So that's really it? Amy nearly said out loud to the empty street.
The house looked incredibly strange and entirely ordinary at the same time. The front door used to be white with a large glass panel, and now it was black with only a small high window. But otherwise it was the same as when Amy had lived there.
Who's house was it now? Were they happy? Did their children take care of each other, argue and fight, ride skateboards, take cannonball dives into the pool, get on the yellow school bus on the corner every morning, watch TV until they were forced to go to bed?
Did they stay children and never turned into wolves?
With everyone off at work and school, Blue Bell Crescent was eerily quiet, like a movie set after the actors had gone home. Nothing seemed to move. Even the air seemed frozen in place.
Amy stood stock still gaping at her old home.
She had forced herself to forget about her mom and dad. But the memories stirred like the scent of a perfume rising to permeate the air after the lid is cracked open. They were vague, more impressions than solid concrete images. They filled her with feelings of how her parents had doted on her and spoiled her. The way they made her do her chores and her homework. How they cooked her dinner but had pizza delivered on Saturday nights. The millions of small moments: being read a bedtime story, the hugs, and the kisses on her cheek. They were all just passing moments at the time, but now seemed like an endless rain of affection.
Donny came back to her too. The baby who seemed to be a living doll to his four year-old sister— she had begged to hold him every chance she got. Donny, the adorable infant who followed her around everywhere, but grew up to be a mega-brat who annoyed her day and night. And who still came to his older sister with his problems, hoping she could make them better.
Amy remembered the way they would conspire to get mom and dad to take them places, like the movies or the fair, when it setup at the Cholla Place Mall.
Amy wanted to hate the Agency for taking her away from all that. But it wasn't them that took it away. It wasn't them that had made this house empty and left it for new people to move into.
It had been wrong of her to come back here. These were things best forgotten. She shouldn't have chosen this path as an escape from the attention at the restaurant and the many eyes in the center of town. Although, she had set herself on this course long before she dashed out that back door. It was no accident that brought her back to this place. It was her will imposed on the wolf. Somewhere buried in her brain was the need to return and see this place again and that had guided her paws last night and her feet this afternoon.
Returning to the scene of the crime.
Maybe Ylva was right. Maybe she was stupid. She must be, to have wanted all this guilt to flood back in.
Amy pulled herself away from the house and her past. With nowhere to go, she let her feet take an arbitrary course through the house lined streets. The only thing she could do was wait to change tonight and hope when she awoke she was in better circumstances than these.
The silence of the neighborhood was broken by a group of teenagers walking home from school. It was odd seeing them. Amy was so used to adults she felt like she was still twelve looking at the high school kids, even though she must have been about the same age as them.
"Nice dress," some jerk called to her as they passed on the opposite side of the street.
Amy kept walking, her head down.
"Don't be an ass," a girl said. "Leave her alone."
"What do you care?"
"Yeah, Lucy. You were the one who ripped into Sandra for wearing that god-awful top and made her cry."
But the girl named Lucy didn't answer. She was moving. Amy could feel the vibration in the ground from the impact of her feet and the scent of her talc, lavender, and coconut skin coming closer.
"Hey. Hey. Ignore Campbell. He's an idiot. You from around here?" The girl was at her elbow. "I haven't seen you before. Did you just move in? You look upset. Can I help?"
"No. Leave me alone." Her voice had no strength to it. Being alone seemed inevitable and it was difficult to ask for it.
Lucy acted like she hadn't heard, moving remarkably quickly in her black tights and short skirt. "We're all going to Kim's house to hangout and watch some Netflix. Want to come?"
Amy couldn't say what made her stop. She hadn't planned on it. All she wanted to do was get away from these kids. But this girl with her braided hair and pink lipstick seemed so desperate to talk to her. Amy hadn't had anyone desperate to talk to her—ever. And that desperation held her there, despite the friends that the girl had left behind looking on like a pack of hyenas. "Netflix? What's that? A show?"
Lucy gave a big snort of laughter and Amy started walking again.
"Sorry. Sorry. I didn't mean anything by it. It just surprised me. You really don't know?" Then with awe in her voice she said, "You don't, do you? Let me guess: you're from a ranch. Were you home schooled?"
"Yeah, something like that." Amy couldn't meet Lucy's eyes.
"I thought it must be with that outfit."
Amy's stolen donated clothes were ugly and ridiculous. Her cheeks burned thinking how this pretty girl must see her. "I didn't have much choice."
"It's not all bad," Lucy said. "I like your hair."
"Do you?" Amy ran her hair through her matted mane. "You're just making fun of me."
"No, I'm not. It's a mess. But it's cool. I wish my parents would let me do that to mine. What are you doing around here?"
"Ran away."
Lucy made an exaggerated nod. "Oh." That explained everything. "Why don't you come with me? We'll get you cleaned up." She followed Amy's wary glance to her gang. "The two of us can go to my place. When was the last time you had a shower? Common. Let's be friends." She held out her hand and when Amy didn't take it, she said, "It's okay. I don't bite. My name is Lucy Abigail Hanarhan."
She could almost hear R.J. telling her to just get out of there. That it wasn't safe around people. Or Ylva, telling her she was stupid for being tempted by the word friend. Someone was always telling her what to do.
She wished she could stop caring what people thought of her like Barbara seemed to be able to do.
What would Barbara do?
Whatever the hell she wanted.
Right now, Amy didn't want to be alone. She didn't want to be wandering aimlessly thinking about the past she destroyed. She wanted to forget all that and just have a friend and be normal.
Reluctantly Amy took Lucy's hand and told her new friend her name.
"You hungry, Ylva?"
"No, I ate already."
Lucy waved goodbye to her classmates and led Amy home.
YOU ARE READING
The Things We Bury - Part 2: No Big Apocalypse [Completed]
ParanormalIt has been four years since the government captured and imprisoned Amy Westgate after she massacred her family one moonlit night. She has grown up inside the secret laboratory known as The Music Box, where she has existed in two small rooms: a bedr...