His voice brought back memories of screaming, crying, and a broken love that could never be fixed. An endless feeling of falling and flying; soaring high, yet falling low. His voice felt like the butterflies in the pit of your stomach were just learning how to fly; his voice felt like an abandoned home that used to hold a family. His voice was a reminder. His voice was a reminder of the truth. His voice was a reminder of the past, the present, and the future. His voice was a reminder of him.
"I've decided to stay here, even though you told me not to," he whispered, his voice like a child's; innocent and frightened. His arms hung at his sides in such a way that they reminded me of a fragile doll.
He was wearing the same clothes as the last time I saw him, a button down blue shirt, grey jeans with cuts on the knees. I noticed he never had them sewn up or cleaned, for the blood stains still ringed the holes. As his thumbs searched for his pockets, he glanced up. His eyes were dark, mysterious, and chilling, much like our past. It was as if he was trying to look me in the eyes, but something stopped him. "Did you hear me? I said I'm staying." This time it was more persistent, like in those few silent minutes he had gained enough confidence to assert himself in his own home. He took a step forward, and it shook the house. Astonished, we both jumped. We stood still and the house shook with a great force. The aggression of the vibrations sounded like the house was fighting with itself. The door he had come in through swung shut.
"Callyn we have to go, now!" He reached for my hand and I pulled back.
"Cal, what's going on?" whimpered a small voice from behind me. I turned around to see a child. So young, innocent, and out of place. I pulled him into my arms.
"Do you wanna go to grandmas today Cameron?" I said smiling. Only children can see the truth, yet they don't know what to do because they don't always know what's right. Cameron lifted his head and his brown eyes shone into mine. He nodded and rubbed the sleepies out of his eyes. I looked up to our guest and gestured to the door. Swiftly, he turned and hit his hip off the corner of a table next to the door. Cameron giggled and I grabbed the keys.
I buckled Cam into his car seat and was about to close the car door when he looked up with fear in his eyes and alarm in his voice.
"Wait, I left Will on the couch! Cal I have to go get him!" He fumbled with his buckle but I stopped him.
"Cameron do you really need him to go to grandmas today?" I said slightly irritated. The ground shook again, but his answer was the affirmative. "I'll be right back, don't talk to him okay?" I nodded towards our past, who was taking his sweet time getting in the passenger seat. I turned and ran to the house. On the couch sat a little elephant, who appropriately named by a 2 year old, is called Will. I grabbed him and turned to leave when the door slammed shut, and the glass pane in it shattered. Thousands of snaps grew louder, and louder and it sounded like bullets where raining down. I dropped to the floor and army crawled along the wooden planks, glass shards decorating my hair and skin. It was as if we were having a thunderstorm, and each clap of sound was testing the house. I had a hold of the doorknob when I got shoved back and hit by the door. My head throbbed and I curled into a ball. Through slitted eyes I saw him standing there with an open mouth, the same mouth that had yelled, screamed, and proclaimed his love for me only a few months ago.
"I thought you needed a hand," he shouted over the deafening cracks and shaking of the house. I mumbled what I thought he needed under my breath, and let him help me to my feet. The touch of his hand brought me back into time, to days of holding hands, and other less happy things. He pulled me up, and abruptly dropped my hand when I was balanced. As he turned to walk out the door he tugged up his shirt so it covered the scar running down his neck. “Are you okay to drive, or should I take the wheel?”
“Are you kidding me? You think I’d ever get in a car with you driving again? Especially with Cameron?” I spat out with hostility. I got in the car and slammed the door almost catching Will’s ear. I sweetened my tone and put on a smile. “Here you go Cam.”
As we pulled away from the drive, the ground grew from steady vibrations to obnoxious jerks. I rode the break, and we jolted and justled down Main Street. Cameron started humming his favorite song, and his tiny voice melted my anger and loosed my grip on the wheel. We drove across town to our grandmother’s house. It was a classic old lady house with pink shutters and floral curtains. Inside was the biggest couch and kitchen you’d ever seen; you could take a nap and wake to the sweet scent of baking chocolate chip cookies. Heavenly aromas wafted into every room because Grandma always said ‘Closed doors are blocking everything, leave them open, smell the cooking’. I suppose that’s why she’d never let you close the door when you slept over unless you were in the bathroom. It was always nice spending the night, and waking up to open doors welcoming you into any room. Unless something horrible was happening, the doors at our Grandmother’s house were always open.