To Go From There

I can’t honestly tell you how long I stayed in bed for. It was a while. I got up every few days to eat something and shower but besides that, I had no grasp on time. All I knew was that Gen left for college sometime during the time. She came into my room, knelt beside my bed and kissed my forehead the way Mom used to.

“I know we’ve had our differences, and I may not have made you feel like the most welcome of sisters but Kiernan, you are my sister, blood or not. You’re stronger than you realize. You’ll make it through this. I promise. I love you. Call me if you need me. I’ll only be a plane ride away. Remember that. Be strong, Kiernan Francesca.”

My heart skipped a beat as she stood up and walked out. I wanted to jump up and follow after her, hugging her and begging her not to leave me alone. But I couldn’t move. I heard her car start up and back out. Tears started all over again. Why was I losing everyone? Mom, then Genesee and unfortunately I can’t leave him out, Kellen. I didn’t have a lot of people in my life to begin with, so all these people dropping out of my life is not exactly a good thing.
I stayed in that bed, until I heard steps on my stairs. I sat up straight, peering out the door. It wasn’t Gen, too heavy. And it wasn’t Rhys, too slow. I looked around the corner, getting up slowly. I grabbed the baseball bat Rhys had conveniently left here. I gripped it, just the way he’d shown me one day when we were hanging out.

“Who’s there?” I called, peering around the corner yet again. The person kept walking towards me and when I looked up, there he was at the top of my stairs.

“Dad?” I asked. He looked the same, with his messy brown hair and big dark brown eyes. He was just as ordinary as me, with an average build and average height. I never noticed it when I was little, when I convinced myself I wasn’t good enough for his standards. He was shorter than Rhys, I could tell that by looking at him in my doorway.

“Kiera…” he breathed. I stared at him, eyes beginning to fill with a thin layer of moisture.

“What are you doing here?” I asked.

“I heard about your mom. I decided I’d come and see how you are, see how you grew up.”

“Why do you care? You left us!”

“Not of my own choice, Kiernan. What did your mom tell you?” he asked. I stared at him, in his white button-up and tailored black slacks. He looked so different, with his groomed hair and clean hands. My dad, when I was little, was always messy, with pen marks on his hands and his hair standing in every which way. Mom said that’s what made him so attractive, how he wasn’t into being proper and focused more on her and me than how he looked.

“You left, without warning, leaving Mom to take care of me and keep this roof over our head. What were you thinking?”

“Your mother was lying to you then. Because we’d never been married, I had no choice but to go. It was her house.”

“What are you talking about?” I snapped.

“Your mother forced to me to leave. She said she didn’t love me anymore, after years of her promises that she would never fall out of love with me. She looked at me one day, with the most sincere expression and told me, ‘Zach, I don’t love you. Kiernan and I don’t need you around. You should go home. I can raise her by myself.’ What was I to do? She didn’t want me around anymore. I had no choice. If I’d had any kind of leverage, trust me, I would’ve begged her to let me see you. But… I had nothing. I had to go. Believe me, I am sorry I didn’t explain to you before I left. But your mother is a very strong willed woman.”

“Was,” I mumbled sadly.

“Excuse me?”

“She was a very strong willed woman. She’s dead now.”

“Right. Yeah. I know. But listen, Frankie, I.”

I stopped him, “My name’s Kiernan, not Frankie. You and Mom named me Kiernan Francesca Dunkin. Not Frankie.”

“Your last name is Marshall.”

“No. I changed it when I went back to school.”

“Back to school?” he asked.

“Never mind. You were gone already.”

“Come on, Kiera.”

“Kiernan!” I snapped, walking out. I headed downstairs. Dad followed.

“Kiernan, please,” he begged. I turned at the bottom step towards him. He was 5 steps up, towering over me.

“What? You’re going to apologize for ditching me when I was seven? You’re NOW going to apologize for not being around for the past 10 years, leaving Mom to try and both fight her cancer and make sure I had enough food to eat? You’re NOW going to apologize for the hours that Mom spent crying because she had no one to hold her when she was sick, except for her daughter who was just as scared as she was. Fuck you. I don’t want your apology.”

I turned and walked off again, entering the downstairs bathroom and slamming the door as hard as I could. I fell against the door and the waterworks started up again.

Who was I becoming? I cried all the time. I kissed boys. I swore at my father. I didn’t forgive. I wasn’t Kiernan. But if I wasn’t myself, then who was I?