Anger

Chapter One

I was back. Six years and I was back. I was regretting it immediately but I had no choice.
The town was exactly the same as I had remembered it. I passed all the buildings from my childhood and the memories came pouring into my head; I passed the park and playground where the four of us, mother, father, Nick and I would spend practically every weekend at. Mother would make us sandwiches and tea with her famous cheesecake and father would drive us. Nick and I would eat too fast and play on the swings, or the slide and Nick would always let me go first because I was younger, and we would get stomach aches and father would laugh as mother always said she told us so. Nick and I would fall asleep until we got home. It was the best days of our lives, too quickly gone. I passed the old bookstore where I once worked and I felt a spark of joy. I missed the bookstore. I was surrounded by books all day, able to read whatever I wanted with no price, like the classic Silverstein, and Poe, and Austen. In times of stress or being overwhelmed I could bury myself in books and be somewhere else. The joy I felt looking at the shop turned to melancholy.
In the center of town was the square, even though it was just a few roads leading to a circular stretch of road. A large willow tree sat in the middle of the square. There was a circular patch of green with a fountain and park benches. Nick and I spent our high school and middle school days under the tree with friends, relaxing, reading, writing and spending time together even if we had nothing to do but sit and listen to the people and nature around us.
Being back felt wrong. I felt like the entire town knew I ran away and they all were disappointed or ashamed in me. I no longer felt like I belonged like I had once upon a time.

My parent's home that I grew up in looked exactly the same. It was still the same red brick two story house with the white wooden porch and swing. The yard was mowed and an emerald green, with my mother's flower bushes of lilac next to the porch stairs. We had a red wooden fence spanning around the backyard from the corners where the porch met the house. The two car garage and driveway were empty except for one car: Nick's car. My mother and father's cars were gone forever, and so were the memories with it. It was a lovely home fit with lovely memories, but the past was gone.
My first step on the porch was a squeaky wooden board that brought back the memory of Nick and I breaking the board by jumping and playing on the steps. Father yelled at us at first, but then we all laughed when we told him we were superheroes. I could fly and read minds and Nick was always the hero with super strength and healing powers. Father and mother were always the ones giving us missions, turning chores into so much more. I grew up happy in this house, for a while.

Nick was waiting for me in our father's office. I took after my father when it came to reading and writing whereas my brother took after mother with their cooking and piano playing.
My father's office was a beautiful maroon and gold color. The curtains were gold whereas the floor and walls were maroon with gold trim. My father had an yellow ochre lamp on his dark mahogany desk and the walls were lined with bookshelves to the ceiling, filled with what I once thought was every book in the world. Nick sat in a golden suede armchair in front of father's fireplace. There was another arm chair by Nicholas with an end table between them, a bottle of my father's finest bourbon sitting on it with a small glass in Nick's hand. He looked up and saw me, a smile spreading across his face as he practically dropped the glass on the table by him. He stood and I hurried over to him, wrapping my arms around his neck and nearly knocking him over. He laughed and patted my head the way he always had.
He was just as I had remembered him, neat red curls, dark blue eyes and still a head taller than me. He rested his chin on my head and squeezed me tightly until I couldn't breathe.
It had been too long since I was home. I had missed so much because I was selfish. I had missed my parents and my brother, and now that I was back, all I had was my brother.
"Juniper," He whispered. "Don't run away again, please." I nodded, letting the tears fall onto his shoulder.
We let go and smiled for a few seconds, like we were confirming a secret. We sat down in the golden chairs and he poured me a glass of my father's best bourbon. It burnt going down my throat, but it was worth it.
"Where's Henry?"
The words stung in my head. I shouldn't have brought Henry back to this town. I didn't want him to find out anything from the past. What would he think?
"I stopped by Franki's and introduced them. Franki is with him right now while I came to the house alone."
"It's for the best. He can see it later but the first time coming back, it's good you came alone. I want to meet him though." I gulped down the burning bourbon and nodded.
"Let's go. I miss him already."
Nick laughed and shook his head.
"What's so funny?"
"You sound like mom. Everytime dad or I we're busy she'd say 'I miss my boys.'"
I was like my mother. I was just like my mother and I was happy. If I couldn't have her, then I could have a piece of her in myself. Nick turned out just like dad, the protector, the comedian, the listening ear. I cared for others like my mother and I felt things too passionately. One thing my brother and I shared was our brains. We both thought too deeply and too much.
"Come on, let's go see Henry and Franki." Nick patted my leg bringing me out of my thoughts.

I had only briefly talked to Franki when I stopped by. I talked to him long enough to explain that I needed to see the house alone. Nick and I went back to Franki's together this time.
Franki's restaurant was the same as the day I left. Franki and Henry were sitting at a counter when Nick and I went in. Henry was laughing and talking with Franki until Henry looked up and saw me.
"Mommy!" He yelled as he came running at me. I caught him in my arms and spun him, squeezing him close to me.