Water & Flame

Valeria

Day 176-

Here's what therapists don't warn you about after you find your older brother dangling from a noose: you will have a long-lasting fear of rope. I'll give the vultures some credit, I was well informed about the nightmares, the lingering glances that would be full of pity, and the instances when I would forget he was dead, just for a moment, before being drenched with a cruel wave of reality all over again. But, that doesn't change the fact that I can't even wear shoes with laces anymore. And, if I'm going to be forced to spend an hour with them three times a week, the least they can do is make it easier for me to wear my favorite red Converse.

"Valeria," my mother's terse voice stops my pen in its place. "Is now the time to be doodling? The scenery is absolutely stunning." I roll my eyes as I slam my journal shut and turn to gaze at the expansive evergreen prairies that lay as a foreground to the towering tree-covered mountains in the distance. When I started writing in the black moleskine I found in Milo's room a week after he died, I told my mother that I was using it to draw so she wouldn't try to read my writing. Or worse, tell the vultures about it. Who knows what they would say if they got their hands on my little black book. And, so far, the strategy has worked. Even if it still bothers me that she didn't remember how much I loathed art class in middle school.

    My eyes glaze over as I stare out the window of my mother's black Lexus, watching as the scenery melds into one long, never-ending smear of green. The sea of green consumes me for a long while, until I see the horse. The large white stallion stands tall in the edge of a large grazing field, under a single oak tree which casts a blanket of shade over the animal. My eyes flick across the field, scanning, to quickly discover the stallion is all alone. Suddenly, an overwhelming sense of longing engulfs me. There's nothing I crave more than to be left completely and utterly alone, so I can think, write, and just breathe. But with my mother always watching to make sure I don't crumble and the damn vultures analyzing everything I do or say, the only time I have to myself is when my mother locks herself in her room at night to cry until sunrise.
    "Are you excited to see the new house?" Mother breaks up the internal pity-fest I was throwing for myself.    

    "Sure."

    She sighs at my clipped tone, "It's for the best Valeria, you know it is."

    "Do I? Because I'm quite certain that I don't think leaving our whole lives in Denver and moving to a small town in North Carolina is what is for the best, Mother."

    "Valeria Alinta Suarez," I roll my eyes at the sound of my full name, "do I need to pull this car over?"

    "Actually, yes. You do." My mother raises her eyebrow in surprise. "How else am I going to hitchhike home?"

    "You could've stayed," her statement causes my brows to knit together in confusion, "I gave you permission to stay with Alejo." I grimace at the mere sound of my father's name.

    "I don't speak to him, what made you think I would've lived with him?" My voice now quiet.

    "I'm still waiting for you to explain what happened between the two of you last year."

    "And you'll get an explanation."
    "I will?"

    "Yeah," I sigh, turning my attention away from my mother's hopeful expression to look out the window. "When pigs fly in a frozen Hell."

✢ ✢ ✣

        I hastily slam the car door shut behind me, barely giving my boyfriend, Cade, a wave as I turn towards the towering apartment building in front of me.
    "Need me to pick you up later, babe?" Cade calls out through the lowered car window. I don't pause as I head towards the entrance of the building.