Far From Home

For as long as I could remember, I've always had strong feelings toward my parents, and not in a positive way. Yeah, I realize that most of what they did was only for my own benefit, but some of the crap that they came up with I swear was only to piss me off. Or maybe I just have anger issues. Either way, they always find something to moan and groan about.

Today, their panties were in a wad over how rarely I come out of my room. I’m almost sixteen, what do you expect? I'm certainly not going to be up at the asscrack of dawn and doing physical activity until the sun goes down, that's what school days are for. Anyway, the moment I woke up this morning, they were pounding at my door, shouting, “Jesslynn LaBelle! It’s four o’ clock and a gorgeous November afternoon! Get dressed and go outside, you lazy ass!”

How about I stay in my room and do something twice as productive, like scroll through Tumblr and sleep. “Okay!” I snapped back, deciding that maybe a little bit of outdoors time wasn't so bad and slowly rolling out of bed. The first thing that caught my attention was my phone, buzzing to notify me of one new text. What nice timing. I slid the phone open to see that it was from my closest friend, Bailey Mitcham.

Dude, this band is amazing. Hollywood Undead, look them up. I suggest starting with Gangsta Sexy. Oh and you should come over today. And bring some food.

I responded saying I would look the band up eventually, but I doubted I would. For starters, it appeared that I would be spending the whole day outside, according to the evil husband and wife. And secondly, Hollywood Undead? Bailey had pretty decent taste in music, but Hollywood Undead sounded like the music of choice for fat girls with poorly layered, crazy colored hair that wore nerd glasses and the same shirt every day and I am most certainly NOT that kind of girl. Although, Gangsta Sexy does sound like a promising title. No, I won’t even bother.

With a small groan, I shuffled over to my bathroom and stared into the mirror. 'Hello, gorgeous,' I thought to myself sarcasitcally, running a brush through my messy, light brown tangle of bed-head. With a dissatisfied sigh, I looked down at my figure. I wasn't exactly the most slender girl around, but I wasn't necessarily a fatty. I thought I was the perfect size, actually. After a few moments of idolizing myself, I meandered into the small room that contained the toilet and shower.

I did my business and began to walk back to my bedroom to get ready for the day, but I hesitated. Something behind me silently called my name, beckoning me to turn around. With a shiver, I turned and looked at the door on the opposite side of the toilet/shower room. It whispered to me, though I knew what would happen if I listened to its calling.

My heartbeat seemed to falter as I took the first step toward the door. Opening it would bring back memories, bad and good, and set me into about an hour of sadness. I grabbed the doorknob and slowly twisted. The smell of sweet cologne filled my nostrils as I stepped into the next room. There, spread across the vanity, was toothpaste, an electric shaver, contacts, all of Damon’s belongings, right where he had left them the last time he was here, more than three years ago.

My stomach churned as I continued toward the door leading to his bedroom, my eyes dampening slightly. It had been about two years since I had come into his room, so the memories rushed into my mind as if a flood gate had been opened. Slowly, I took a deep breath and opened the door.

No matter how hard we try, we cannot go back, nor forward in time. Freezing time is also not an option, yet, while the world around it continued to move about, Damon’s room never changed. The bed was torn up, from his last sleep in it. The floor was cluttered with clothes and random objects. The old desk on the other side of the room was covered in papers and other small things from tasks he had abandoned when he left.

I faintly heard the sound of a door opening behind me. “Jesslynn? Where are you?” Mom called from my bedroom. I quickly spun on my heels and closed his bedroom door behind me, leaving me face to face with my mother, who was standing in the doorway between Damon’s bathroom and the toilet/shower room. “What were you doing in there?” She said, a slight tone of anger in her voice. it was an unspoken rule that neither me nor my parents were allowed to disturb the vacant room.

“Nothing. Just, reminiscing I guess.” I felt a tear slide down my face as she embraced me in a hug. “Aww, Jess, don’t cry. It wasn’t your fault he left. It was entirely his fault.” “I know, I just… I don’t know. I’m going over to Bailey’s. I need some fresh air.”

I eased my way past her, before she could say another word,grabbing my makeup bag and backpack as I walked through my bathroom, along with a few pairs of clothes, a couple bucks, and a jacket, since the pajama pants would only keep me so warm due to the tank top I was also wearing. I would walk to Bailey’s a change there, since she only lived a few blocks away.

I climbed down the stairs and made my way to the door, slipping on my shoes as I walked. “And I’m taking the Twinkies with me!” I shouted as loud as I could, snatching up the box from the cabinet and dashing out the door.