Page 38 of In the Dust

Those are gone now, and so is she.

I quickly pull the shutters closed, securing them with a latch.

I reach for the door handle, stopping once it’s in my grasp.

Deep breath. You can do this.

I look around the room and it’s like opening a time capsule. Everything is still the same, as if she left it yesterday with the intention of returning today, but that’s not the case. It’s been three years.

An unfinished canvas sits in the middle of the room with a mason jar full of different size brushes and a bench that she used to sit on. We used to sit on. My breath snags in my throat as I think back to all the times she would paint in here, or how she taught me to paint the moment I could pick up a brush.

There’s a little nook off in the corner for me, where I could read if I didn’t feel like painting.

All the talks we had in here, mostly about him.

Being in here is starting to overwhelm me.

Colton has me all in my feelings. It’s easier to blame him.

Asshole.

I walk over to the window and run my fingertips across the sill. No dust. I wonder if dad is the one keeping it clean. I check all the windows to make sure they are sealed tight. I begin to leave, stopping as I reach the door. I look back, tracing the room once more with my eyes.

“I miss you so much,” I whisper to the room before opening the door and stepping outside.

I pull the door closed, locking it, leaving the memories right where they are.

Untouched.

* * *

There is still somuch to do, and I don’t have much time before the rain hits. At least dad is closing up the house before he goes. That's one less thing I have to worry about.

I look to the sky, watching the black and grey clouds swirl around in an intimate dance while thunder rumbles off in the distance.

I quicken my pace to the tractor barn. There's not much to do here considering there aren't any windows. I walk to the back of the pole barn and secure the two locks on the door, then to a small broom closet that's to the left of the giant doors.

I need to reinforce the south doors so they don't burst open with the high winds. I open the door to the closet and flip on the switch.

I'm instantly reminded of Colton. We've had a make out session or twenty in here. I'm not sure why I'm even thinking about his tender lips. He's not that good anyways.

That's a lie.

I lower my head while pinching the bridge of my nose. Just stop, you idiot. He's a dick, I have to remind myself for the sixty-seventh time in the last hour.

I start grabbing the sandbags and trek them to their final destination. By the time I get the sixth bag to the south doors, I'm out of breath and possibly dying. Right here, on the barn floor, is where I’ll meet my end.

Damn, I shouldn't be this out of shape still.

The thunder bellows through the air, rattling the tin walls and causing me to let out an awful scream. Fuck, that scared me.

I finish locking the north doors to the tractor barn and head for the chicken coop next.

“Come on, ladies! Move it, let's go.” They just cluck at me in response as I try to guide them back into their coop.

Heniffer Lopez, Stevie Chicks, and Lindsey LoHen take their sweet time. But alas, they get in safely and I make sure to check the coop locks behind them.

The wind is picking up, and the sounds of the old trees creaking while they sway back and forth are getting louder. The leaves are rustling, singing an enchanting song.

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