Everything I Used to be is Coming Back to Torture Me

Clover rotated slowly on the spot, her head swiveling to keep the full-length mirror nailed on the inside of the closet door in sight so she could see how the dress fit from all angles. It was a new dress the gals had given to Clover as a congratulatory present for finishing rehab successfully. She didn’t even want to think how much it had cost them.

Clover had been out of the center for about two weeks. Two weeks sober, she liked to think. That might not seem like such a long time to someone else, but to Clover, that was an amazing monument after several months of drug and alcohol addiction.

The counselors at Serenity Sobriety Center always made returning to the outside world sound like a terrible, horrific temptation, like the serpent tempting Eve with the forbidden fruit. They’d made it sound like Clover would become a vampire, thirsting for alcohol or drugs instead of blood, and the instant she saw any, she’d be on that like corn on the cob. However, Clover found it surprisingly easy to resist any temptations. It wasn’t how the counselors had described it at all. Maybe she just had more self-control than people gave her credit for. There was no way she was ever going to return to the person she had been. She felt extremely confident that she would never relapse, ever.

A knock at the door drew Clover from her thoughts. She gently pushed the closet door closed, her reflection disappearing into the shadows, and went to the front door. She opened it to find Brian standing there. He wore a pair of blue jeans without any holes in them and a nice button-up shirt.

“Who’d have thought that a man like yourself could clean up so nice? I damn near thought that eyeliner was stained into your skin,” Clover teased.

“Yeah, well, that’s just me, always full of surprises,” Brian answered. He pulled his hand out from behind his back. Inside his fist was a bouquet of flowers fresh from the flower shop. He handed them over. “You can’t visit a grave without flowers to put by the tombstone.”

“Oh, I…” Clover mumbled, accepting the flowers from Brian. “You didn’t have to.”

“I know your mother meant a lot to you,” Brian answered with a shrug. “Now c’mon.”

Clover nodded and stepped from the apartment, shutting and locking the door behind her.

@!@!@

Clover felt a wave of deep, immense sadness wash over her as she stood in front of her mother’s grave. It was on the outer edges of a pretty little cemetery just a couple towns over from Huntington Beach, a small, modest tombstone with simple lettering proclaiming that it was Sarah Kissinger’s grave and her birth and death dates below it. At the age of nine, Clover had chosen what would be put on the tombstone, and she chose something simple, something she knew her mother would’ve appreciated. She’d also chosen to put her mother’s maiden name on the tombstone rather than her father’s surname, wanting her mother to be as disconnected from Ron as possible. She’d also taken her mother’s maiden name back as well. Ron no longer existed or belonged in her life. Even at nine she understood that.

“Would you like a moment?” Brian asked quietly from beside Clover. Clover shook her head, continuing to stare at the tombstone she hadn’t seen in nine years.

“I haven’t been here since the funeral. I was always scared of how I’d feel, what I would remember,” Clover said.

“And?”

“It’s…surprisingly peaceful. She died a violent death but I feel like she knows I turned out all right. I feel like she’s at rest because of that,” Clover answered. “Do you think she’s watching me?”

“Of course,” Brian answered instantly. “You’re her daughter.”

To Clover’s shock, her vision clouded with tears. She blinked, and the tears streaked down her cheek. She reached up and wiped them away with the palm of her hand. “Oh, no,” she mumbled, “I’m not much of a crier.”

Brian wrapped an arm around her and pulled her gently against his side. She leaned into him, resting her head against his chest.

“You know, I think she’s proud of you,” Brian said quietly.

Clover smiled, a gentle breeze blowing through the cemetery already drying her tears. “I think so too.”

She pulled slightly away from Brian to rest the flowers in front of the tombstone. She pressed a kiss to the tips of her fingers, resting them on top of the tombstone for a moment, and then straightened. She took Brian’s hand in hers and together they began the walk back to his car.

Clover could see a promising future spread out before her like a clear horizon at the start of a new day. She simply couldn’t wait to leap right into it with her newfound family.