Counting Sheep

Chapter 37

Hello, my beautiful readers! I have been going through a rough spot lately, but I wanted to at least get this short chapter out to you guys. I am thinking there will be one more chapter and then the epilogue or maybe just the epilogue (if so it would be an extra long epilogue)! We will see how it works out! I love you all so much. xoxo -Hannah<3

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Chapter 37:  Time... It seems to past so slow when in reality it goes by so fast you don't even realize it.

Julian stood outside of the house where he had previously had the happiest memories of his life, where he had lived and laughed with his mother, where she had screamed and cried, begged for her life.

Where he had found the woman he loved close to death.

It had been a week since Layla woke up and he didn't want to leave her at all, much less to come here.

He didn't want to go in....but he knew he had to.

He clutched his old small teddy bear in his hand along with the pearls of his mother that Layla had given him that one day she and Hazel had gone to the house.

Taking in a deep breath, Julian opened the small iron gate small flashbacks going on in his mind, of his little fingers swinging on the gate, of his bare feet hitting the cement that led to the front porch.

Now it was big boots that hit and fell with a clunk.

He came to the front door, throat working as he slowly turned the doorknob and entered. Antonio had everything cleaned up and it looked relatively normal...hiding the evil that these walls had seen, the screams they had heard, the deaths they had soaked up like a sponge soaks up water.

His stomach was turning, but he made his way through the front room, past the area his mom was murdered and stopping at the closet.

The closet.

His large fingers trembled as he gently ran them along the doorframe, the place as small and as tight as he had remembered.

His jaw worked as he slowly breathed in through his nose. "Goodbye." He whispered.

Walking past, he went into the kitchen area, fingers going over the countertops as he remembered how his mom would cook and bake, even though it never went well. He smiled at the memory and walked past, going out the screen door, his mind flashing to when his mother would skip down the steps, the door swinging and creaking behind her. The smile that was always on her face.

Dead leaves and long pieces of grass crunched under his boots as he walked through the backyard to the plot of moonflowers next to the bench he and his mother sat on during late summer evenings.

Now, years later, he sat down on it...this time grown and alone. He was sure his mom was here in some way, though.

She did always love her garden, would spend hours out in it. He would remember walking out, finding her on her hands and knees, a soft smile on her face as she hummed to herself, short blonde curly hair glowing in the setting sun.

Almost like it would now, if only she were here.

His heart ached.

If only... He started to dwell on that.

On what his life would have been like if she had gotten them away from this world that next day. If they had packed up, drove all day and all night, to a place where there was only good happy things coming.