Dead and Departed

Chapter Six:

Charlotte sneezed. The room was full of dust and cobwebs, but it was still blinding blue. The walls once were painted faded pink, but by the time Vega had been old enough to form words, she quickly corrected it. That was two years ago. Xander had gotten paint on his cheek.

And, a year later, Charlotte had finally gotten herself to come in.

A few of Vega's clothes were laying around the room and her stuffed animals were strewn around her bed that she hadn't made that day she had died.

Charlotte stood in the doorway for a second, then stepped inside for the first time in over a year. It felt sort of like a crime, stepping on the carpet that her child had once run on so often. Just as she felt like it was a crime to look at Vega's things when she was no longer around to tell Charlotte to play with her.

A lump rose in Charlotte's throat. But Brigetta had made a large point. Charlotte was close to having to sell the house, and if she didn't do something, she would have to go into their rooms anyway. But not to face a fear, to pack and sell their things. It was better not to do that. It was better to face her fear now and then try to recover.

Charlotte was forced to accept that she would have to do something. But she couldn't go back to school yet. It wasn't something where she could just run out the door if it became too much.

That's why she'd left the door open, ready to bolt out of the room whenever she wanted.

This might-- just might-- be the first step to going back to normal. Charlotte hurt just thinking about it.

There was no way anything could ever go back to normal. Charlotte knew that, just like she knew that she could never go back to normal. She could never look at a painting again without being reminded of her loss.

But now what? She was in the room. What else had she meant to do? Already, Charlotte felt she had walked a thousand miles.

After a moment, Charlotte bowed her head and left the room.