Meet You At Home

Home Is Where the Heart is

When you're at the same place about a thousand times, it's hard to remember which memory belongs to which night. We'd been to the beach so many times that year, I couldn't separate in my mind one beach night from the next. It had all blurred together into a single memory of sandy skin, the image of the sea in the dark of night, and games upon games of truth or dare. But that night? That night I remember every little detail. I'll never be able not to.

I remember the white and red bikini I was wearing, the one I had bought at the beginning of the year, but was so over worn by that night it was barely holding together anymore. I've thrown it out since; but not because it was worn. I remember the shade of blond that Parker had her hair highlighted with that month. I remember it was cool out, because the cold of the sand would hit you right to your bones when your feet would break into the wet of it. I remember the smell in the air, the wet concrete from the jogging path behind us, the salty sea on our other side.

I break away from being back to that night on the beach, and realize again where I really am. I'm here, sitting in a room with a Doctor that's been staring at me for quite some time. Well, more like studying me. Like someone could really understand the feelings that go along with that night. I could tell her what happened, and she could tell me how I'm supposed to feel about it, but it won't change what's happened. Nothing can change what happened.

"Why don't you start with telling me what your life was like before the accident?" She asks me, leaving me wondering if she heard my thoughts on this whole psychiatry matter.

I reciprocate the borrowing look she's giving me, and I study her. She's a tall and curvy woman, with her hair tucked tightly behind her head, only her pin straight bangs breaking free from being tied away, they sat neatly above round dark eyes. The ruby lipstick she was wearing popped against her dark skin.

I shift in my chair, breaking our unwavering gaze. I guess I could tell her about my life before the accident, it's not too hard to talk about that. It was such an ordinary life I used to lead. Ordinary. That used to be such a bland word to me. But now, now it's like the mysterious and intriguing woman who pays you no attention. Now it just seems so unattainable.

"How old were you?" Dr. Kelly prompts.

"I was 17. It was the last year of high school."

"And where did you live?"

"I lived in a small town..."

You know those tiny towns you pass by in a couple minutes when you're on your way to somewhere else? Well my town was the even smaller place tucked behind one of those places that you'd never even know was there. Everyone knew everybody else. Everyone knew what was going on in your life, your parents life, your neighbor's life. There were no secrets in Topia.

My life before the accident, and my life after the accident, were polar opposites. I still think of that life fondly, though. My mom and dad giggling by the coffee maker in the morning. My twin brother Jackson and I having our secret conversations across the dinner table. It was all so... normal.

"You're quiet today." Nolan says shaking my shoulder and looking me in the eye quickly before returning his gaze to the road.

I come to and look up at his smiling brown eyes that keep darting from me to the road, waiting on an explanation.

Nolan was always beautiful. Well, to me he was. We moved into town when I was 6 years old, I remember him walking into the classroom with his long golden hair, big brown eyes that almost looked black, beauty marks on his face as if they had been carefully placed in just the right spots. Mrs. Martins assigned him to the desk across from mine. I sometimes wonder if we would still be best friends, if he wasn't placed by my desk that day. I think so, though. I think we would have realized some other way just how much we loved each other's company.