The Girl Next Door

Home for Christmas

"Carter!" I heard my mom's voice calling me from downstairs in half sleep. "I swear that girl will drive me crazy one day. Carter!" she barged through the door of my room, slamming it so hard the clock on the shelf next to the door frame almost fell. "Carter, get up. Our plane leaves in five hours and you haven't even pack yet."

Plane. A plane that will take me home, to Split, after four and a half months of being stuck here.

I started slapping my arms through the air. "5 more minutes!"

"We're going with you or without you." she said before getting out of my room in the same dramatic way she entered.

I rolled out from my cocoon of bed sheets, and collapsed on the other side of the bed. I looked through the weakly lighted bedroom. It was still empty. The few boxes with my packed summer clothes and photo albums were stacked in the corner, giving out an image of this being more of a temporary hotel than my room. It looked like no one actually lived here. There was no detail, no picture of me and my family or some other captured memory, no posters on the walls, no books on the shelf, that could make this house a home.

I crawled to the glass dresser standing next to the door, and took out the same plastic black suitcase that carried my things here. I started digging through the closet searching for shirts and pants and jackets. It felt... wrong, packing for a visit home.

On the way to the bathroom, Harry's packet caught my eye. I took out the necklace and admired the guitar glistening in the faded morning light over and over again.

I debated whether I'll just leave everything here, or to take it with me. In the end, I clasped the chain around my neck, letting the charm free fall down my collarbone, and threw the card on the top of my stuffed suitcase. I put on a simple light mint sweater and skinny jeans, and with my laptop under my armpit, my suitcase in my hand and my earphones ready to be used, went down the stairs. Chris and mom have already started to fill the trunk of the taxi with their stuff.

The flight back home was surprisingly short that I didn't even have the time to fall asleep next to the old lady who was sitting beside me. She didn't bother me. That's why I seemed to like her more than anyone right now.

When the plane landed, all I heard from the moment we got our bags, to the moment we entered their car, was my grandmother crying and my granddad trying to shush her. Barbara, my grandma kept asking me questions all the way home. I didn't bother to give her anything but a nod. I was too busy trying to remember everything I missed since I've been gone.

When the car finally stopped in front out big family house, I was so confused I didn't know what to do. Mom had to shake my head to make me realize that the door is used to go through it, not to be standing in front of it like a statue.

I stopped at the doorway of my dusty old room, soaking all the good memories in. In the end I collapsed onto the bed next to Cat and slept through the rest of the day.

When I woke up the white Christmas lights were shining on my wall, and I could see through the window the outlines of the darkness-swallowed sun left traces on the sky which was painted in burning colours. I ran right pass the smell of cherry cobbler coming from the kitchen, and ended up in my empty street. I looked up, and saw the sky I was used to, perfectly untouched, just the way I've left it.

I heard someone calling my name from the distance, but I didn't bother to turn around. I was too afraid that someone might tear my sky from me again. Somebody grabbed my hand and pulled me aside right before a car passed next to me.

"Carter!" I realised it was Ana who saved me.

"Ana?" I hugged her, then took a step back to make sure she really was here. Her hair grew out. She dip-dyed it red. I like it.