Finding Home

Chapter Five

"Alright. This is it." She exclaims as she leads me to an open field. I know what you're thinking. A field, really? What's so special about flat land with plants? But the thing is, while that's exactly what it is, it's so much more than that. The ground is covered in wildflowers in every color, making it look like a canvas that somebody threw paint on. Surrounding it is the forest, so it's more of a considerably large clearing than a field, but still. It was amazing. Straight out of a fairy tale. At the perimeter of the field, you could see a family of Axis Deer, like a whole herd of them. At least I think it's Axis Deer, I wouldn't really know.

"Awesome, right?" Bailey broke the silence with a smug grin. "I told you it would be worth getting on a big scary horse for."

"Oh shut up." I laugh. "But yeah. This is pretty cool." The sunset really made it look like an enchanted scene from a kid's book.

"I'll bet you don't see stuff like this in New York. Or wherever you're from."

"Chicago, and no. We don't." I inform her. I check my watch, it's 8:32. "We should probably be getting back though. Won't it be dark pretty soon?"

"Yeah, it will. Plus, if it's too dark, you'll probably spaz out and hit your head on a branch or something." She jokes as she turns Chev around and starts walking back into the forest.

I take a quick picture of the field with my phone and turn back around. "Are you this rude to everyone or are you just targeting me?"

"Just you." She says with a grin.

"Well don't I feel special."

"You should. It's quite an honor."

We go on like this for the remainder of the ride, all the way back to the barn.

 
•••

"Alright Spazzy. Ready to turn in for the night?" She says, still energetically as she dismounts from her horse.

"Oh great. So now I have a nickname." I reply sarcastically as I cautiously get off of Shiloh. I may have ridden two or three miles into the wilderness on a horse, by that doesn't mean I'm still not scared of it.

"Well it wasn't supposed to be a nickname, but now it is." She giggles. I respond with a groan.

"Fantastic. But yeah, I'm gonna go sleep."

"Alright. Don't worry about helping me untack. I've got it." She offers.

"You sure?" I ask, even though if I stay I'll be no help whatsoever. She nods in response as she guides Shiloh and Cheveyo in.

I walk back to the house and see Mark fast asleep on the couch. Not wanting to wake him, I tiptoe to my room and quietly shut the door. As soon as my head hits the pillow, my eyes shut and I'm out like a light. Must be the jet lag.

•••

I don't remember waking up and running to the bathroom. And I don't remember my nightmares. When I finally come to my senses and realize where I am, the first thing I remember is heaving into the toilet. I sit there and retch for a good hour and a half, but nothing comes up. My internal organs have twisted themselves into separate knots that are competing in The Hunger Games, I'm absolutely sure of it. When I finally stop heaving, I lean against the wall and rub my head against my forehead. I feel a layer of cold sweat. Everything hurts. My throat, my chest, my stomach, my head. Especially my head. I've got a colossal migraine.

Visions of my mom run through my brain. As if I wasn't in enough pain already. I was sleeping. I slept while she died on the floor. Did she scream? Did she cry? Did it hurt? It must've hurt. Was it quick? These are questions I will continue to ponder, possibly forever. If only I had woken up. I would've seen her, I could've driven her to a hospital. Maybe she could've been saved. At this point I begin to sob. It's a quiet, pitiful sob. My face contorts and I cry like a baby for a good ten minutes.

When I regain control of myself, I stand up and decide I need fresh air. I return to my room and open the window. The warm night air engulfs me as I inhale heavily. The air smells like trees, where Chicago air would have smelt like car exhaust. While the clear, clean air is soothing, I miss my dirty and contaminated air. I wonder if I'll ever go back. I won't live here forever, will I? I hope not. Because at this point, I know the ranch hand better than I know my own father. That can't be a good sign. I can't believe how quickly it all changed. How much it changed. Leaving the window open, I walk back to my nightstand and pick up the picture of my mom. Her amber eyes are lit up and her smile spreads all the way to her ears. I wipe away a single tear, and expect more to come. But they never do.

Then I continue on the to the saddest thing imaginable. I pick up my phone, and dial the number of my old apartment. I sit there and listen to it ring. I have no idea what I'm expecting. I just want to do it. Of course, there's no answer.

Suddenly, I am overcome with exhaustion, so I set my phone and the photograph down and fall asleep again. This time, I stay asleep until dawn.