Finding Me Again

At Home

            Driving is one of the only things that calms me.  After the thing, I stopped doing everything that reminded me, or that made me face the pain of the situation. I basically dropped all my hobbies, but driving was the one thing I still had to do. The drive home eases me back into who I was- each turn and each place I see holds another one of those goddamn beloved memories that I can’t get out of my head. I don’t mind though. For twenty minutes, I can pretend it never happened. That nothing ever changed. That everything is still fine, and the night won’t end with Momma crying and my brother shifting uncomfortably. I can pretend that things are still O.K.

                I let each memory that the road brings wash away the memories that have been made since ‘it’ happened, and by the time I get home, I feel relaxed. The feel of Matty’s eyes on me in the cafeteria is almost entirely gone- almost.

                When I walk through the back door, my mom is sitting in the kitchen, idly flipping through a magazine, paying no attention to the glossy photos. I immediately feel some of the tension from before roll back up my spine, as my body reacts to seeing my mother so robotic, and unlike herself.

                She used to laugh a lot. I always felt like the luckiest girl in the world to have such an amazing, loving mom. She was always the most beautiful woman I’d ever seen, and her intoxicating personality only added to that fact. But ever since the incident, she’s been quiet, reserved, shy, and almost…  cold. Like everyone else, the way she looks at me has changed. She looks at me with regret now, and a little bit of shame. I know she thinks it’s all my fault, and I can’t help but agree.

                “Hi Jolie.” She says faintly, looking up at me. My mom is the only person in the world who has ever only called me by my middle name; most my friends call me A.J. Or… they did, when they were still talking to me. She used to tell me it sounded like the way you say pretty in French- which is “joli”- and that I was the prettiest girl she’d ever seen, so she thought it was fitting. I love when Mom calls me Jolie- it helps me think that she must still love me, at least a little, even after everything I did. I kiss her on the head, let her pat my hand, and then I walk up the stairs to my room.

                I’m used to her not asking why I’m home early. It’s become something that happens frequently.

                When I get upstairs, I go immediately to my brother’s room, knowing he must be home. Alec attends Vanderbilt University, which is less than half an hour from where I live. It’s also my dream school. But, he tries to be home a lot, to make sure that my mom and I are okay. Alec and I are closer than any other siblings we’ve ever met. He treats me like a fragile porcelain doll, more so since what happened. I don’t want him to feel like he has to take care of us, though; I know it must be a major pain in his social life. He’s a college student- he should be on campus more often than he’s home.

“Alec?” I say quietly, peering around the door into my brother’s messy room. He immediately stands up and pulls me into a giant bear hug. “Hi, Age.” My brother is the only other person beside my mom that has an entirely unique name for me. He’s been calling me A.J. since we were little- he could never quite figure out how to say A.J.

“How were they today? Did anyone give you a hard time? Is anyone being nicer? I’m telling you, all of this will get better when you join me at Vandy next year.” He bombards me with questions, and I laugh.

“They were the same as usual; no one gave me any trouble, but to give me trouble they’d actually have to speak to me, so…” I ignore his reference to Vandy- I’m praying I get in, but I can’t help but feel as if Vandy isn’t the way for me… it’d be like an easy out on my music dreams. That being said, I still haven’t written a single lyric since… the thing.

I look at Alec, and suddenly feel like breaking down. All of a sudden, hot tears are rushing down my face, and there is nothing I can do to barricade the flood that is about to come pouring out of my eyes.

“Alec, it’s horrible! It’s like that time in kindergarten, when Matty convinced everyone that I had cooties, and nobody would play with me on the playground.” I begin to cry harder, “BUT NOW THERE ISN’T EVEN A PLAYGROUND.” I throw myself down on his bed, and bury my head in his pillows. Alec sits next to me and rubs my back soothingly, “Speaking of Matty… has anything changed with him?” I flip my head over, so that my voice won’t be muffled.

“Change would require him to talk to me. He hasn’t said one single word to me, Alec. Not one word. It’s like he forgot we were dating. It’s like he forgot we’ve been best friends since the first grade. Ever since he found out, it’s like we never knew each other. He avoids me like the plague, and makes it clear that he doesn’t want to involve himself with me anymore.” I whine through my tears, looking up at Alec, who is frowning down at me.

“I know it’s hard, Age. I know. But you have to keep pushing through it. You can’t just let them run you out of the school like this. What happened wasn’t your fault, and it’s time for everyone to stop acting like it was.” My brother lectures me, and it makes me laugh to see him stern like this. I pull myself up out of the sprawled out position I’m in, and sit Indian-style on the bed. I love my brother, I don’t know what I would do without him. He’s been the only thing standing in the way of spiraling into depression- and I’ve been there, done that. I’ve already experienced the out of control feeling, the complete lack of being able to handle emotions, the stress overload, the feeling that nothing could ever be okay again. It almost ruined me, and I don’t want that anymore.

I give my brother a huge hug, and I think, for just a second, he understands exactly how much he means to me. I gather up my stuff and go to my room, where I dump all my stuff out on the floor and begin my homework.