Hold On We're Going Home

Chapter Eight

Two weeks later

"Ms. Dwight, breakfast's ready," the brush almost fell onto the carpet, beckoning her to stop doing whatever she wanted since last week.

Her fingers were untangling the locks, camouflaging her sorrow from the morning sun.

The curtains overstated the world--anything hidden beyond the houses would diminish by itself, just like her pain.

She overused that statement; that it would grow out of her and disappear at the right time.

"Coming," the word tumbled out easily. Stephanie stood by her vanity, engraved by how pale her features were. She's gone, or moreover consumed by the guilt under her skin.

She had trusted him enough to liberate, but he refused, he always did. "Steph?"

The door unlocked from the dusty pane, lighting up her entrance, "They're here," her nanny said. Turning from the mirror, the twisted smile played along her hips.

"Really? Such a wonderful day, Georgia. I can't wait to see them. Could you please prepare--,"

"They only want you now,"

"But I haven't--,"

"Stephanie! Where are you, dear?!" it echoed down the hallways and had always become a menace to those who overlooked it, "Coming, mom,"

"See? Now why don't you go down? It'll be okay to wear it," Georgia pointed to the nightgown which still clung onto Stephanie's body. Just before Georgia left her room, her house phone rang, pricking the wall apart. They were just meters away, but her mom's rules had stuck for ages.

She looked around the room--the satin quilt which draped over the cot was left untangled. She didn't have the heart to fix it.

Her knuckles had turned white when she burst out the door to the dining room.

The stairs creaked under her feet, protested whatever weighed on her was holding her back, the second she saw her mom waltzing from the kitchen. She never stood a chance to face her in the eyes, and it had actually enlightened in a way she pursued the most.

She continued her pace reaching the dining room before her mom went off somewhere. "Hey mom," the adrenaline came rushing through her veins. She had wanted to explain.

Georgia sent her a teasing look, closing her thoughts for a short moment before talking to her mom, "We need to talk," she faked a cough.

She tried to balance herself against th chair, only to find her topple over her nervousness.

"Let me explain something first," Karen declared. The casserole slid from her hands onto the table--the gesture reappeared at the back of Stephanie's mind. It had been too long to see her old sign, away from the sunmer home's dramas.

The gaze burnt through Stephanie's pale features, blocking her point of view once again. "I know what h has done to you, dear,"

"Mom--,"

"Honestly, I didn't regret having it on my own. I didn't regret carrying it the whole week. The hazy parts you could never leave behind; they always stay. They stay and they're the ones that carry you away. I don't care, Stephanie,"

Sitting down meant only one thing; her mom sought for mercy, for her stupid oversights the past years.

"But Mom, please I--,"

"Listen to me, young girl!" she silenced everyone with her fists, "Do what you have to do. Even though she died inside, you should know tha regretting it will make you suffer to death. Oh, I'd been there. I'd been in whatever state you are,"

She took off her golden rings, tossed them across the table. They clang against the white cloak, glimmered against the sun, "You know what happened to your stupid sister. Honestly, she's the one who's wrecked, not you,"

"I'm fine, Mom. It's just...it has been my fault she died. If I hadn't screamed for Nathan, she would hace been fine too,"

Georgia took off from the dining room into the kitchen. Her blouse crumpled a little from sitting too much--Stephanie could feel her chest ripping apart, pulling off every string she had left, already listening to their heavy heartbeats as first thing in the morning.

"You go wash yourself," her mom positioned herself to eat while calling Georgia to prepare the gracious dishes. Stephanie looked at her mom again before stomped out the room.

She untied her dusty pink nightgown, arriving at her Victorian bedroom, glanced out at the windows before she hopped into the shower she had always cried on. No shoulders this time. She loosen her memories of two weeks ago which had been penetrating every single aspect of her life.

The memoir of Ms. Dwight, she evoked. Within weeks, the bond between them started to sprint toward peace they unconsciously wanted to.

She bared herself for the worst--the stretch mark still perfectly whittles under her stomach--this one edging toward a whole new level.

Hell, if she'd like to have. Just as she prepared her bath routine, the mirror stood closer exposing her olive skin. "Congratulations," her fingers running down the reflection appeares to be the only way to release the pain.

Speaking of pain, her mom's words now repeated in her mind. How could she have never regretted it? Kevin had been such a disaster to their family. Absurd as it was, she had swallowed more than a dozen of glasses the whole month, staging until the end which Stephanie's father wouldn't save one last glance for her mom.

She rested her back against the cold marble, staring blankly at the wall. The air heaved her mind toward Nathan.

Casually, she would've pinned the phone to her hand all day long, explaining today's plans to her best friend, and he would've mimicked her tone between letters. She reached across the room, unlocked the tinted windows, trying to block out the claustrophobic feeling she unconsciously had created.

Just as the windows creaked under her touch, a voice pulled her closer, wondering where it came from. "I know you're here," somehow the grasses couldn't be greener and the universe couldn't push her luck.