Holding My Breath [Wattys 2016]

8 0 ~ A n n a

                 

Flashback ~ December 31, 2010

The knock on the door makes me jump. By now it's probably noon. I'm packing everything into a duffel bag that I found in my parents' closet. I also took something of each of theirs. I took my dad's pearl pocket knife and my mom's birthstone necklace. I went into the room where Toby used to sleep and took his favorite beanie baby.

Then I started putting in the clothes. The money from the peanut butter jar. I can't stay here anymore. Caesar knows where I am. The house must be left in my parents' will to someone, right? Whoever it is, they won't throw away all of this stuff. If my parents left the house to someone then I have to trust that it's someone good. The closest family that I have is my uncle in Oklahoma. Maybe it's him.

I leave whoever it is a note not to throw everything away. I don't think it is really within my power to choose what happens to everything when we are all gone, but I had to do something to protect it. Even if it is only a note.

The knock comes as I'm raiding the food pantry. I grab the rifle I found under my parents' bed and walk slowly to the door. The rifle isn't even loaded. It doesn't work. It's from the civil war or something, but I'm sure it will scare someone. I'm actually not even sure that it's a rifle. But it's a gun.

I don't know guns.

I'm glad I don't. But maybe I should.

The loaded one is small and it's stuck in my belt. It's not a safe place, but if it comes down to protecting myself, I might need it.

I glance out the window at the front porch but I can't get a good look at whoever is outside the door.

The knock comes again.

I take baby steps toward the door and grab the knob. "Who is it?" My voice sounds scratchy after everything. The screaming. The drowning. The crying.

"Charlie," the stranger says. Why is she out there? I haven't talked to her in... months. A year? I think I've lost track of time for the first time in my life.

I throw the door open and keep the gun pointed at the girl in front of me. She shrieks and glares at me.

"Anna?" She asks me this in a small voice and I drop the gun. I nod.

She walks in when I step aside and flinches when I shut the door behind her. I don't speak as I drop the gun to the floor with a thud and walk back towards the kitchen.

She follows me and I am glad. It's better that she comes with me than her wandering about the house. Finding all of the evidence. Finding things to ask questions about.

It's not like she is a stranger, though. She is, or was, my friend. I know her. I know her family. I know she wouldn't come here on an undercover mission for Caesar or something. Or at least back then I didn't think she would. Now I'm not sure. Either way, now I let my guard down. I can't keep holding up my shield. My arms are getting tired.

I keep pulling food out of the pantry and then move onto the fridge. I make a sport of trying to make as much food with what I have left to eat now and keep the things that can be preserved or are dry aside. so I can take them with me when I go.

Charlie watches from the doorway, a worried look on her face. I don't talk to her. I don't want to. She's had months to try and apologize, but she hasn't, so if she wants to talk to me, that's great. But I hope she doesn't expect me to respond.

"Anna what happened to you?" She asks quietly. I don't respond. I just shrug.

"What did you do? You were on the news. People are looking for you!" She raises her voice a little bit and I stop making a sandwich to look over at her.

"I was in the news?" I ask. She nods quickly. When I walk past her to grab a glass for water, she steps back. She's scared of me. "What did they say about me?" I ask again, trying to act as if nothing is wrong.

If she doesn't know anything, then I don't want to give it away. And it feels better to be numb than in pain right now. I am in pain, and there's nothing I can do about that, but I can pretend. Pretending is good.

"They said that there was a robbery... and that you were the robber." She pauses to see my reaction but I don't give her one. She stutters as she continues, wringing her hands together. "I saw it. I saw the security video of you taking the money after that man took the clerk into the back."

Her voice starts to take a hostile turn. Her eyes are staring right at me and no longer at the ground. I know what's going to happen next. She was always such a sweet person unless something ticked her off. I guess I was that something. "Anna, a person died! Why would you do that? Why the hell would you ruin your life for a couple extra bucks?" She half yells and half asks me now.

She's not wrong. I didn't have to take the money. I wish to God that I didn't take the money. But I did. I just keep making my food, starting to eat. I try to keep the shaking out of my hands.

Why did I take the money? Why?

When she doesn't keep talking, I just shrug.

I guess she takes that as a confirmation that she was right because she starts to yell at me again. It doesn't hurt me to look at her anymore when we pass each other in the halls at school, but this is different. We used to tell each other secrets. We used to play together in the snow when we were six.

And she actually believes that I did it on purpose. If she of all people thinks that way of me, what is the rest of the world going to do? Especially when they hear the other half of the story? The part with the lake and the bridge and even the barn if they can trace that back to me. My prints are all over that place.

I wonder briefly what happened to the camera I left behind when I ran from the lake. I wonder if Caesar got it. Or if the police will be watching me wake up from my living nightmare just like he did.

"Are you really just going to stand there and ignore me!?" She yells at me, and I stop chewing, finally forcing myself to look over at her. Her face is red from yelling at me, and I already know that mine is probably paler than ever.

Again, I shrug.

She kicks the wall and starts to walk away, but then turns back. "Don't you get it, Anna?" she asks. I don't respond. "You're not even human anymore! You're a murderer. You let that happen to some poor person because you wanted something for yourself. I don't even know who you are anymore!"

Me neither.

I nod but keep my face clean of expression. It's hard when I feel the need to cry so bad.

"You make me sick. Just stay away from me." She walks out with that and I hear the door open. When it slams back, I flinch.

Then I see it, the little match box on the counter. Just beside the back door. I thought there was someone in the house last night... but now I know. It was Caesar. And he left me another message.

I drop my sandwich onto the counter and let my head fall into my hands. I stay there for a few minutes, wondering what all of this means for me in the long run, and then I stand back up. I gather up the food. I grab the match box. I finish eating. I finish packing. And then I take one last look around the house.

I don't know how long it will be before I come back.

I don't know if I'll ever come back. But I walk out anyway, the bright light of the sun like a spotlight on my face.

I pull a baseball cap over my face and keep walking. The photo is a mystery and I don't have much time left to find it. The only thing I can think to do is head towards the scene of the crime, back at the store where it all began. Because Charlie was right about something.

That's where it all started.

That means that if I want to find the photo, I need to go back to the beginning.