Wild Girl ✔️

chapter 5: home

Rose

I eyed the heap of shirts resting on my bed. How many does one pack when spontaneously moving to the middle of nowhere for an undecided amount of time?

Ten, I decided. Ten shirts would do.

I stuffed the clothes into the luggage sitting on my bed. The rest of my belongings were packed neatly inside with the photo of Caleb and I resting on top. The only thing left to do was ...leave.

Well, that and break the news to my mother.

I had decided that even though she didn't deserve an explanation, even though her behaviour towards Caleb's death was enough to make me want to get out of this house, I should still at least notify her before she walked into my bedroom one morning and saw it nearly empty.

Would she even care? The thought crept into my mind. It was sad that I didn't have a definite answer.

Hauling my luggage off the bed, I rolled it to the front door and waited — waited for my mother to arrive home from work so I could break the news to her that I had decided to leave life behind for a few weeks.

That was all I needed: a few weeks. Two months tops. Once my heart stopped feeling like someone dragged a knife through it, I would return home and welcome my old life back with open arms.

Well, semi-open arms.

I sat on the couch, my heart beating too quickly in my chest as I planned out how I would tell my mother that her only child was, essentially, abandoning her. Regardless of the approach, she would undoubtedly freak out and find a way to make this all about her and how selfish I was being— typical.

I wished my father hadn't died when I was ten. I wished he was still here to care for me, to tell me the cheesy advice he was spiting out like bible versus. When Caleb died, my father would have known just the words to keep my heart afloat. Instead, I had my mother — the woman whose hugs could freeze raindrops.

Maybe that was why I didn't hesitate to give Caleb every single piece of me. I had been deprived of love for so long that my heart was running on empty. When Caleb offered to fill it, to patch up every hole and crevice ... How could I say no?

Caleb. I winced as the knife dug a little deeper into my heart.

Novels could be written about the memories we had shared on this couch alone.

And that was the exact reason why I had to get the hell out of here.

My head snapped to the door as I heard a key turn. My heart was beating like a freight train as the door creaked open and my mother walked through.

Her eyes instantly went to the luggage before meeting mine.  "What is this?" She demanded.

"Mother," I began, sitting up slowly. "Let me explain."

She hung up her coat, her movements robotic. When she turned to me, a familiar ice was in her eyes.

"Where are you going, Rose?" Her voice sounded strained, like she was trying her hardest not to explode.

I walked around the couch hesitantly and stood before my mother, my eyes begging. "Caleb died, Mom. I can't be here right now."  When she didn't respond, I continued. "I feel like the memories are suffocating me. I can't breathe. I can't sleep. I can't think. Everywhere I look is a reminder of his life and I just ... " A tear slid down my cheek. "I feel like I'm fading into myself and soon there will be nothing left."

A silence stretched on between us. I wrapped my arms around my waist, fighting off the sudden chill creeping into my bones. The verdict hung in balance. I waited for my mother to open her mouth and demand I unpack my belongings.