Chapter 2
Tannen's Point Of View
The clouds were rolling in above my head, shadows falling over the footpath I walked along. If it rained, I'd be pissed off. Not that I was happy in the first place. But being soaking wet and freezing cold would probably just worsen my annoyed mood.
In all honestly, I had no idea why I was going back. I'm not sure of the motivation behind my feet moving me toward the place I'd spent so long trying to forget. But even though everything inside of me was telling me to turn back and run, my feet wouldn't follow; which was why I wasn't exactly the most thrilled person alive right then. I was torn. I could head back and pretend like I belonged somewhere else or I could face everything I'd been running from. Quite frankly, neither of the options were appealing.
Cursing silently, I looked up, the neighbourhood growing more familiar as I passed by each house. Not a lot had changed. In fact, I could hardly spot more than one thing that was out of place. The houses were all the same, the frontyards all littered with their own unique possessions that I thought may not be the same as they used to be. Clearly not everything changes.
A sudden crack of thunder brought my attention back to the weather which was slowly worsening as the seconds ticked by. I picked up my pace, almost jogging as I turned down the street that had starred in a lot of my nightmares since I'd left. The house that held too many memories for me to recall sat on this street. Too many memories that I wouldn't be forgetting anytime soon.
And then I stopped walking, my eyes fixed to that house that now stood in front of me.
Grass spilled over the narrow footpath that led from the white front gate all the way up to the doorstep. The gate that was closed across the driveway had cobwebs growing over the lock and weeds growing up the side.
"Mow the lawn, Tannen!"
"Mum, not now. I have friends over."
"I don't care!"
"I'm not mowing the fucking lawn now."
Her voice was strong and clear in my mind like it was only yesterday that she'd been yelling orders at me which I refused to follow. Now I'd give anything to hear her demanding voice and watch her face grow angrier by the second. She should be here.
But it wasn't the overgrown garden and unused gates that got to me. It was the house itself. The front door was ajar and the windows were all open.
Just like I'd left it all those weeks back.
Dumping my backpack on the footpath outside, I quickly jumped the fence like I'd done so many times before in the past. But unlike those other times when I was simply sneaking in after a forbidden night out, I knew this time would be different. There'd be no mother inside waiting for me. My baby sister wouldn't be asleep in her cot just up the hallway from my room. There wouldn't be any photo frames on the walls, nor would there be food in the kitchen or the lingering smell of my mother's cooking.
No. This time, there'd be plain white walls that looked lost without the photos. Her room would be empty and liveless. The kitchen would be bare. And it would probably smell like mould or something because of how long the windows and doors had been open.
Suddenly this didn't seem like such a good idea. My hands were already shaking and I hadn't even reached the door yet. It was like I was frozen in place, all intentions of moving towards the place I used to call home were gone.
And to make matters worse, the sky decided it was time to open up and attack me with water. Taking that as a sign, I turned around and walked back towards the road, jumping the fence and picking up my bag that was slowly getting wet like I was.
This whole idea was stupid and I had no idea why I came. It was only going to make things worse and I knew it.
Walking away from that house brought me no closure whatsoever. If anything I felt worse. But there was no way in hell I was going back there any time soon, so I'd just have to deal with the voices and the nightmares for now. I could cope with being a fucking mess better than I think I could cope with walking through the empty hallways of what used to be our home.
The rain was now starting to soak my plain white t-shirt and black jeans and soon I think I'd die of pneumonia or some shit. So as soon as I spotted a bus shelter, I made a quick dash for it, enjoying the relief that it provided from the rain. I curled up on the seat, dumping my damp bag down beside me and huddling up for warmth while the rain continued to pour down on the small tin roof above my head. I'd done this too many times before; sleeping in bus shelters like it was no big deal. Because it wasn't a big deal. Better than sleeping out in the rain.
Closing my eyes and listening to the thunder rumble through the sky, it took me a few minutes of steady breathing until I finally managed to fall asleep, praying to god that my nightmares would leave me alone for once.
