Treasure hunt

Hunt

It has been 7 nights since they locked the back door and each night I've found myself on the marble floor. Sometimes bloodied, though more or so bruised. It's always hard waking up in a panic with more than one aching limb. The hardest was the first night. It was a few weeks after Eric. I remember waking up by dawn. Bunched up into a ball, covered in a layer of my sweat and muck and everything else. I was terrified, nonetheless. my fingers bloodied, my nails torn up. I was so empty when I'd woken up and seen my bare hands with nothing but a toy transformer. I looked around and saw the havoc I assumed I'd done to the yard. My moms lilies ripped out, the lavenders too . Small holes at every corner. Nothing made sense. I hadn't the slightest clue how I got there and the fact that I'd manage to hurt myself unconsciously sent terror down my spine. I tried to stand up only to find out that my knees were in blacks and blues. Probably from dragging them around from corner to corner. Trying to locate my misplaced guilt. I manage to get the living room, slip off my dirty nightgown and crumple onto the sofa. There was no sleep for me. Every time I'd woken up that dawn I'd find myself with my limbs sprawled on the yard. My sanity elsewhere. Little did I know that it was the beginning of something else.

I tried staying up till after 2am before so I wouldn't sleep walk but it was only worse. I'd still be there digging. Consciously. Knowing where my fingers are going but no idea where my thoughts are leading to. It was like electricity constantly coursing in my blood electrocuting my every atom. pushing down my weakest points making the worst of me, or perhaps the real me find this one thing I can't identify nor will I ever find.

I used to study in community college majoring in literature, never had friends. Well, they wouldn't last more than a year with me and I'd find myself lonely again. Its not much of an issue except that sometimes I lack the social skills. I also had a job at a library. It did well. Payed okay. I was fine except for that one night I decided to kill my brother and turn my world into hues of grey.

Most days are spent in my room with either a book in my hands or watching tv shows on netflix. But today I decided to fix myself up and actually try to have a good day. I washed my long black hair for the first time in a week and made two fishtails braids. I wore something other than sweatpants and a hoodie. Well, just kidding. I wore an olive sweater dress and black leggings. Baby steps? Later I went downstairs to help mom cook lunch. Usually, I'd just come down when they call me but its a little ungrateful for me to just exist. Mom was chopping up veg by the time I came in. I sensed her shock.

"H-hey. I thought I'd help around if thats okay" I said awkwardly.

Her eyes were still on me, and her slight wrinkles around her brows giving away her confusion. Abruptly, she turns to the chopping board and gives it a hard stare. "Okay, Can you layer the lasagna? everything is over there" She points at the other side of the kitchen. Her back still facing me. "Alright" I do what she says, quietly. My mother and I were never on good terms even before Eric, but the accident made it 10 times worse. She had tantrums where she threw plates near my head. Sometimes, by dinner, her eyes would be glassy and her tongue tied in knots. Accusations would fly past her. She'd curse at me under her breath but eventually, her face would be inches apart from me and her slurring drunken voice would echo the neighbourhood. At points, she'd lock me in my room during the day and let me out at night to do my thing. Her gardening was everything to her but I guess seeing me suffer had its sweetness. I don't hate her for that. I killed her baby boy. As far as I know I deserved more. It had gotten better later when she got depression. She'd come into my room and nestle her head on my neck. Her sobs were like lullabies to me and her tears were bullets in my lungs. She's the one that convinced my dad to take me to therapy but won't admit it.

When I finished the layers she got the cheese from the fridge and sprinkled it on the lasagna. "I'm going to therapy" she blurted out as she turned back to the vegetable she'd chopped up. Putting them in a bowl. "Oh, thats a surprise." I said, not knowing what to say.

"well, yes. I-I figured I need it. My boss thinks I need a break and your father had had enough with my mood swings" I nod. Dad is a very patient man but soon his patience will run out. I get the dressing sauce from the fridge and hand it to her, making sure I graze her hands to reassure her. "Mom, if you think its best for you then I support you for it."

She finally looks at me and smiles. Kisses my forehead. Something she rarely does. "Look at you, beautiful. You finally decided to do something with that hair" I stifle a giggle. "I thought it was finally time to give it a proper wash"

The lasagna is put in the oven, and the table set. A few small talk. but then its quiet again so I decide to ask "Same psychiatric center as me?"

"Is there any other?" She joked.

"you're right" I smiled.

"But, with your doctor. Arlo. If thats fine with you? They say he's the best and I've noticed the changes in you. Great changes in fact."

Changes? My sleep walking is just the same, maybe my will to live is a little higher. "No its okay, I don't mind"

"Great then"

Lunch was nice and smooth. My dad was surprised I'm even joking around with mom. He said something like "Oh, I miss that smile" His joy matching his face. My smiles didn't last long but every time he caught one he'd beam. 

At least thats something I could tell Arlo. Lately its just been tears and old memories of me wiping Erics ass or chasing him around the mall. Anything that twists my heart like a wet towel. He says its best if my feelings are let out. He also says I don't mention the day he was lost and thats a no-brainer. I wasn't conscious during most of it. Maybe just me vomiting all over a swing somewhere in the neighbourhood and him being nervous as hell. Maybe God is protecting me from knowing my full potential.