Page 9 of The Afterthought

"I just need a few minutes, that's all," she says while letting out a breath.

"Take all the time you need," I say, hoping that just maybe she will let me in, even a little bit. Having someone to talk to about some of this would be nice. Someone else who knows what it feels like to be alone in the world.

I hate that I even have that thought. She's seventeen. She shouldn't ever feel alone. We sit here for a few more minutes before she unbuckles her seatbelt and looks over at me with a stone face.

"I need you to carry some of my stuff. Let's get this over with." She opens the car door and slams it shut before hearing my reply.

Chapter 5

Avalynn

Irun across the street to follow Chloe down the sidewalk to the house, annoyed. She slips the key into the lock and freezes momentarily before turning the handle and stepping inside. She doesn't even hesitate to run up the stairs and disappears from my sight.

I'll just wait here. I look around the house and take it all in. It's nothing high-class, but you can definitely tell that she was raised with more opportunities than I was.

None of her furniture has burn marks on them. You can tell everything is in newer condition, and someone actually spent money to ensure there is an equal level of both comfort and style. The lamps on the end tables match, and the TV is one of the biggest ones I've ever seen in Dune Valley.

There are throw pillows on the couch, and a recliner that complements it, and matching blankets laid over the backs of both pieces of furniture. It feels warm here, safe, and very homey.

Pictures line the walls of each room that I wander through. Different versions of Chloe stare back at me as I take her in over the years. There are a few of her in cute dresses with pretty bows on the top of her head and others with her in fancier dresses. It looks like she had a happy and fulfilling childhood despite all of her circumstances. She grew up in a single-parent household with a terminally ill mother, but this home screams love.

We both had our own reality checks that forced us to grow up faster than we should have. I was dealing with my mother's addiction, and Chloe was dealing with her mother's illness.

I walk down the small hallway, looking at the pictures of her and her mother smiling back at me. Both of them have the same shade of auburn hair. You can tell in these pictures that as Chloe grew older, her mother grew weaker. I can't help but notice that Chloe bears a striking resemblance to my father in her younger pictures. My heart aches a bit, seeing him in her.

"HEY!" I hear her yell down the stairs. I make my way back over to them and glance up at her.

"Uh, yeah?" I question.

"Are you going to keep creeping around in my house, or are you going to come up here and help me get my stuff? I thought you said you wanted to make this quick."

"You ran up there and didn't say anything. I just assumed you wanted me to wait down here. I didn't want to invade your privacy," I tell her.

"Aren't you invading my privacy by wandering around my house?" she says, and I must admit this girl is too smart for her own good.

I make my way up the carpeted stairs and follow her into a small room with the cutest color of lilac painted on the walls. Her room is not what I expected at all. From her attitude toward me, I expected it to be more harsh and jagged around the edges, but it's the exact opposite.

There are a few stuffed teddy bears sitting on her bed that look to be about as old as she is. The nightstand next to her bed houses a lamp the same shade as the walls, with crystals dangling from below it. In the corner of the room, a small table holds a vinyl record player and a bunch of records.

She catches me looking at it and walks over to the record player, pulling the tonearm over to play it. Music fills the room, and I freeze in place. My eyes go wide. Out of all the things she could have possibly played, it had to be You Give Love A Bad Name by Bon Jovi.

Chills spread over my body, and my heart rate instantly increases. My eyes well up, and tears threaten to fall from them. Panic begins to fill my chest, and I'm pulled into memories of that day—one of the many days that shaped who I have become.

His eyes bulged out of his skull when he saw me with my camera in the corner of the window. It was a stupid mistake on my part. I know it was sloppy, but it was the anniversary of my father's death, and I wasn’t in the right brain space to be at the best of my ability that day.

I watched through the corner of the window as his eyes turned cold and brutal. He stomped out of the house, and before I could gather my things to run away, he raced toward me. He grabbed me by my throat with his fingernails digging into my skin. I dropped my camera as he kicked my feet out from under me and slammed me on the ground.

He straddled my waist, and my fingers clawed at his hand on my throat as I struggled to breathe. His cell phone rang in his pocket. You Give Love A Bad Name by Bon Jovi played around us as I continued to struggle beneath his grip on my throat. The song continued to play, but he didn't answer the call. He was too preoccupied with trying to make sure I paid the price for snooping on him.

"You little fucking bitch. Did my wife hire you to follow me? Did she think it would be that easy to get rid of me? Sending some pathetic girl to trail me and try and catch me in a fuckup." Spit from the intensity of his words came down to coat my face.

The sound of my phone falling to the floor pulls me from the memory. My hands are violently shaking, and tears freely flow from my eyes. I run over to the record player to stop the song from playing and place my hands on either side of the small table to try and calm my breathing.

"Are you okay?" Chloe asks cautiously.

I shake my head no and turn to run past her, picking up my phone on the way out of the room. I have to get out of this house and get some fresh air to gather myself. I'm supposed to be keeping my shit together, but here I am, falling apart the first day we meet. I've been doing so good about not letting the memories from that day affect me.

I push open the front door and flop down on the top step of the porch stairs, letting myself stare out into the distance. Taking a few deep breaths, I let the cool spring air fill my lungs. I shut off all my emotions because feeling what I felt that day is too much. I can't go back to those memories. I'm not that girl anymore. I'm stronger now.

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