Catch Me

Chapter 14- Ghosts from the Past

I got in my car praying that I would be able to make the trip without throwing up. My anxiety was almost too much to handle. Deep breathing and drinking water usually helped me when my past clouded my mind but right now it was all I could do to just keep my eyes open. 

Gripping the steering wheel with both hands I tried to steady myself. 

You can do this. If you survived what you went through, you can do anything. Get a fucking grip and take your life back.

I took one last deep breath and started the engine. I threw my phone in the seat next to me. I didn't need a map where I was going. It was like the address was burned into the space behind my eyes. I pulled out of my apartment complex, glancing back at the building as I got farther away, praying that it wouldn't be the last time I saw it. 

The trip was a few hours long. I settled in, listening to music trying to distract my thoughts and calm my heartbeat. I hadn't seen my house since I was 15. I had been wishing that my father was dead this entire time. And to find out that he was not only very alive, but still chasing me after all these years was horrifying. I wanted to call Walter. I wanted to tell him everything. But I knew I couldn't until I took care of this myself. 

After all, who would want a sexually used and abused ex-hooker who was hooked on drugs and was homeless. All that changed when some old lady brought me to a women's shelter. She had found me passed out on a park bench and taken pity on me. I was only 17. I looked around 14 and weighed maybe 90 pounds. She had taken me in her car to the hospital and then the women's shelter. I never knew who she was or what her name was but I pretty much owed her my life. 

Walter didn't know anything about me. He was hardly even involved in my personal life, yet my father had made him a priority simply because he was sexually involved with me. I felt guilt, guilt for allowing someone into my life and putting them in danger. Of course I had no idea that this would happen by simply expressing my feelings to Walter, but it had and it was my father who was targeting him. I wasn't a simple fling or girl for him to have. I came with so much baggage.

You should just cut it off now. My inner voice tried to convince me. 

I couldn't listen. There was a tiny part of my heart that was making it's voice heard over the doubt and self hate. I needed someone in my life. I would die alone and depressed if I kept shutting people out. I deserved one person. Just one. 

All these thoughts were clouding my mind, my clarity. As I passed the buildings of Manhattan and went farther away from the city I found myself remembering more and more about my past that I had shoved deep into my subconscious. I genuinely didn't know how I had survived any of the things I went through as a young girl and teenager. I shouldn't have made it, but knowing that also made me feel a little stronger. 

You are a survivor. You can do this. I just kept repeating that in my head, bolstering my confidence. If I didn't encourage myself now, how would I ever be able to face my old home? How would I be able to look my father in the eye and be done with this once and for all if I didn't pull that strength out of me? 

An hour passed. Then two. Then two more. Normally I would be tired on a trip this long, but the adrenaline coursing through me only pushed me to go faster. Finally I pulled up to the street. It still looked the same. A lower-middle class neighborhood. Kids playing in the yard, a man taking a dog for a walk, the corner store busy with Saturday shoppers. A jingle from an ice cream truck playing a few streets over. So mundane, so normal. Yet I felt like I was looking at the set of a horror movie. At the end of the street sat my old house. My whole childhood seemed to zip before my eyes. I parked a few houses down on a side street and looked at the property from a distance. My eyes seemed to tunnel vision towards the red door with the peeling paint. The gold doorknob somehow was still attached even with rust all around the handle. 

It started to sprinkle as a single tear fell from my cheek. It was time to face it...my past was at the end of the street, waiting for me.