The Secrets She Kept

The Secrets She Kept - Chapter 5

The door to the house protested as I attempted to push it open. The recent bout of bad weather had caused the chipped and exposed wood to become bloated, sticking within the frame.

"For crying out loud." I muttered. Then, turning the key once more, I rammed against the wood with my shoulder, leaning all of my weight upon it.

With a groan, the door finally gave way and swung inwards. I yelped as, unable  to stop my momentum, it carried me with it. I staggered through the open doorway, tripped over the uneven threshold, and crashed onto the threadbare carpet.

My shoulder throbbed in protest in time with my heartbeat.

"Ouch," I groaned, my hand reaching up to massage the aching wound. Damn that hurt. A lot.

Dust tickled my nose as small specs danced through the beam of sunlight spilling in from behind me. I sneezed, my head smacking back onto the floor in the process.

With a groan, I rolled onto my front. Then, placing both hands on the ground, I pushed up. My bruised shoulder ached in protest. Unsteadily, I clambered to my feet and glanced around. My hand came up to rub at the tender spot on the back of my head before falling limply to my side.

The house was dark and damp, a mustiness hanging in the air as if it had been empty for years. All of the curtains were closed, casting everything into shadows. No, it hadn't been years. In truth, it had only been two weeks.

Two weeks since I had finally relented and admitted Mum into the care of others. Two weeks since the sale of the house had been agreed and contracts had been exchanged. Two weeks since I had finally admitted defeat and said goodbye to the only life I had ever known.

I swallowed, hovering at the foot of the stairs. The house was hollow in my mum's absence. There was none of her warmth. None of her personality left in the peeling paper and flaking ceilings.

Stepping into the living room, I absently nudged at the fraying rug with the toe of my boot. "Why are you hovering here?"

I swallowed and turned to face the blonde woman in the doorway. Her presence blocked the daylight from penetrating the gloom of the small house, her features half hidden in shadows. The expression on her face however was familiar. I had seen in on our mum's face many times over the years.

"It feels strange without her. It doesn't feel like home anymore."

A manicured hand landed on my shoulder, gave an awkward squeeze of comfort. "I know. But it's not your home anymore. It's going to be someone else's soon. You need to let it go."

"Really? That's what you have to say? A little compassion would be nice." I shrugged off my sister's touch and stepped away. "Why are you even here? You didn't care to be here before when we needed you."

My sister sighed and allowed her hand to drop. "I cared."

"You have a funny way of showing it." I retorted bitterly, my resentment allowing me to step further into my home. The home which, as she had correctly pointed out, would soon belong to someone else. "You haven't been here once since her diagnosis."

I swallowed and glanced around at the living room. It was familiar and yet somehow unfamiliar. It was as if, in the brief time that I had been away, all traces of my life had been removed. Sure, all of my mum's things were still there. Her cardigan slung over the back of the chair. Her pictures on the walls.

And yet, without her, it was as if the very essence of her had seeped away. As if the walls had forgotten who she was. It was just bricks and mortar.

Most damning was that, now that Mum was no longer the sole focus of my attention, I could see everything I had neglected. It was so much worse than I remembered. The wall paper was literally peeling from the walls due to age. A suspicious stain yellowed the ceiling. The carpets were so tired and worn they had actually formed holes in places.