Bleed Until You Heal

25- Forgotten Memories

The old house stands in front of us looking dark and taunting. It looked just like a distant memory when I'd seen it only looking from the tree house or from Scott's house just next door but now that I'm on the front porch of the dark brown house, I feel like it has the ability to swallow me whole.

Sienna looks unsettled as well, but she still bravely stands forward and pushes the doorbell. I don't look at the house, I turn and look at Scott's house instead. Inside of that house, Penn is waiting for us with Annabelle and Bennett. Scott is in there too along with his mother, who doesn't mind showing Penn how we do hospitality here in Georgia. I wish that I was over there right now, drinking coffee and listening to gossip about Scott's childhood from his mother instead of over here.

I'm broken out of my thoughts when the door swings open and a woman who looks to be in her fifties opens the front door.

"May I help you?" She asks us with a polite smile spreading across her wrinkling face.

"Yes. Hi, my name is Sienna and this is my sister, Jo," Sienna starts to explain, sounding calm and professional. I have no idea how she's doing that. "We used to live here a long time ago and we were wondering if we could just have a look around the house. To see if it's like how we remembered it. We're friends with the Pearsons next door."

"Oh, of course, dear, come on in," The woman ushers us into the house and I almost feel like I'm going to throw up. The familiar essence of the living room makes me want to forget about this whole thing, to let Sienna explore this part of our past by herself, but I don't. I stay brave. Glancing over at Sienna, she doesn't even look affected at all. I'm sure it's just an act but I wonder how she's pulling it off so well. "My name is Shirley. We bought the house a while back from a Jerry Mast. Did you know him?"

"He was our father," Sienna responds. "It looks like it's barely changed."

Instead of blank walls, there are family pictures all over the place- Shirley looks like a grandma by the looks of all of the baby pictures on the walls and on top of the fireplace. The coffee table is new but the walls are the same crème color that they used to be. The carpet is the same. The ceiling fan is the same. The couch is different, a maroon velvet-looking couch instead of the black leather one that used to sit there.

"We never minded how the house looked," Shirley explains. "So we never changed it much. Can I get you two anything? Coffee?"

"We're okay," Sienna answers for both of us.

"Alright, well I'll show you around," She offers and then she walks from the living room to the kitchen. Even the countertops are the same. I glance out the window in the kitchen where I have the view of the tree house. I was always on the other end of this view- looking into the kitchen from the tree house- the tree house looks so small from over here.

I know that my father is dead but just being here in the house, it makes me feel like there's somebody right behind me, ready to attack. That shiver of fear runs down my spine and I feel paranoid that around any corner, he's going to be there, locking us in closets, hitting us, cursing at us. Similar to the fear one feels going through a haunted house, like something is about to pop out at you.

I remember seeing him in this kitchen so many times, looking in from the tree house, hitting my mother or my sister, screaming at them, pulling them by their hair or shoving them against the counter. Sometimes, I'd even see him in here with another girl. Not hitting her or screaming at her, but kissing her. I didn't understand what was happening back then but I know now that he'd sleep with younger women and although my mother knew about it, she wouldn't even try to stand up to him about it considering how terrified she was of him.