Just like that, the first days after rehab were hard on them. Had they been trying to stick together as much as they could, things just seemed to get in the way. Ash had to find a job, and Hayden's dad was all over her with college.
For now, Hayden was waking up in her own bed, in her own clean bright white room. Her eyes shut, she figures she could keep them that way for at least two good hours. A sound gets her on her feet though. A ring. She jumps out of bed and slides through the empty halls to the stairs to finally end at the front door.
The postman is clearly not staring at her but rather at her bare legs. He mutters something and throws the box in her hands before flying away. She doesn't bother asking herself why. Walking back into the house, she drops the box near the stairs and makes her way to the living room to choose what she will be doing today. Either read a book, boring, find her dad' safe password -been there, done that-, or just wait around to find someone to torture. Walking past the golden mirror, she checks her look. Maybe the postman ran off because she was barely dressed. Maybe he did because of the blue marks around her body.
The first person to walk in the house is Avery. Hayden raises her eyebrows, passing him on jer way to the kitchen, wondering out loud.
"Morning jog?" she says, biting in one of the hundred blueberry muffins covering the counter top in the open kitchen.
Her brother lets himself sink on one of the stools, gazing at her from where he is sitting. His lips part just a little and let out a gasp before he rises to his feet once more, almost rushing to Hayden, but he stops himself.
"What?" she bites, noticing his wide eyes.
Avery finally finds the courage to walk to her. When he reaches her small frame, though she looks fierce as hell right now, he lets his fingers fall to her left ankle. His grasp on her leg forces her to turn around so he can observe the rest of the marks staining her body.
"What the hell H?" he says, not letting go of her leg, "seriously I will kill that guy."
There is blood, dried blood; there are also bruises and scratches and it hurts now that Hayden notices. It hurts fucking bad. She gets out of his hold and goes to hide behind the counter again, acting as if nothing had just happened. She pours milk down two silver stripped bowls and slides one to her brother. He doesn't react fast enough, he doesn't move for just a few seconds. But that's enough for her to get that he's done with her shit for the day. She pours her bowl down the sink and walks back to the stairs in a fury.
***
The big bright white clean house is usually empty on school days; the twins are in high school and Ethan is in some lab back in college. But Avery is home, writing.
He is a writer. Hayden is the stain, the rubbish they had been trying to hide for years, but Avery still comes close. He used to be their parents' best hope, but now Ethan is. Avery had decided a couple years ago that he wanted his creative-self to speak for himself, so he bailed out of med school and came back to live home with a typing machine. He is kind of vintage.
So Ethan is the one going to med school now. Twenty-three, perfect grades, perfect dark-haired fiancée, Sandra, and a bright future ahead, Ethan has it all figured out. He is going to get married and have perfect little children. They will travel the world, learn about stuff teenagers still don't know about when they will be four, and have perfect little lives too. Hayden believes in early depression and suicide attempts. It won't go well, in her opinion.
***
Hayden is used to plan her day based on what she is going to do later that night: going to Ash's place and staying there until they fight, beat the shit out of each other, and then make up. She stares at the ceiling from the floor where she had been lying for over an hour now, and wonders about her day today. She did nothing. She spots the black mark above her door. It's thin, but dark; useless, but unbearable. You could see it if you did care enough, if you really cared about that white-clean-bright ceiling, you would notice THE FUCKING BLACK mark on it. She believes nobody cares, they never did.
YOU ARE READING
Settle Down
Romance"She came and it was two in the morning. She'd been crying. She started screaming in my backyard. She was yelling for me to let her in while I had never met her before. Mate, she was nuts. She wore that fucking purple dress. You know, the dark one...
