Not a Reunion

Chapter 19

Mason

The next morning, I woke up to an empty house. The first thing I feel as I wake up is the fact that my body is aching. I knew that it was due to the fact that I had been sleeping on the floor for the past two days. The fact that my back cracks when I get up is evidence enough that I needed to get up and stretch.

Being in a room when the sun has just gone up is weird. What it asks for is the fact that this wasn't my room; it was Thea's. She had wanted me to sleep in her room, even though her face had told me otherwise a few minutes prior to the change of plans. I didn't know what had changed her mind.

I don't think about it much as I move on to my suitcase. I pulled out a shirt that had no sleeves because, with the weather starting to go up in its nineties, I knew that I wouldn't last an hour in the sun, even if it was early. Once I have a short also picked out, I get up.

I'm quiet on my walk to the bathroom, trying not to wake the girl up. She was snoring softly under her covers, and for some reason, it felt wrong to look at her. The fact that she wasn't awake made it so I couldn't look at her. I knew that she didn't even like me looking at her when she was conscious, so I knew I shouldn't look at her now. I had to respect her; that was the most important factor in all of this.

I head to the bathroom after only seeing a flaw in my red hair. Once I'm changed into my new outfit, I grab my phone off its charger by the desk. Once I have everything, I head downstairs. When I get there, I know why Thea wanted me to sleep in her room with her.

On the couch, Thea's mother was sprawled out again, a bottle of alcohol on the table tipping on its side. I didn't know the case for Jezabel, and I didn't know the reason. why Thea needed to come here. When I forced her to buy the tickets, I knew that she needed to be there for her mom. That much was true, but the reasoning behind it was still uncertain.

I knew that her mom drank now, but I didn't know why. I didn't know how much she drank either. I pick up the bottle off the table and then head to the kitchen. I threw the bottle in the trash can and then found that it needed to be taken out. I take the bag with me and then throw it in the dumpster. I come back to wash my hands, but after that, I'm out of the house again.

After doing stretches that immediately made my body feel ten times better, I set off on my run. I take the direction that is opposite my house, so I don't have to run past it. It takes me a few minutes to find out that I did have to see my house, but I'm able to ignore its sight for the first two times. The third time I run around the cul-de-sac, I slow my steps when I find a dog approaching me.

I wasn't afraid of dogs—that's what I tell myself—but my heart has palpations whenever I encounter one. I slow my steps, and once I do, I pass by my house.

Suddenly, the sound of my parents shouting in my house comes back to me.

Shouting.

Drinking.

Breaking bottles.

Heart-racing

The last one was true to my life right now. Once I look at my house, I feel my heart beating faster than it did when I saw the dog. The house was still the same, and as I walked past it, I found that the screen door was open. I could easily go up the stairs and check in on my parents.

But I didn't want to.

I couldn't do that. That was an impossible task. That task would require a lot of strength and the guts to face the hardships that I left. The heartache as well whenever I saw my parents.

I still remember the last day before I left to never come back.

"You're going to come to the airport, right?"