bare [h.s.]

The Choices We Make

a/n: vacation, school, and personal issues have held me back from writing lately and I apologize.

these are the final chapter of Bare,
enjoy. xx

........

I stumble through the front door,
excitement running deep in my veins.
I throw my purse on the couch,
calling for my parents to come quickly. "Mom, Dad!"

"In the kitchen, honey," she calls back,
and I take planned steps in her direction. Her wavy locks fall loosely down her back as she flips through a home decor magazine, sharp nails nearly tearing the edges of each page.

"Dad?" I search around the room, no sign of him or my brother. I want everyone to hear the news that I'm itching to tell, but she'll have to do.

"Both boys are out for the afternoon,"
she says cooly, taking a sip out of the mug beside her. Lipstick residue sticks on the side of the ceramic container.

I place my hands against the countertop, holding myself firm and upright. She stares at me, setting the magazine down and folding her hands together.

"I have some news," I grin, wrapping
my hands around her own, squeezing.

She faintly smiles back, "I have some news of my own, as well."

"Really?" My excitement trembles from inside, but it can wait.
"Tell yours first."

"Okay," she straightens her posture in her seat, pursing her lips. "I was going to wait till your father was present, but I suppose this is as good a time as any."

"Today I met with your principal," she smiles proudly, catching me off guard.
"He has informed me that you have the opportunity to graduate early,
and with your condition and recovery now, we, together, decided that would be for the best."

My hands slip away from her touch
that now feels venomous on my skin.
"So, when can I graduate now?"

She checks the calendar on her cell phone, swiping through several dates.
"Let's see, today is the 19th.
So, the week after Christmas.
But no worries, your principal
said the process is quick and painless,
you just have to pick up your diploma from the school."

My chest aches, "And then what?"

She frowns, "I don't understand the question. After graduating, you can
do whatever you want, honey."

I sense a trap, which my mother sets well. Behind her crystal eyes,
I can see a plan of her own forming. "What do you have in mind for me?"

"Well, I've been looking into out-of-state colleges, so you can broaden your horizons," she clicks her
tongue against her whitened teeth.
"Wouldn't you like that?"

I stiffen, tense at the thought of a new scene. Sure, it would be nice to get out of this town, which holds many terrible memories for me. But it'd come at a worse cost, wouldn't it?

"Oh, my!" She gasps, shaking her head at herself. "I'm sorry, Sawyer. Please tell me your news now."

My knees shake under the weight
I carry of her news. "Harry," I mumble, far less excited than I was moments ago. "He wants us to get an apartment together soon."

My mother sits at the counter with her hand over her mouth. "He asked you to move in with him?" She gapes.

I blush furiously, unsure of whether he asked me it or if I was dreaming.
The thought of us starting a life together makes my mind fuzzy.
"Yes, and it was so sudden I didn't have time to think about it. It was a spontaneous decision, but I said yes."

She rises suddenly, the concern laced on her face. "Honey, maybe that isn't such a good idea."

I stare blankly at her. "But this is my choice, Mom. I know you want me to follow your choice of college right now, but-"

"Sawyer, your father and I have been talking lately. We know how sad this town makes you since the incident.
Maybe a different state would make you happy again? And we are behind you fully if you want to move away."

I back away from her, my hip
hitting the corner of the stove.
"So, I'll move with Harry somewhere."

She reaches out to touch my shoulder,
but I dodge it, walking around the
island counter to create a barrier between her and I.

She huffs, annoyed by my actions.
"By 'away', we don't mean here with Harry. I think it would be beneficial to you and your future if you move somewhere with several opportunities."

I flinch at the thought of leaving Harry, as well as my other friends.
They've stood by me through the struggles this year brought,
and I can't just abandon them
for my personal benefits.
It would be wrong; selfish. Right?

My mother opens a cabinet drawer
behind her, a folded pamphlet
gripped between her fingers.
She tosses it to me, and my hands
fumble with it before I open it fully.

"What's this?" The question comes out before I can scan the title page.
The cover shows a candid picture
of a girl with books, the common
propaganda used to entice future students. I flip through the pages,
not bothering to read the passages.

"It's a community college in Chicago. We can afford it, and it would be a fresh start for you," she says carefully,
waiting for my full reaction.
I don't have one for her.
"Your therapist even agrees that getting away from here and starting anew in a different, healthy surrounding would make you a happier person."

I crumple the paper in my fist,
resulting in a defeated sigh from her.
"I'm not leaving him.
I think I made that crystal clear."

She mockingly laughs at me,
throwing her hands up as a signal
for this argument to die out.
"It's him or your future.
I'm sorry, Sawyer, for making you choose, but we are just trying to help. We want our little girl back.
And being trapped here with your past and Elijah will not bring her back."

I feel sick, my stomach churns and her words sink deep into my mind.
"I will never be my old self again.
I can't change that, you and Dad
can't change that.
Hell, not even Chicago can!"

"But we have to try!" Her voice
overpowers mine, and I shrink
into a vulnerable child.
She grips her temples,
rubbing soothing circles
along them to calm herself from
the pain I've caused now.
"We can find you a small apartment in Chicago close to the campus,
and you can forget about the past. Focus on your future;
help yourself for once.
Just think about it, please."

She brushes past me,
out of the kitchen. I'm left
staring at the balled-up pamphlet,
the propaganda girl now disfigured.
I take a seat at the counter,
unfolding the paper and flattening
every crease. I read deeper into
each word, picturing myself months from now, at college, with a new start.
It doesn't seem too bad,
my mother had a point.
I think I could be better somewhere else, not afraid of Elijah lurking or
my past crawling back to haunt me.

I can sense my mother's presence
from behind me, observing me
studying the pamphlet and choice thoroughly. When I turn around,
she's leaning against the doorframe,
calmer than minutes ago.

"Whatever you choose,
I hope you don't regret it,"
she mumbles, folding her
arms tightly against her chest.
"We live with the choices we make.
You better hope it's worth it."