Rebel

Chapter 38: Climax

"You don't have to take everything. You know that you can still lay your head here or hang out in your old room," Mom said as she helped me carry a few empty boxes up the stairs to my old bedroom. It was officially my old bedroom now. I had graduated and had a baby. In my eyes, I was officially an adult and the more time I spent at my parents' house, staring at the walls of my room, the more I came to terms with the fact that it was time to put away childish things and move on with my life. This would be like a fresh start. Of course, my mom was going to go insane because of empty nest syndrome, but it was time to close this chapter for good.

"Yes! Take everything you need so we can finally put the screen back in that damn window the right way!" Dad shouted from downstairs. "SHUT THE FUCK UP SHAWN!" Mom barked. I giggled. He was never comfortable with the fact that I could pop the screen out like it was nothing and just crawl right through the window. He was always waiting for the day that a stranger caught on and broke into the house. Mom was having a hard enough time with the decision that I made and he wasn't making it any better.

"I'm a big girl now Mommy," I said, batting my eyes sarcastically. From behind me, I could hear her sniffle. I looked over my shoulder to find the sight of her patting her eyes with a tissue. "Mom!" I shouted. "You haven't called me mommy in years," she said with her voice cracking. "I'm only moving ten minutes away," I said with a chuckle. She continued to pout and I continued to laugh. "You'll understand when Fauna gets older," she said as she patted the remaining tears from her eyes. I had a feeling that those words were going to haunt me for the rest of my life. I was already shook that I had a daughter and even though she was only a little over a month old, I was afraid of how badly my karma would come back around. That was one of the first things Mom told me about when I came out about my pregnancy. If you gave your parents hell, when your time came to have children, they would be twice as bad as you were.

"I'm sure I will. Come on, I have stuff to pack before Danny sends out a search party out to look for me." She got herself together, holding her head high as she marched down the hall to my room. "I could always hold you and Fauna hostage," she said with a wink. "I did my eighteen years. This birdie has to leave the nest," I said playfully.

I pushed the door open with my foot to find my room in the exact same condition that it had been in for as long as I could remember. Everything had remained tidy and untouched. I could tell that Mom had been organizing things in there. My books were neatly stacked from smallest to largest. My Christmas lights were neatly pinned around my window in a near perfect line. My bed was made with not a wrinkle in the bed skirt and the sheets looked like they had been pressed flat. Whenever her anxiety was tearing her apart or when she was pissed off, she would clean. I knew that this had to have happened because of what we thought was my brush with death and my graduation.

"I've got to grab a few more boxes. I'll be right back," she said as she sat down the boxes she was already carrying. When she slipped out the door, my emotions hit me like a hurricane. I took the time to take one final stroll around my room to take in the sight of everything that had a hand in my life and personality starting back when I was thirteen. An Edgar Allan Poe poster always hung right above the head of my bed. Sometimes when things would get rough, I would take to consulting with the poster to help me navigate the rocky waters of being a teenager. I always find myself saying, "What would Edgar do?" when his poems and short stories about death, darkness, and depression always seemed to be a bit counterproductive when I was fighting to get better. It seemed silly back then and it may have seemed silly now, but it brought me comfort.

The same went with curling up in bed at night with the only light in my room coming from the string of lights. The soft lighting was incredibly calming and sometimes that was the only thing that could pull me out of an anxiety attack. It was even more relaxing when I would crack open the window at night and dangle my legs while sneaking a cigarette or two. It was perfect when it came to winding down for the night. The only downside to it was the time that the tacks had fallen and I ended up getting tangled in them like a fly in a spider web when I was sneaking in one night. It didn't help that I was drunk off my ass and almost killed myself when I had to climb the tree to get to it. I was thankfully that Mom had taken to making sure they didn't fall and hang over the window.