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The Unknown

Chapter Two-

Starring out my little passenger window I notice how drastically the landscape has changed. It went from luscious trees and green grass  to cactus and mounds of dirt. This didn’t look like the usual route to the group home I was always stationed at in between families. Henry and Sherry must have stopped and switched off somewhere along the way because Sherry’s bobbing her head and letting out little snores now and then while Henry stared straight ahead at the road as if expecting it to move or a mountain lion to jump out any second.

“Hey, Henry, where are we? This doesn’t look like it used to and I-“

“Oh, Sherry didn’t tell you?” Henry interrupted, throwing a quick glance to the back seat over his shoulder.

“Um…”I pause, expecting him to take the hint and fill me in, but he didn’t. So I continue, “No, tell me what?”

“Oh, well let’s see here, how did she put it? Ah, yes. Your last group home got shut down.”

He said it so plainly. No emotion, no sympathy, just nothingness.

“Oh, okay…” was all I could manage to say before sinking back into my chair.  No one told me. No one even bothered to call me, or anything. They left without any warning.

            Just like everyone else, I thought.

“Hey there, why the long face? Didn’t you hear? Sher here said she would take you in,” He said, with a twinge of something in his voice that I can’t quite decipherer.  

“Really?” I’m shocked, I mean I knew Sherry and I were close(ish) but I never knew she would take me in like this.

“Well, yeah, until we find you another home. Of course.” Said so nice, even a little side smile, as if Henry figured I  already knew that little detail.  There’s always that ‘until’ that gets in the way of my happiness.

I laugh and mock Henry under my breath, “Well of coarse… ha ha ha.”

I’m so tired of this shit I could just die. I am a human being with feelings. Someone or something made me, whether it’s on purpose or not. Ya, I’m not perfect, but hey- I’m here. I’m not going anywhere, not like those fucking weaklings who end up killing themselves, or slitting their wrists open. Not a funny concept or subject. I hate that in school, those “emo” people. They have no idea what pain is. I know what it’s like, suicide I mean. I’ve been there, up close and personally.  My mother killed herself when I was 5 years old. Left a note; a note I can never forget. After that my father lost it, blamed the whole thing on me.

“Itsssss, it’s all your fault Bailey!!! Before you…” He pointed at me in a drunken slur; the sick bastard couldn’t even get my name right. “Before you she was fine! Now look at her!” He would then grab her ash canister and just sit in her old rocking chair in the nursery crying. Went through years of therapy, told that lady more things about myself then I wish to admit. The things I swore I would never tell anyone.  You see, after my mother left, my father went back to his old LA habits with the heroin, and alcohol. When he was clean and sober, could be the caring most optimistic father around. But once those drugs set in, man forget it. Stop thinking about this stuff Hailey, I told myself. Remembering what my therapist had told me about rehashing on old memories. It was no use. Everything came flooding back. All the pain, all the hurt. The good memories seemed to vanish.  My head started to hurt, bad like. And suddenly everything went black.

“HAILEY!” Distantly I hear a voice, and try to open my eyes. But all I see is a blur of lights and out of shape figures. Voices are shouting at me, calling out ‘Hailey’. I feel my body shaking, or being shaken. I can’t tell the difference. I’m gone again, nothing is there. Just me, or am is it me? Maybe this is what death feels like. Opp, no more thoughts Hailey. Bye bye.