small smile, watching her younger self spin the wheels of the skateboard and hum a song to herself. 

Muffled voices draw her attention and Max looks into the hallway. She looks around and notices where the voices were coming from her parent's bedroom. Just then, the door bursts open and her father -- not her stepfather but her dad -- storms out of the room and down the hallway. 

Upon hearing the door slam open, Memory Max shoots up and grabs her skateboard, rushing into the doorway. Max presses her back up against the wall (although she is positive no one here can see her) but she does it anyways and stays quiet, observing. 

"Daddy!" Memory Max exclaims, her voice higher. Memory Dad stops in the hallway, composes himself quickly, and then turns around with a smile. 

"Hey, baby." Memory Dad says with a smile.

"You promised you would teach me today." Memory Max says, holding up the skateboard. "Remember?" 

"Oh, I'm sorry, sweetie." Memory Dad says, walking over and kneeling down in front of his daughter. Max kneels down as well, trying to get closer to her dad even though this was a memory. "I need to head out for a little."

"For how long?" Memory Max asks in a whine.

"I'm...I'm not sure." Memory Dad says. "I got some stuff to do over at the office and I--"

"Why do I still hear your voice?!" Memory Mom yells from the bedroom, walking out. "I told you to get the hell out of here!" 

"Watch your language around our daughter!" Memory Dad yells, standing up from the ground and glaring at Memory Mom. He then looks at Memory Max. "Sweetie, go play in your room."  

"Are you guys gonna fight again?" Memory Max questions. 

"Maxine." Memory Dad says sternly. "Room, please." Memory Max turns to go back into her room, putting her skateboard back on the ground and flinching slightly as the door slams to her parents' bedroom once again. 

The yelling was loud now. Memory Max could hear a string of curses from each of her parents, one after the other, firing off like it was some kind of competition. Memory Max's eyes well up with tears and she rushes over to her bed. 

At her bed, Memory Max crawls under the wooden bedframe, shifting through the toys and clothes that were under there. Max walks into the room, watching her younger self look for something so desperately that it hurts her heart to watch. There was only one thing she knew how to do when the world got to be too much for her: block it out. 

And that's exactly what Memory Max did. Because as soon as she found her headphones and walkman, music was blasting in her ears in seconds. And then, it didn't matter if her parents were fighting, it didn't matter if there was a storm raging in her house, it wouldn't even matter if the world was ending outside her bedroom window. With her music on, everything drowned out: her parents fighting, the curses, the bullies at school, the world.

Max watches as Memory Max closes her eyes on her bed and hums to her music. And then, as if by some kind of magic, a golden key glows into existence by the walkman on the bed. Max's eyes widen at the key and she rushes forwards, grabbing the key from the bed and turning around. She runs through the doorway of her old bedroom and ends up back in the white hallway.