Pain Killer

20 ~ Welcome Home, Sweetheart.

The bus wobbles as it hits pothole after pothole. My head leans against the window and I stare at the blurred road, my mind blank.

I knew everything was too good to be true. No one can just fly in the clouds forever. But out of nowhere, without any warning at all, the ground slammed into my body with that phone call. And cold reality is finally here.

Martha's actions play in my thoughts like a slideshow and I can't stop it if I try. The look on her face as I shut the door squeezes my chest, but the taint of her lies slants my perception. I can't see clearly what it all means or why she would do the things she did.

It all hurts too much to think about. I know I'm too close to the problem to see anything for how it is. So I need distance.

My parents should be far enough, right?

The bus stops, lurching me out of my daze. I glance at the sign and grab hold of my suitcase and backpack, walking down the aisle and stepping off onto the sidewalk.

I find myself at a busy, steaming street, in the very heart of the city as I look up at the towering buildings around me. It's strange to be back.

I walk a few blocks down the wet concrete till I find the city building that I used to know as home. Shadows overhang the whole expanse by surrounding towers. Although it's just after sunset, the city enhances the feeling that it's much darker.

It's chilly where I stand. I still remember the room number, the floor number, the name of the desk clerk, and the doorman. I suppose it was only eight months since I left. It feels much, much longer.

Floor 27, room 2006. I stare down at the gray carpet under my feet and feel that familiar disgust towards the gray walls and black sconces lining the hallways. I still hate them. They're gray. I hate gray.

It's dim in the hall as I ring the button and wait for the click of the lock. I don't consider trying the code, suspecting that it won't be the same number that it used to be before I left. A failed attempt would only go to show how far I've drifted from this life, and that I don't truly belong back here with my family. Having the wrong code would prove my homelessness and my orphaned existence.

This is so dramatic, I think to myself, almost laughing at the show I'm putting on, the victim I'm making myself out to be. But here I am, a door away from the people who haven't lied straight to my face.

My breath hitches in anticipation. What if... they really did miss me?

I suddenly gain a little bounce in my heels as I imagine a warm greeting, maybe a few tears as they welcome me back home. I try not to succumb to my hopes, hearing footsteps from inside.

The door slides open and my eyes drop to the dozens of multi-colored baby toys skewed across the floor.

"Delilah, you're back so soon. Welcome home, sweetheart." I'm greeted with a loose hug by David. A few months had done nothing to the picture I had of him in my mind. His dark hair looks the same. The fine wrinkles along his brow are still there, unchanged by time. He doesn't wear a suit, but a T-shirt and sweats.

I do a double-take of his attire. During my whole childhood, he never wore lazy clothes at home. What happened while I was gone?

I numbly enter the living room, assessing the gray atmosphere of the décor, covered in colorful baby items.

"I'm surprised you never suspected anything from Martha, till we got through. Are you okay, though? I mean, what's it been like these past months, going to college for the first time, everything, we have so much to catch up on!"

I remain silent, gripping my bags with white knuckles. I'm not sure what I was expecting but this hits wrong. A baby's cry is heard from a few rooms away. I look over at David in question.