Being Josh Ramsay's Daughter

Memories

We went back to Megan and Mike's place so I could get my bags. Mike was talking to dad, which distracted him and allowed me to talk to Megan privately.

"Why'd you lie to him like that Acadia?" She sounded hurt.

"Megan. There's nothing to tell him anymore." I sighed.

"What does that mean exactly?"

"A nurse spoke to me when we picked dad up. They messed up. My test results were switched with another patients. My real results showed nothing." I smiled.

"So you're just never going to tell Josh that you ever thought there was something different about you?"

"Well, whether I do or not is up to me. But it really isn't hurting anyone if I don't." I said, walking back to where Mike and Dad had been talking.

Mike offered to drive us home since he had to go pick up Tristan anyway.

Frankly, I was relieved. I no longer had to endure the guilt trips from Megan.

When we got to our neighborhood, I tensed up. I hadn't been here since the day it all happened. And looking at the houses and the sidewalks and everything surrounding our -once quaint- neighborhood, triggers memories now. Awful memories that I would give the world to forget or to not have happen at all.

I must've showed some of that tenseness because I noticed that Tristan was staring at me.

"Acadia? Are you okay?" He asked in his sweet little kid voice.

"Yeah, T, I'm fine. I just have a headache." I lied, forcing a smile.

••

As soon as we got inside, dad sighed super loud.

"Isn't it wonderful to finally be home?" He asked.

I simply nodded, knowing I definitely did not feel the same way.

I looked at the floor in the kitchen where there was some dried blood from that day. I started panicking immediately as my mind flashed through the things I saw that day.

I can't believe the paramedics or the cops wouldn't have cleaned that up. I mean I get that that's not there job but it's sorta gross. And it's awful. No one wants to come home and see that and remember why they weren't at home in the first place.

"I'm gonna go to bed, it's kinda been a long day." I said, hugging dad and running into the kitchen.

I quickly cleaned up the dried blood and ran down to my room.

I shut the door and threw myself on my bed, crying.

I couldn't handle being in this house anymore. Every room reminds me of that day. Here in my bedroom was where I heard everything happening. This is where I waited for the cops to arrive.

I really needed to not be here. I could not stop crying.