I should have stayed in the car.
Daddy looked at the girl like he loved her. He looked at her the way he always looked at me.
Like she was special.
I hated her.
I wanted to hurt her.
I didn’t want my daddy to look at her like that.
It wasn’t fair.
Daddy pulled the rag from the girl’s mouth, his fingers lingering on her cheek. She flinched away.
Then her pretty, pretty green eyes sought out mine. Wet with tears. Falling on the floor. Mixing with the blood.
“Help me,” she whispered.
I looked at Daddy, but he only smiled at Amelia. At her pretty, pretty face with her pretty, pretty green eyes.
“Help me,” she said again, a little louder.
Was I supposed to help her? Is that why Daddy came here? To set her free?
“Is she okay?” I asked. My voice so young. So small. Swallowed up by the large room and the shadows in the corners.
“Are you okay, Amelia?” Daddy asked, still looking at the girl with her red, red skin. She cried and cried.
I didn’t like her crying like that.
“Help me!” she screamed, and I covered my ears.
I wished she’d shut up!
“What did you talk to your dad about?” Elian asked some time later.
“The stars,” I responded, my forehead against the window. The air conditioner was on full blast. I was cold.
Freezing.
From the inside out.
“Why? What’s so important about the stars?” Elian wondered aloud. I laughed. I couldn’t stop. I laughed and laughed and laughed.
Elian chuckled along nervously.
“I spent my entire life wondering the same thing. Why they were more important than I was. And then I realized that it didn’t really matter. Because they were mine too.”
I made no sense. Elian was confused. He was justifiably concerned.
And he was falling.
Falling.
Falling…
“Do you feel better? Now that you’ve seen him?” Elian asked, breaking through my constant, uncontrollable laughter.
I stopped laughing.
I was silent.
Did I feel better?
I ran my forehead along the smooth window. I thought about smashing my head through the glass. Just to feel the pain.
Just to feel something.
Anything but the numbness.
The nothingness.
“Yes,” I lied. Giving him the word he wanted.
What made him feel better.
“Yes,” I said again.
Liar.
Deceiver.
Fraud.
Elian let out a long, pent up breath. “I’m so glad to hear that.” He was glad.
I let him have his moment of gladness.
Before I took it all away.
“So this is Norton Hill,” Elian said, as we entered the town of my sad, lonely childhood.
“This is Norton Hill,” I replied. I didn’t look around. I didn’t care about the town. Or how much it may or may not have changed.
That’s not why I was here.
Those memories weren’t why I had come.
“Do you want to see your old house?” Elian asked, following the GPS directions towards the only place I wanted to go.
“No. I don’t want to go there,” I told him.
“Why won’t she stop screaming?” I asked Daddy, my ears still covered with my hands. Ice cream was forgotten.
Daddy put the rag back in Amelia’s mouth and ran his hand over the top of her head. Gently. So loving. Like he was tucking her into bed. Would he tell her stories too?
“Is that better?” Daddy asked. I nodded and moved away from the wall and into the room. Just a little bit.
It was dark in here. Even with the light on. It was dirty too. Like it hadn’t been cleaned in a long time. Mommy would hate it here. She would complain about the dust and gross stuff on the floor. It was dark and sticky looking.
Some of it was dripping from Amelia’s arms. Blood. Lots of it.
“What’s she doing here, Daddy? Are you here to let her go?” I asked. Amelia was crying. A lot. I didn’t want to look at her but I couldn’t help it.
I felt something strange in my stomach.