Loveless: A Toxic Love Story

Part Three: Escape

    Adam spent most of his time lying on his bed in his room. He would lie on his back and look up at the popcorn ceiling in his room. He would make shapes out of the spontaneous patterns above his bed. His blankets were plaid, his furniture was old, and the only things on his walls were a calendar and a couple of posters of wilderness photos. His boot box was under his bed, filled with pictures, his old gear, and several other items of memorabilia from his days of active duty. He had a desk, a bed, and an old oak dresser that he had kept since he was a young child. He never liked decoration much. His walls were a soft blue, painted by his dad years ago. The house had been in the family since the Sixties and he had been raised in it since birth. It was a three-bedroom house; it had narrow hallways, a half-finished basement, a modest-sized kitchen, and a large living room. The walls were decorated with pictures upon pictures of Adam's youth, with a few pictures of the extended family dotted randomly throughout the cavalcade of pictures.

    On most days he kept to his room and sat behind his desk. He wrote and wrote into journals and notebooks, musing on his experiences and on places he simultaneously missed and never wanted to see again. He would sit in the backyard in an Adirondack chair and watch the sun creep from horizon to horizon. When he wasn't in the backyard he found himself wandering through the neighborhood, occasionally walking down County Road 82 down to Main Street. He would walk along the shops and stores but would not go into any of them. Some of the townsfolk would wave at him or greet him but he would only return a half-hearted courtesy smile. He mostly avoided people and kept to himself. He didn't want to talk to anybody in town, none that he was familiar with, at least. He was very conscientious of his new gait, thanks to the hard polymer prosthetic leg he wore on the left side. It gave him a funny gait, he knew, and he often wondered what people thought of him. It was why he wasn't willing to talk to people. He didn't want to talk to people because he knew that they'd look down or pitiful on him because of his new handicap. He also felt guilty often; spurned by the guilt of being the only returning soldier to their hometown. So he would get through town and hurry back home.

    His father and mother didn't bother him. His father could not stand how reclusive Adam had become but the more he prodded him to come out of his room the more Adam withdrew. His mother was sweet and passive-aggressively trying to get him to join them for outings with some of the townsfolk but Adam politely declined each time. They didn't know what to do so they chose to do nothing and let Adam to his own devices in his room.

    A week after the homecoming party for Adam, in the late afternoon, someone knocked on the Hope family's front door. Adam's mother answered it. She opened the front door but kept the screen door closed. To her surprise there was a blonde woman standing outside.

    "Is Adam here?" the woman asked.

    "Yes, he is," Mrs. Hope replied. "May I ask who's calling on him?"

    "I'm Mandy," the woman said, "We've met before, Mrs. Hope. I'm going out with your nephew Vance, remember?"

    "Oh!" Mrs. Hope said. "I'm sorry, dear. I didn't recognize you. It's just been so busy around here lately, what with Adam being home now."

    "Right," Mandy said. "Can I see him?"

    "Well," Mrs. Hope said, "I'll go see if he's up."

    "It's four in the afternoon," Mandy said, "He's not up yet?"

    "He's been-" Mrs. Hope was about to say.

    "Can I come in?" Mandy asked.

    "Oh," Mrs. Hope said, "Sure, dear, come on in!"

    "Thanks," Mandy said. Mrs. Hope opened the screen door to let Mandy in. They stood in the living room very briefly. "Where's his room at?"