Agliophobia

Chapter Four

"To the world you may be one person; but to one person you may be the world."-Dr. Seuss

Sawyer
As we pull up the drive to my house I realized that I am going to have to face everything. Every memory. Every day he beat me. Every time I faced life or death.

Parker hopped out of his side as I sit rooted to my seat, not willing to break my gaze off of the house in front of me. He opens the door for me and gestures for me to go in front of him, in which I reluctantly do so. As I walk through the threshold of the place I once called home, I let out the breath I didn't know I was holding.

"Are you sure you want to do this cosa dulce? Cause if not-" Before he could say anything else I cut him off. "If I don't do it now I never will be able to later. Come on. I'll show you around. This is the living room, obviously." I pointed out each room as we walk around the house, me picking up small trinkets along the way, things I wanted to have with me. As we walk up the steps I stop and pluck a picture off the wall and hug it to my chest.

"What is it mi pobre bebé?" Parkers voice echoed through the house like ripples on a pond. Gathering myself I shook my head and continued up the stairs and down the hall. "Sawyer talk to me. I want you to be okay." I turned around and completely fell into his grasp, letting silent tears spill over my eye lids. After what felt like hours but was only minutes step out of his embrace and sink onto the hall way bench, Parker soon following suite.

"This picture is of me and my mother. She died when I was 10 of multiple different types of cancer and an unknown virus. She was a wonderful person. Always happy, smiling. She could bring the best out of anyone. After she died my dad turned to drinking to cope with the mourning of my mother, his high school sweetheart. He then blamed it on me, saying if I wasn't born he could afford better medical treatment for my mom. That, since i was 2 when she was diagnosed, the stress of a child made her sick. Growing up they thought I would be autistic or 'slower than most kids' because of me being delayed and missing my growth achievements and being in the lower percentile for my age. They did test and therapy to try and see why I wasn't hitting my health marks and achievements when I was supposed to. But once my mom got sick they stopped running test on me and started running them on her. I eventually met my marks and caught up while my mom was spiraling downwards, at a rate that was out of control. At first it was just words. But soon his vocal abuse became physical, leading me to emotional distress at a young age. Every since I was 10 I had been blamed for the inevitable death of my mother. By my own father. I'm an orphan. I have no one left. Both of my parents were only children, I'm an only child. My grandparents are either dead or senial. I have no one left. Absolutely no one. I'm on my own, having to make something out of nothing. I just wonder if maybe-" I couldn't finish. I physically and mentally couldn't continue. I was crying into Parkers chest as he tightly held me in his tight grip, not letting go. Not that I minded.

After slightly regaining myself I led Parker up the rest of the stairs, walking down the hallway. I noticed my fathers room cracked open, a rare sight to see. Ever since my mom died my dad slept in the guest room, leaving his old one untouched, as to keep the memory of my mom where it was left. I pushed the door open all the way, letting the door hit the wall on the inside. The familiar smell of lilac and aftershave filled my nose, bringing a sense of home into the hole in my heart. It's been almost ten years. Ten years since I've smelled my mom. To you it might seem weird, but to me it brought tears to my eyes. I pulled Parker into the room and closed the door all but a crack while he sits on the bed. He's careful, as if trying to prevent wrinkles on the bed or something.

Parker
After I sit down on the bed I watch Sawyer walk over to the wardrobe and carefully open it, as if scared to see whats inside. Once its open far enough I realized all that was in it was a trunk. She heaved at the case but her arms just snapped to her sides, as if a rubber band. I quickly get up to help and pull it out, laying in on the floor. Sawyer and I sink to the floor, anticipating what's inside the mysterious box.