nineteen.

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                LIFE COULDN'T GET worse. Well, Lindy supposed that she could have keeled over dead and maybe then life would haven't gotten significantly harder for her, but even as she sat confined to her room, staring at her walls, she was beginning to think that death would be of higher quality than this.

July had finally ended and the month of August swept in, bringing rain and bleak skies that seemingly matched Lindy's mood. For several weeks she had been on house arrest, unable to leave or contact anyone on the outside.

Lee monitored her carefully. She was only allowed to have her door closed for five minutes a day and that was merely to change clothes. The landline phone was off limits and even in the night, Lindy didn't dare try to creep downstairs to phone Kurt or Trae.

She had not heard from any of them since the morning that she and Kurt had been caught. She'd hoped, prayed to God actually, that they all had drawn their own conclusions and guessed that Lee had barred her from contacting them. Her ignorance of them was not by choice.

And worst yet, school was approaching fast. In two weeks, Lindy would be required to present herself at UW to register in her dormitory and move in. A lump grew in her throat every time she considered the possibility that she'd never show up.

It terrified her to tell Lee the truth. She could have told him then and there, announced that she was leaving in days and would never return, but she feared the worst. Would he physically stop her from leaving?

And on top of those worrisome thoughts, Lindy imagined the sort of horrible wrath Lee might unleash on Trae once he discovered that he had funded Lindy's way to school. He'd no doubt be outraged, especially over the fact Trae had gotten his hands on even just a dime of the money their mother had left behind. Lindy felt sick at the thought of Lee ruining Trae's life, or potentially hurting him . . .

As a last ditch effort to soothe her fears, she'd smoked the few remaining cigarettes she owned, careful to blow the smoke out of her open window so Lee would not smell it. Even this could not calm her down, and as she rested her elbows on the windowsill, puffing away on each cigarette until it burned down to her fingertips, she felt dread.

Around noontime one day, Lindy made her way downstairs, her arms folded tightly over her chest. She'd been wearing the same thermal long sleeve for weeks — a long sleeve that had belonged to Kurt — and refused to wear anything else. It was baggy and loose, already giant on Kurt, so naturally even bigger on Lindy.

Lee was at the kitchen table, the daily newspaper propped in his hands as he scanned the columns. Lindy soundlessly entered the kitchen, searching for something quick to eat so she wouldn't have to address his presence.

"I'm just letting you know now, we'll have to go over to Grays Harbor to get you all registered for the semester," Lee announced, never taking his eyes away from the newspaper.

Lindy didn't respond as she opened the fridge, feeling a sickening twist in the depths of her stomach. She always knew her father would take away her life.

"And you're not going alone, so don't even ask," Lee added spitefully.

Once again, Lindy remained quiet, nodding her head in a fast jerking motion before hurrying out of the kitchen with a container of apple sauce.

As soon as she crossed the threshold into her room, she cupped her hand to her mouth, hoping to muffle the sound of the cries that finally overcame her.

_________


Three days. Three more days until Lindy was supposed to move away to Seattle. The time had finally arrived, but still, she was hopeless.

IN THE SUN ↝ kurt cobainWhere stories live. Discover now