For Our Broken Hearts (Book 2)

Chapter 1

You know how they say home is where the heart is? Well if that's so true then my heart is in a cemetery rotting with the corpse of my dead mother. It definitely wasn't in Lakeshore. But this is what I told my Doctor in our very last consultation. I was going to be discharged today. After a year of swallowing my agony following Rolan's relocation, I had finally convinced my new Doctor, Theresa Anderson, to send me home.

I was the last left of my other two friends. Sam was the first to be released 6 months ago. She was taken by her family as they were moving away to Europe. Lennie didn't take this very well. She spent many nights in my room crying. She hid this very well when she needed to which allowed her to be released two months after. She wrote to me a lot, telling me she missed me and that she and Sam were making it work. I didn't write back. It was something I couldn't bring myself to do. Writing was a bitter activity stored away with the memory of Dr Gaines.

My father met me in the lobby that afternoon. He smiled as I approached him. Mind you, I hadn't seen or spoken to my father in more than a year. And I have no memory of him smiling at me. I said nothing as he pulled me into an awkward hug. We had never hugged at this age. Or any age after mom passed away. He took my things and walked me out to his car. I tried not to question his new found kindness and focused more on the truth that I'd be returning to a place I left so long ago.

There was a heavy silence that fell between us for most of the car ride. It wasn't until we drove pass the area where Stanley Studios once stood, now replaced by a cooperate office building named "Opticon", that he turned to me and said, "Excited to be back?" in a tone so chipper I had to look him dead in the eyes to make sure it was my father and not some driver he sent to get me.

I nodded skeptically.

As we drove into the community, I took a deep sigh that I must have been holding the whole time. The houses had all gotten fresh coats of paint, there were a lot of people walking around with their kids and dogs that I didn't recognize, and street signs were redone. It was the same but everything looked made up in anticipation of my arrival, as if my father had paid them off to be better versions of themselves. This wasn't far fetched as my father, as I remember clearly, found pleasure in flaunting his money to get people to do things they didn't want to. But I knew that in this case it was just my raging paranoia and fear of being back that caused these irrational impressions of the place I grew up. I could predict the awkward interaction I'd have with people who would question where I've been and why I was there for over a year. Especially now that I'd be going back to school in two days. I'd have to be coached by Daddy Dearest on what rich lie I was to tell them.

As I got out the car I looked over at Abriana's house and momentarily wondered if she still lived there. I looked away quickly though, feeling sick thinking about her. My father volunteered to take my luggage up to my room where he placed it down, took a look around as if trying to digest my assured presence and then left. I was happy for the privacy.

Everything was just as I had left it, even the imaginary chalk outline of my body I had mentally conjured up mocked me in retrograde. It screamed, "Welcome back you selfish bitch!"

I took a seat on the edge of my bed and stared at the area where I had passed out from my overdose. I didn't feel anything except a strange sadness from missing Burkley. I suppose this is what it feels like to be institutionalized. I laid back and stared at my ceiling until I eventually dozed off. It was a dreamless nap.

Yes, I had many nightmares of the day I had laid passed out on the floor of this very room. Rolan hovering over me this time in great distress instead of Abriana.

Yes, I had very much missed him. I wondered constantly how he was and where he was and what he was doing and if he missed me too. It was a long year following his relocation. But it was a year over which I learned how to accept loss to an extent I never understood before. In the beginning it was hard, especially at nights, to embrace losing someone who is still alive.

I had experienced it with Abriana but not as intimately. I understood the logic behind her actions and knew deep down that her hand was forced. With Rolan, I did the same thing I did with my mother...blame myself. It took five months to stop waking up in pools of my own tears. I had hoped he would write to me or that the lobby would call me down for a call. But that never happened. I just hoped he was happy. One of us needed to be happy and it wasn't going to be me.

I woke up later that evening to the sound of a child playing. I got up and went to look. It was a little girl running around with her mother chasing her. I stood there in a painful awe. The memories of my mother and I playing on Sunday evening like this were distant and blurred. The little girl eventually stopped running and let her mother catch her. She lifted her high into the air before bringing her close and kissing her temple. I could see the love and utter happiness radiating off them. They walked toward what I assumed was their house, next door to my own. I watched them until I couldn't see them anymore, lost behind the trees of their backyard.

I should have fucking stayed at Burkley.

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Chapter 1 is complete! Please make sure to read "For My Aching Soul" by Jada Bender before you read this. Don't forget to vote, comment and share with your friends.
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