The Final Season

Epilogue

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Epilogue

Summer had returned and both angst and excitement had tormented me for the past two weeks. Both trying to establish themselves as the superior feeling rushing through my body. Three boxes lay stacked on each other near my bedroom door. My life essentially, can fit in three boxes, and I'm not sure if it's a good sign, that I'm a simple and unmaterialistic person, or maybe, I don't have anything worth bringing with me.

Today--August eighteenth, is the first August eighteenth in four years that isn't spent with me standing on a field with Davis and arguing with him. It feels strange, as if I really belong there. Me not being there right now is putting me into a severe depression that I'll never be able to overcome. I always thought that leaving Davis would be the most satisfying feeling in the world; I'd leave with ease, and never look back, I'd never need to. I'd never have to oblige to his requests or bite my tongue as he barked at me for every little thing, but now I missed it. Now I wondered who would take my place, or if I was that easily replaceable.

I walked through the hall toward the staircase, and passed Max's room as I did so. A X-box controller was in his hands as his eyes stayed glued to the television screen. If my mom walked by, I was sure that she would have scolded him for sitting so close to the screen. He'd move away, and as she left, he'd go back to his seat as if she hadn't just told him different. I wanted to say something to him, maybe give him a last piece of advice before I left, but I didn't want to make it weird between us either. We never spoke like that with each other. We were never really that close.

"Hey," I said as I walked in and sat on his bed behind him. I stared at his unruly hair as he paid no attention to anything but the car he frantically drove through the streets. "So I'll be leaving in a few hours," I hinted, waiting for him to pause the game, run crying to me, and squeeze the air out of me with a hug. When he did no such thing, I ran my hands over his comforter, "pretty sad stuff, I know it's hard to control your emotions, but try your best for mom and dad's sake."

"Okay," he said monotonously.

"It's okay, I'll visit during holidays and breaks, we'll see each other so don't be so devastated,"

He paused the game and spun in his chair to face me, "do you want something? I don't like have a gift or anything."

I laughed and shook my head, "no stupid, just don't go flunking all your classes while I'm gone. You'll be the oldest in the house now that I'm gone. Don't go too crazy."

He groaned and I raised my eyebrow, "it's easier when you're here. Now I have to actually clean the house and pick up after myself."

I knew that he was essentially saying more than just he'll no longer have a personal servant. He was telling me that he'd miss me, and if I ever expected something like that from him, I would only imagine it being said in an indirect manner. "Yeah, I'll finally be able to have some quiet time where I won't have to clean up after you," I said getting up from the bed and messed his hair up. Translation: I'll miss you too. "Get a haircut already, your hair is getting longer than mine."

My parents were both sitting in the backyard drinking coffee when I interrupted their time alone. My mother had been crying all week, constantly near me and telling me how she'd miss me as I left. I've always been at home, and always been in arms length of her. The only time I wasn't with my family was occasionally when I went to visit my aunt in St. Louis and they couldn't come, but most of the time they accompanied me. Now me leaving wouldn't be for a couple of weeks, but years, and my mother wasn't accepting the fact gently. I think she feared I'd get myself in trouble or do something she'd never allow me to do; my aunt was much more lenient. Or maybe my mother feared I'd fall into the wrong crowd, and she wouldn't be there to pull me out and guide me in the right direction, when really, I'd been following my own path for several years now anyway.