Good Luck Anna

The Return

 TW; Verbal and physical abuse 

   Alex allows me to skip school on Friday so we can get his cast off together. Edward drops us off at the house afterwards, apologising for not sticking around due to some work emergency.

  As always Alex jumps out of the car the second it stops. Shakily hobbling to the door, I lazily follow behind.

  My feet land on the steps when Alex speaks, "What are you..." I rush to the door just in time to see my dad punch my brother straight in the eye. He stumbles on his newly repaired foot before completely losing his balance. His cheek slamming into mum's table with a sickening thud. 

  Turning to ice I can only observe as dad towers over Alex who is on his ass with his back to me.

 The stench of alcohol hits me like a tidal wave. Dad is in rough shape his skin looks almost yellow, his normally pristine grey hair is long and straggly hanging over his face. Who knows when he last bathed. I've never seen hatred like what is spewing out of him right now and it's aimed directly at my fragile brother.

  Dad grabs Alex by the collar of his jacket venomously sneering, "How dare you stay in my house, you are a fucking murderer. I never wanted you in the first place and all you accomplish is to kill the only thing I have ever loved." His grip tightens on Alex who doesn't even attempt to fight back.

   I try to make my legs or mouth move I need to tell dad to shut the fuck up but I'm sobbing so bad that breathing is almost impossible never mind anything else.

  "She is dead because of you. You fucking killed my wife. Why did she have to die when you get to live! You should have drowned with her. You useless, incompetent waste of oxygen. You are a murderer, I never want to see your repulsive face ever again. Get the fuck out of my house." Dad screams so loud that even from the door I can see the spit flying from his mouth. Alex is given a final shove before dad storms off to another room.

  A small noise leaves Alex, it sounds almost like he is dying. How horrendous to have all the worst things you think about yourself confirmed by the one person who is supposed to love you no matter what.

  I have no idea how dad can't see how completely unrecognisable his son is in comparison to the one that left with mum. He is hanging on for dear life and I firmly believe the only reason he is still with us is because of that promise he made to me.  I'm not naive enough to think that he doesn't toy with ending it daily.

  Dad obviously doesn't care how losing them would have affected me. Edward is right he is so goddamn selfish only thinking of his own pain. Not for a single second considering how everyone else who loved mum might be dealing with her loss. What a cunt. I have never hated anyone, but I fucking hate him.

  Alex scrambles to his feet, another broken noise rattles through him then he turns toward me. He is completely devastated shattered beyond belief. All our hard work crumbles before my eyes, my heart brutally shreds itself. 

  Then something incredible happens his jaw hardens as all pain vanishes from his face, mask firmly back in place, he marches to me grabbing my hand dragging me upstairs.

  Once, we make it to the top a crash echos from below, making us both jump. Alex turns on me gripping both my forearms tight, his voice is firm when he says. "Pack your shit we are leaving here right now."

  I open my mouth to protest but Alex doesn't let me. "He doesn't love us Anna, I love you, it's not safe for you here, you are coming with me OK." another crash looks like it physically hurts him. "Or do you want to wait until that rage is unleashed on you?" I shake my head vigorously as he lets out a long breath. "Good let's get you packed, start with your school stuff, we can replace anything else."

  My body is still frozen in place while Alex retrieves my monster case from camp from the cupboard at the end of the hallway, he also wheels out a couple smaller ones for us to pack our life into.

  I can't stop sobbing it's so hard to breathe. My heart fucking aches. It's not fair that we have to leave here with all the little reminders of mum, when dad gets to live here surrounded by them. 

  Can we just catch a break for once. Alex keeps a strong hold on me until another smash from downstairs forces him into action.

  Alex drags me over to my bedroom, "We need to get out of here quickly so just chuck everything in we can worry about ironing later." He drops a light kiss on my forehead before he heads to his room.

I'm stunned into place. He kissed me just like mum used to. I didn't think it was possible but I cry harder. Another loud crash is the only thing that makes my legs begin to work again. I do as Alex suggested, packing all my school books and uniforms, then my few favourite outfits and essentials. By the time the first case is full my room looks like a tornado has hit it.

  Grabbing a second case from the hallway I peek into Alex's room to check how he is getting on. He is sitting on his bed back to the door, head drooped, entire upper torso shaking with his quiet cries. I decide to just give him space but do swipe the picture of the three of us in ugly jumpers at Christmas a few years ago from the wall.

   Ten minutes later Alex chaps my door, "You ready to go?" all emotion has been wiped from his face and voice. If only his eyes weren't so damn red to give him away. I nod as Alex strides into my room wheeling my case out.

  We are at the top of the stairs when I notice more empty spaces on the walls, Alex clearly had the same thought as me with the pictures.

  Coming to an abrupt halt, "the photo album in mum's room, we can't leave without it" I whisper to not alert the beast roaming somewhere below us.

  Showing a rare vulnerability Alex says "Anna, I can't..." he bites his lip, head shaking. Mum's room door has stayed firmly closed since we got home, neither of us physically able to venture inside.

  I tap his arm lightly "don't worry about it, I'll go get it" Alex nods nods in response. While I dash back along the hall to mum's room.

  My hands tremble on the door handle, I can't do this. Intense nausea washes over me. We deserve these pictures more than that dickhead, that thought alone motivates me to turn the handle.

  Mum's sweet vanilla scent bowls over me, I never quite managed to stop crying but body wracking sobs now consume me.

 My lead filled feet drag forward sluggishly, obviously trying to protect me from the agonising pain of being completely enveloped in mum. Between her strong scent and the barrage of memories this room has I'm on my knees before I know what's happening.

  I crawl to her closet pulling down one of her favourite jumpers, cramming it to my face, inhaling a deep breath. All I want is to live in this room, mum is so intense here it's like she is still alive giving me a hug. Jesus, I miss her so damn much. 

  It's so overwhelming that anxiety cripples me into the foetal position. My head is pressed to the soft carpet and if anyone could see me right now, I would probably be put on stronger medication than Alex.

   Mum's black Mulberry tote is just above my head, my lethargic limbs untangle from themselves as my greedy hands grip for it. This was her everyday bag, she always deemed these luxury items too extravagant to take on holiday hence it being in her closet instead of the bottom of the ocean.

  It is empty but its hers, having it motivates me to do what I entered this room to accomplish. I scramble to the chest of drawers swiping the thick photo album, stuffing it into mum's bag.  Stomping across the room half way to the door before spinning around heading to her bathroom.

  Nabbing the two bottles of body lotion and all of her signature perfume, I start to the door again but then a picture on her bedside table catches my eye. It is a photo of mum and me, I'm only a baby, she has me in this ugly pumpkin outfit and in the picture I'm losing my shit over it.

  I grab it too shoving the photo into her bag as well. Clenching the bag of treasures to my chest I start to leave a room filled with so many wonderful safe memories, when I swing back again to mums' massive vinyl collection. It takes seconds to find Eric Clapton Slowhand, it is too big to properly fit into the bag but I wedge it in as best as I can and leave her behind.

Goodbye mum.