Break Free

Day Two

10:00am

Despite being only slightly drunk and exhausted from driving for over 18 hours straight, Aaron only lost control once. I had to reach over and keep the car from going into the ditch to the left of us. When he jolted awake, he accused me of trying to escape and gain control of the car, completely unaware of his alcohol intake.

We finally reached his house that was about 15 minutes outside of New Orleans, Louisiana. The neighbors gave us pleasant waves, but their faces told a different story. Their mouths were forced into a smile but there was hesitation hidden behind it. Almost like they were too timid to say anything, especially to someone like Aaron.

The house looked very different compared to when we lived there together. As a family. A dysfunctional family, but a family nonetheless. The soft blue paint was peeling, the sidewalk was cracked from the blistering summer heat over the years, a few of the shutters lay hanging in desperation to be fixed. I wouldn't have recognized it if it weren't for the gigantic tree in the front yard that held my childhood tree house. I spent so many summer and fall days up there. I was suddenly filled with immense sadness at the fact that I was now standing in the place that I left behind so many years ago in an attempt to start fresh. I had to leave behind my friends, my school, my teachers that did what they could to help me through my situation. They were my family that acted as an escape from what I went through when I went home. I wondered who each of them turned out to be. Who they became or what they were going to be. I wasn't able to keep contact with them due to the fact that we didn't want Aaron finding us, wherever we went. And that meant cutting out anyone he could use to get information from. It was lonely at first, but it got easier as the adjustment went on. We were incredibly paranoid for the first year or two that we were in Maryland, but began to relax slowly. I'd like to think that we kept our guard up after that, but lately, I'm not so sure. It seemed like we almost got too comfortable, and didn't think Aaron would travel over 1,000 miles. We were wrong, and now we had to pay for it.

The inside of the house wasn't much better. It reeked of cigarette smoke and cheap beer from all of the cans lying around the couch.

"Your room is still upstairs. Just how you left it," Aaron said as he opened another can of beer. I trudged up the stairs and took a right into a hallway. Walking around the railing, I went down another small hallway into my room. He was right. It was just like I left it. The walls were still a subtle lavender with butterfly stencils over my bed. The comforter looked freshly washed, along with the pillow cases. The shelves in my book case that once held picture frames and books was empty, but also looked incredibly clean. There wasn't a speck of dust to be seen anywhere in the room. He had cleaned it. He wanted me to feel at home, despite everything that happened. Too bad there was no amount of cleanliness that would ever make me feel comfortable with this house. There were too many ghosts in the hallways and skeletons in the closets, memories of days gone by haunted me as I sat there in silence. I threw myself face down on the bed and screamed into the pillow. I pushed the pillow harder into my face and the screaming began to get louder. I laid there, screaming into the pillow, until I fell asleep from exhaustion.

*****

11:30pm

I struggled to open my eyes. They were incredibly swollen and it took a second to remember that I wasn't in my room at home. My real home. Not this bullshit excuse of a home. My wavy brown hair was a complete rat's nest, and I would have tried to get a brush through it if it weren't for the fact that I didn't have one... I didn't even have a hair tie to get it out of my face. "Shit," I muttered. My stomach rumbled, proving it was in high demand of food. I weighed my options, I could either sit here all day and just not bother with eating for as long as I'm here, or go downstairs and see what I could do about the fact that I haven't eaten in over 24 hours... I seriously considered the first, but decided the latter would be for the best.

I walk downstairs to the sound of talking in the living room. I had no idea what was going on or what to expect, so I crept down as quietly as I could. Straining to hear the conversation, I could only catch words like "license plate" and "suspicious". Someone found it. Someone found my plea for help. They called. I'm going to go home. I'm going to see my mom. I immediately began to cry at the thought. That was the one thing I wanted more than anything. I just wanted to see her. To hear her voice again. To feel her arms around me.

I mustered up the courage to come out from behind the corner when I found Aaron and a man I didn't know. He wasn't talking to the cops. He was talking to a friend.

"Are you the one that wrote my license plate somewhere where I wouldn't see it? Were you trying to get help? Damn it, Scarlet! This is your home now!" Aaron yelled, throwing a can of beer on the carpet. Its contents began to spill out, causing a large stain to form on the carpet.

"Woah, woah, what? Why the hell are you blaming me? Anyone could have called in! Maybe someone was suspicious or wanted to call in a dangerous driver," I said, hinting to the events of yesterday.

"I just got a call from the police. They checked the plate number and found me, and then began to ask me all these questions. Are you stupid? Why is it so hard for you to understand that you're not going home?! You're not leaving!" Aaron began to close the 8-foot gap between us. He was mad and I was definitely not strong enough to fight right now. I bolted back upstairs and slammed my door. It took all of my strength to push the bookcase in front of the door since it didn't have a lock on it. I began to hear banging on the other side, "Damn it, Scarlet! Get out here!" bang, bang, bang, "Scarlet, I'm serious!" bang, bang, bang. Then there was complete silence. I wouldn't dare open the door, knowing from experience that he is only trying to lure me out. I decided to sit in the window seat, and take out the book I had in my bag. It's a perfect opportunity to get a good chunk of it read.