Total pages in book: 101
Estimated words: 93453 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 467(@200wpm)___ 374(@250wpm)___ 312(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 93453 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 467(@200wpm)___ 374(@250wpm)___ 312(@300wpm)
She sits on it, not like she was lying down yesterday. No, today she’s sitting, holding her knees to her chest as she lays her head on them. The bottle of whiskey sits beside the swing. It’s exactly where it was this morning when I took off. My feet move before I have a chance to think about why I’m even here.
She must hear me walking toward her because her head comes up, and I see her glare. “What the fuck are you doing here?”
Chapter Twelve
Autumn
I listen to the sound of crickets chirping nearby, the taste of whiskey on my lips as I lick them. I wonder if I should take another pull of the bottle. It’s been a fucking day and a half, to say the very least. I got home and immediately took a hot bath, hoping it would make it somewhat better, but it didn’t. Walking outside and seeing the bottle of whiskey beside the swing was a sign I should drink my sorrows away. So I took a couple of pulls and the tears fell, freely. I replay the day, starting with the shit with Charlie to the letter and then running into Mrs. Cartwright.
I was adamant to my brother and my father that I wasn’t going anywhere. I was being as brave as I could be in their eyes, but the minute I got home and was able to let it out, I did. This is my home and where I want to be, but it doesn’t mean it is easy for me. It also doesn’t mean that I belong here. Maybe I don’t, and perhaps I’m just dragging out the inevitable, but I’m not going anywhere for the moment. Doesn’t mean I wouldn’t like to crawl in a hole and just bury my head. Doesn’t mean it isn’t killing me a little staying here. Little do they know how I’m breaking inside more and more. I thought there was nothing left to break. I must have been wrong.
I hear the rustling of leaves and look up, his eyes on me as he walks toward me. All I can do is glare at him. In another fucking T-shirt that molds to his chest, and now that I know what is under it, my hands itch to touch him. His jeans hang on to his hips as he walks toward me. “What the fuck are you doing here?” I put my feet down and wipe the tear away, but another one joins it. “You have got to be fucking kidding me,” I say louder, my voice almost echoing in the quiet night. “Can you, for fucking once, just let me be?” He stops in front of the railing, and I walk over to it, putting my hands on it and spreading them on the railing. “Like, just let me fucking be.” I can’t help the tears that come down my face. “I get it, you hate me. Trust me, I get it. But can you fucking for once just go away and let me be?” I again don’t wait for him to say anything. “This is the only place I can fucking breathe.” I lift my hand to my house. “It’s my safe space. Leave me to my fucking safe space, Charlie.” I take a deep inhale. “Please just leave me to my fucking safe space.” I start to walk away. “You can spew all your hate in the street like everyone else does,” I say softly, “you don’t have to come to my house to do it.”
I take one step forward when he speaks, “What did she tell you?” I close my eyes, not surprised he heard about the scene in the middle of Main Street.
I turn in my spot. “Why do you fucking care?” I ask. “Is it because you weren’t there to witness it and add more fuel to the fire? Is that why you care?”
“I asked you a question.” He ignores what I just said and focuses on his own question.
“Is this what you came here for tonight?” I ask. “To get the lowdown on what went on with Mrs. Cartwright?” He just stares at me. “It’s the same shit it always is. Just like you, she hates me, wants me to crawl back into a hole and die, yada, yada, yada.”
“What did you expect when you came back here?” He folds his arms over his chest, and I can see his arms get bigger.
“I expected for everyone to have moved on a little. I expected to be stared at and pointed at. Trust me, I wasn’t expecting to be anyone’s friend, but I wasn’t expecting this,” I admit. “I told the truth.”
“Yeah,” he snaps, “a little too late, don’t you think?”
“I don’t have to take this shit,” I declare, hoping my voice doesn’t crack. “I really fucking don’t. I was scared shitless of doing it!” I shout at him, not willing to go back to that memory. “I could have kept my mouth shut and then none of this would be happening to me. But I didn’t. I stood up and challenged them, told the truth about the whole family, and what did it get me?” I shake my head. “But, hey, it’s not the first time I’ve been strong-armed and pushed around.” I see his eyes flinch. “I’m just not going to stand here as a willing participant anymore.” I turn and head to the door. I hear him rush up the three steps as I open the door and walk in, hoping he doesn’t follow me, but then feeling him in the house. “What do you want from me, Charlie?” I ask him softly. “I literally can’t give you anything else, because I don’t have anything left to give.” I wipe away a tear. “You can turn back around and go back where you came from.”