False Enemies

Chapter 2

Holding more bags than seemed physically possible, I wobbled up the driveway, then somehow rolled up the stairs. I got stuck in the doorway and had to pass it sideways since I didn't fit with all the extra weight hanging on me. I was surprised neither of my parents commented on the amount of stuff I'd brought. Hannah nearly chocked snorting at the sight of the equipment I was taking home. I explained it with the fact that my parents have put up with my crap for eighteen years in comparison to Hannah, who has only spent one year with me so far. I guessed they've gotten used to my ideas by now.

Since there wasn't much space in the hall, I decided to bring the stuff straight to my room. The walk up the stairs resembled Jesus's Way of the Cross but I've managed to reach the first floor somehow. Pressing the handle with my elbow and pushing the door open with my foot, I stumbled inside my old room, grateful the door opened to the inside. I dropped the bags as soon as I crossed the threshold, then plopped down onto my bed heavily. The sensation of sinking into the soft mattress surprised me – I've already gotten used to my much harder bed back in the dorm. I've forgotten how sleeping here felt like lying on a cloud.

My gaze involuntarily darted around the room. It crawled up the cement-colored walls, across the wooden furniture painted white and the commode I once doodled on with a black marker because I felt like it. It got hung up on the photos hanging from a string in the corner and the warm Christmas lights woven in between them. It flew past the posters on the walls and the rock bands on them, contrasting with the otherwise neutral interior. And finally, eventually, it paused on the framed picture standing on the nightstand. There it stayed. Lingered. Narrowed.

And then my hand reached forward and toppled the frame over, hiding the photo from view. The glass hit the wood with enough force to shatter but I didn't check it if had. I hoped it would, actually. Anything and everything not to have to look at it.

Jumping once on the extremely soft comforter, I sighed. There were so many memories haunting this room. Every picture, every trinket, every poster – all the odds and sods had their own personal story I connected to a memory from the past. Coming in here was like visiting a museum – you knew every exponent was real but felt too detached to feel about it in any way. You went around and looked at the stuff exposed in the glass cabinets but eventually passed it without much thought and forgot what was there in the first place. That was exactly how I felt now, sitting in my old room, looking at my old things. Like it wasn't me they belonged to. Like I have been a completely different person leaving here a year ago than I was now. Like someone had brought me here and told me to take everything in and feel something but all I could feel was the distance between me and the memories.

The main problem was, that room belonged to Lily. And I went by Rose now. The color of the walls, the drawings on the dresser, the people on the photos – everything except for the bands on the posters that I still listened to – belonged to Lily. It was foreign to Rose. It was foreign to me.

"Everything is as it was," A voice coming from the doorway startled me. I jostled, lifting my head and spotted Mom standing in the doorway. "We haven't touched anything," She added.

"I can tell," I sent her a small smile. It wasn't like I was going to do an inspection but from what I've seen, everything was really just like I'd left it a year ago. Even the sheets were the same, if I remembered correctly.

"I washed them," Mom said, seeing me inspecting the comforter. "But yes, they're the ones that were here then."

I nodded, running my hand over the dotted pattern. Man, it felt like the time had stopped the moment I walked out this door a year ago.

Silence swelled between us. I felt the pressure build, crowding the room, pressing in on my shoulders. Dozens of unanswered questions hung between us, begging to be asked. I expected the biggest one any second now, the one that was going to force me to explain why I'd run off two years ago and have returned ever since. Up until now, at least.