Lilith

Bound for Change

The police station is a grim, fluorescent-lit maze of bureaucracy and authority. I sit in a sterile room, facing two stern-faced officers who seem to see right through me. They're asking questions, probing for answers that I'm not sure I'm ready to give.

"So, Lilith," one of them begins, his tone clipped and professional. "We found a note at the scene. Your mother's handwriting. Care to explain what it's all about?"

I swallow hard, trying to push down the lump in my throat. "She... she left a note?" I manage to croak out.

The other officer, a woman with a no-nonsense expression, slides the note across the table toward me. It's written in Mom's elegant cursive, the words stark against the white paper.

"I can't handle it anymore. The pain is too much. I'm sorry, Lilith. Please forgive me."

My hands tremble as I pick up the note, my eyes burning with unshed tears. I can feel the weight of Mom's despair in every word, and it crushes me.

The officers watch me closely, waiting for an explanation. But how do you explain something like this? How do you put into words the agony of losing your only parent, especially when they chose to leave you behind?

"I... I don't know," I finally manage to choke out. "She was struggling. With Dad leaving, with everything... I guess she just couldn't take it anymore."

The male officer exchanges a glance with his colleague before leaning forward, his voice softening slightly. "Lilith, we need to ask you some more questions about what happened that night. Can you walk us through it again?"

I nod, steeling myself for the inevitable onslaught of memories. I recount the events leading up to the accident as best I can, my voice shaky but steady. The sound of screeching tires, the sickening crunch of metal, the blinding pain... it all comes rushing back with brutal clarity.

As I speak, the officers jot down notes, their expressions unreadable. When I finally finish, they exchange another glance before nodding.

"Thank you, Lilith," the female officer says, her tone surprisingly gentle. "We'll be in touch if we have any further questions. In the meantime, take care of yourself."

With that, they rise from their seats and leave the room, leaving me alone with my thoughts and the weight of the world pressing down on my shoulders.

Walking home feels like the only option I have left. The thought of getting into a car again just... it sends this chill through me, like my bones are trying to crawl out of my skin. But right as I'm about to bail, one of the cops flags me down. They've been doing some digging, looking for any family I might have out there. Turns out, I'm as alone as I feel no surprise on Dad being MIA. It's like he's a ghost, except ghosts probably stick around more.

I do the whole funeral thing for Mom. And by "do," I mean it's just me, standing there, trying to figure out how you say goodbye to someone who's already left you behind. When it comes down to actually burying her, I thought I'd be a mess. But the tears? They just don't come. It's like I'm all cried out, like my body's decided there's just no point anymore.

It's this weird kind of numbness, you know? Standing there, shovel in hand, dirt hitting the coffin it's supposed to be this big, dramatic moment. But I just feel empty. Like I'm hollowed out and all that's left is this shell walking around, pretending to be a person. It's not that I don't care. It's just... what do you do when you've spent all your emotions and you're just left with nothing?

I keep thinking I should feel something more, like grief or anger, or maybe even relief. But it's just this quiet kind of sadness, like a shadow that's always there, even when you're not looking at it. It's the realization that I'm really on my own now, truly, completely. And that's a kind of loneliness that's hard to wrap your head around.

After the funeral, I find myself back at home, surrounded by the suffocating silence that seems to have become my constant companion. Spike curls up at my feet, his presence a small comfort in the vast emptiness that now fills the house.

With no family left and no one to turn to, I'm left to navigate this new reality on my own. The days stretch out before me, endless and uncertain, each one feeling heavier than the last. I try to distract myself with mundane tasks, anything to keep my mind from dwelling on the gaping hole left by Mom's absence.

But no matter how busy I keep myself, the loneliness creeps in, a persistent ache that refuses to be ignored. I find myself longing for even the smallest moments of connection, a hug, a kind word, anything to remind me that I'm not completely alone in this world.

As the days turn into weeks, I begin to sink into a routine of sorts, going through the motions of life without really living it. Spike becomes my constant companion, his unwavering loyalty a lifeline in the sea of solitude.

But despite his presence, I can't shake the feeling of emptiness that gnaws at me from the inside out. It's like a gaping wound that refuses to heal, a constant reminder of all that I've lost and all that I'll never have again.

As I go about my usual routine, it's like I'm running on autopilot. School? Who needs it? It's not like I'm going to college anyway, not after everything that's happened. The accident, Mom's death, Romeo... It's all just one big mess that I can't seem to untangle.

I've stopped going to classes, spending my days lost in a haze of numbness and indifference. What's the point, right? It's not like anyone cares whether I show up or not. I'm just another face in the crowd, another statistic waiting to happen.

My thoughts are interrupted by a knock at the door, which is weird because nobody ever comes to visit me anymore. Except for Romeo's parents, but they usually give me a heads-up before showing up. I open the door to find a black SUV parked out front, and Spike by my side, ever vigilant.

A tall man steps forward, looking like he spends more time at the gym than I do in my own bed. He introduces himself as my brother, and I can't help but burst out laughing. A brother? That's rich. But the look on his face tells me he's dead serious.

Before I can question him further, another car pulls up, and a bunch of men in black suits start making their way toward the house. My anxiety spikes, but Spike's barking keeps them at bay. The man who claims to be my brother looks at me with a no-nonsense expression, and suddenly, I'm not so sure anymore.

He convinces me to come with him, promising answers to all my questions. And honestly, I've got nothing to lose at this point. So I signal for Spike to calm down and agree to go with him, despite my reservations.

As we head to the airport, my mind races with questions. Italy? What the heck am I doing going to Italy? But I'm too mentally and emotionally exhausted to care at this point. I just want to escape, to leave everything behind and start fresh.

Before we board the private jet, I send a text to Romeo, pouring out my feelings and saying goodbye. It hurts like hell, but it's better this way. I can't keep holding on to something that's never going to be.

I also text his mom, thanking her for all she's done for me and letting her know that I've found some relatives and I'm going to live with them. It's the least I can do before disappearing from their lives for good.

As the plane takes off, I close my eyes and try to push down the fear and uncertainty gnawing at my insides. Spike rests his head on my thigh, and for the first time in a long time, I allow myself to feel a glimmer of hope. Maybe, just maybe, this could be the fresh start I've been desperately searching for.