Collision

I sighed in relief as the warmth from the house engulfed me the minute I stepped inside. I kick my snowy boots off at the welcoming mat at the door and strip off my soggy socks, wet from the snow melting inside. I try to rub some feeling back in my hands as I walk through the dining room and into the kitchen. Thankfully there was already a pot of coffee on for us and as soon as my eyes caught sight of the bitter liquid, I made a break for the pot and immediately fixed myself a cup.

“You could at least fix us a cup,” Mom jokes from behind me. She sets down the cardboard box of dishes on the counter and begins putting them away. I smile at her apologetically and set the now empty cup to make another. This time I make two extras and put them side by side on the counter. After I finish with my second cup, I throw away the paper cup and turn to help her finish unloading the box.

“Go see if you can help him with anything,” she tells me before I get the chance to put the first plate away. I set it back down with the others and oblige to her request, walking down the hallway. Dad is pulling a cushioned chair into the living room when I make it to him and he doesn’t hear me walk in until I clear my throat.

“I made you some coffee,” I say and hand him the cup that I brought from the kitchen. He takes it with a smile and leans against the wall as he sips it slowly. We stand there in a tense silence until he crumbles up the cup and tosses it into the trash can behind me.

“I’m going to go see what else I can get before the moving truck gets here.” He gives my shoulder a squeeze before turning to walk back outside. I crawl into the chair that he just moved and curl into a ball in front of the fire.

Two hours later, my eyes open at the sound of the door opening up. When I look around, I notice that there are two new pieces of furniture in front of me. My legs hurt from being folded up so long and it feels like I broke a sweat while I was sleeping. I pull of my thin jacket and throw it infront of the fire to get dry before walking into the kitchen. Everything looks as it did two weeks ago back home and I can’t help but feel remorse as I stand here.

I turn my back on the familiar kitchen before the tears can slip and trek up the stairs. I walk into the second largest room and notice that all of my suitcases are on the bed. How long was I asleep?

I shake off the lingering cobwebs and begin unpacking everything into the single dresser on the wall. The rest of our things are still in the moving truck that hasn’t arrived yet so I have to deal with the little furniture in here. When there is no more room for my clothes, I put them on the edge of the bed where I won’t kick them if I decide to crawl in. Since it seems like most of my clothes are dripping wet with sweat, I change into a thick sweatshirt, sweatpants, and a beanie to cover my brown hair.

I walk back downstairs after I finish changing and out onto the porch. The cold air feels like a brick wall but I press forward and keep my head down to avoid getting frost bite. I shove my hands into my pocket as I walk down the driveway and turn down the street. I continue walking until I see a bench up ahead that looks clear. I sit down and plug my ear buds in, and for the first time, it feels like I can finally hear my thoughts.

The sweet sound of The Fray pumps out of the tiny speakers as I look around the neighborhood. It looks just as it did in the advertisement online and I think about how we afforded our new house. The new house would have swallowed our old one and we would’ve still had room to live. On the first floor there is a dining room, a foyer, a bathroom, the living room, and a kitchen that has a patio extended off into the yard. Upstairs there are three bedrooms, a sunroom, and two bathrooms. I’m ecstatic about how big our house is but I could have settled with something smaller.

I don’t notice the group of people until they are right across the street from me. My eyes trail each person until they land on one who is keeping a slower pace than the others. He’s wearing a short sleeved black shirt with black jeans and boots. His tan skin is etched with dark lines that I realize are tattoos and his brown hair falls perfectly on his head. None of them notice me except the one that I’ve been staring at, who has fixed me with a hard glare. His green eyes send shudders down my spine and it feels as if all the heat is slowly being drained out of me. I divert my gaze and stare at my snow covered shoes until they are out of sight.

Once they have turned down another street, I stand up and make my way back to the house. I immediately go up the stairs and strip down to a tanktop and shorts before climbing into bed, turning the light off in the process. I try to fall asleep but those electric green eyes haunt my dreams every chance they get.

Notes

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