Ash & Dust

12| She Wasn't Ready

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ASH
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I didn't have time to dwell on Dustin's weird, spontaneous visit, and definitely couldn't spare a minute to process his bold advances. My mind was too occupied with finding the courage to do something I'd been avoiding for years now. I deluded myself into believing I could change things so that I wouldn't have to deal with the facts—that I could somehow make my reality into one that would, for once in my life, actually make me happy.

But now, I finally accepted the truth.

I had to let my mother go.

Staying this closely connected to her was unhealthy for myself and everything I wanted to do in life. It was the cause for my insomnia and depression. The number one source of my unhappiness. I wanted something so bad that I ignored the alarms and warning bells going off inside every time I went back to that stupid house...all for her. My mind, body, and soul were truly exhausted from the emotional, and sometimes even physical, trauma I'd put them through the past five years, and now it was time for all of that to stop. I needed it to.

Otherwise...I may never get out of this life.

That was why, despite the heartache I already felt the moment I made the decision to do this, I was forcing my feet down Hollow Street for what could quite possibly be the very last time. Everything that I usually saw— the prostitutes, the junkies, the dealers—they were all a timeless blur to my numbed psyche. I vaguely remembered feeling a few raindrops hit my face, causing me to instinctively pull my hood further over my head, but my attention was moreso on the ugly, rundown, terror house of my childhood, and even still, my early adult years, as it came into view.

Taking in a deep breath, I steeled my emotions, my guard up just like my father always taught me to do whenever I felt vulnerable—whenever I felt the need to protect myself. Then, I took the final steps needed, my body on autopilot, until I stood right in front of the porch steps.

"Ash," Ronnie nodded up at me. It was only then that I noticed him sitting on the top step, his rich brown skin hidden under a black hoodie, similar to the way I was wearing my pale blue one.

"Hey, Ronnie," I greeted back, my eyes drifting from him and back to the house. "Has Shai sent anyone back since I was last here?"

Discreetly looking over his shoulder before answering, he shook his head. "Nah. I mean, the usual guy comes by to collect every day, but no one's shown up to rough the ladies up since you ran Paco out of here. No tellin' how long that'll last, though."

Nodding my head, I kept looking at the front door, my feet suddenly feeling like they were weighed down by cinderblocks. A few minutes passed, filled with self doubt and second-guessing, but I told myself before I left home that I couldn't come back until I finished this. It was just becoming increasingly harder for me to fully detach myself from my mother, even if she hadn't filled that role for me for almost a decade.

"Ronnie?" I called, turning my attention back to him, only to find him already looking at me with a curious gaze.

"Everything alright?" Clearly, he could see that something was bothering me.

"Yeah...I just...After today, I'm not going to be coming around here anymore," I confessed, watching as his facial expression didn't waver from the calm one he wore. "I was hoping you could do me a favor. If you can't, it's fine, it's just...I need—"

"Ash, chill," he chuckled, standing up and walking over to me. "I've been trying to get you to let me help you since we were kids, but you've always been too damn independent for your own good. Stop beating around the bush and just tell me what's up."