The Disbanders

Chapter 30: Forgiveness

I wake up to the sun blaring in my eyes, as the motel window happens to be facing east. I notice it's around 7:30 in the morning. I know I won't get back to sleep, however I don't need to.

    My state of hygiene––or lack of––becomes almost immediately apparent to me. I instantly begin to ponder how Sharon didn't say a word about it, when we were in the car together for so long. I need to shower.

    For the first time, I step into the motel room bathroom. I'm less inclined to look into the mirror right now. Slowly, I slip my watch off my wrist, then remove my dirty, tarnished clothing. As I stand on the cool bathroom tile, completely naked, I bring my shirt up to my nose and take a deep breath, smelling the campfire smoke. I regret it right away, as it brings a tear to my eye.

    The shower nosil squeaks as I attempt to loosen it and get some hot water running. I slowly step in, feeling the instant gratification of hot water at the ready. I then let myself numbly become immersed in the waterfall and have it soak my hair. I close my eyes for a moment and plug as ears, imagining myself surrounded by a hot rain. As I open my eyes again, I look down, noticing the dirt rinse off of me.

    It doesn't take me long to start using the soap. I scrub myself harder than I ever have in my entire life. My hair is the biggest challenge to clean, as it's become a rat's nest of knots and grease. Once running my fingers through it becomes easier, I smile with satisfaction. I start with small amounts of soap, before remembering that I don't need to ration my use anymore. Popping the mini body wash open, I dump the entire thing in my hand and lather every inch of my body.

    I'm reluctant to turn off the water, but once I do, I head to the fogged mirror and wipe it with a towel, only to see a new person standing within it. This girl in front of me is no longer an image of savagery and survival. This girl wants to thrive, has ambition, and knows that while it will take a long time, she will get there. The girl is me.

    After getting dressed and packing up my few belongings, I meet Sharon out in the parking lot. We grab some breakfast on the road, with some more light-hearted conversation. This car ride makes me feel much safer. I somehow feel as though it will be hard to say goodbye to Sharon once all of this is over––whatever that will even mean.

    The uncertainty of even the next few hours begins to set in once again. What will being at my old house feel like? My old town? Did I really take every part of myself with me when I ran away, or is there some of it still left?

    After about two hours, Sharon follows the highway exit to get to my town. My stomach forms a small knot as we pass the sign. I'm back somewhere I never thought I'd be again.

    "Are you okay?", she asks me. "You look pale."

    "Hm? Oh, I'm....fine," I lie. "It's just....weird being back, that's all."
    "I can imagine. Are you sure you're going to find what you're looking for?"

    "I believe so," I reply, unconcvinced of myself. "It's worth a shot. That address is the only shot I have in the real world." I feel my cheeks start to burn as I utter that. I can feel Sharon looking at me sideways. However, she keeps her mouth shut, as we drive in silence.

    We enter the main part of town, where truly I begin to see old places from my past, such as the bus station, my school, the park and the Stoneycreek Diner. The scenery of trees, the same ones I used to look at when I felt trapped here, are back in my view. I definitely see them differently now. This all seems like a weird, unsettling dream, although less scary than the nightmare I had months ago in the woods.

I guide Sharon through the wavering neighbourhood streets, bringing her closer to my old house. Finally, the most painful sight of all so far––the intersection of Prince Street and Maple Avenue, where I spent some of my final hours in this town, crying my eyes out from abandonment. However, I straighten out my mind––be strong. It's all in the past.