Sequel: So Talk to Me Like Lovers Do ›
Sister, I'm Feeling Pretty Safe, Dead in a Home-Made Grave
Oh Love Only Gets You Down
It took a few hours to drive south to Moorestown. Really, I didn't stop many places. I only stopped at McDonald's to get lunch on the way down, just something small, but even McDonald's seemed to remind me of Gerard.
When I got home, I found that my parents had moved everything into the house for me, and I couldn't have thanked them more. They noticed I was sad, but they didn't say anything. The second I saw my mom, I ran to her. She hugged me and I just broke down on the spot and started crying.
She told me that she was making my favorite for dinner, chicken parm. It made me feel a bit better, I'll admit, to know that I still had my family to come back to at the end of the day. However, it just didn't get rid of that horribly empty feeling in the pit of my stomach.
I took my suitcases and put them in my room. The first thing I did was sit down on my bed and stare at the posters on the wall. My parents had put them all up in the exact spots that they used to be in. No doubt, they knew me all too well. Of course, I had also marked where each one had been going just in case I was coming back. I hadn't really known whether or not I would have liked it in Newark, but I had. I had liked too much, far more than I should have. I fell in love with that place, and now look where it got me.
I rested my head on my pillow. I started thinking. "I never told Gerard..." I whispered to myself. Then, I thought about it some more. Should I tell my parents? I don't know. I still had a lot of thinking to do about all this. This whole thing tied my stomach up in knots, literally. I hadn't felt sick in a while. Maybe that was because I wasn't around ghosts since that night on the roof. Closing my eyes, I took a deep breath.
I wished I had Gerard. If he were here, I would have felt a lot less nervous about all of this. He had this funny way of making me secure even in the scariest situations, but I didn't have that anymore.
I could hear somebody walk through the door outside in the living, and my parents started talking to them. It was probably just one of the neighbors. I didn't pay too much attention. I didn't think anybody would bother coming to see me until my mother knocked on the door.
"Faye, there's someone here to see you," she said, and I sighed, rolling over.
"Alright, let them in," I said, uneager to greet whoever was behind the door.
When I got home, I found that my parents had moved everything into the house for me, and I couldn't have thanked them more. They noticed I was sad, but they didn't say anything. The second I saw my mom, I ran to her. She hugged me and I just broke down on the spot and started crying.
She told me that she was making my favorite for dinner, chicken parm. It made me feel a bit better, I'll admit, to know that I still had my family to come back to at the end of the day. However, it just didn't get rid of that horribly empty feeling in the pit of my stomach.
I took my suitcases and put them in my room. The first thing I did was sit down on my bed and stare at the posters on the wall. My parents had put them all up in the exact spots that they used to be in. No doubt, they knew me all too well. Of course, I had also marked where each one had been going just in case I was coming back. I hadn't really known whether or not I would have liked it in Newark, but I had. I had liked too much, far more than I should have. I fell in love with that place, and now look where it got me.
I rested my head on my pillow. I started thinking. "I never told Gerard..." I whispered to myself. Then, I thought about it some more. Should I tell my parents? I don't know. I still had a lot of thinking to do about all this. This whole thing tied my stomach up in knots, literally. I hadn't felt sick in a while. Maybe that was because I wasn't around ghosts since that night on the roof. Closing my eyes, I took a deep breath.
I wished I had Gerard. If he were here, I would have felt a lot less nervous about all of this. He had this funny way of making me secure even in the scariest situations, but I didn't have that anymore.
I could hear somebody walk through the door outside in the living, and my parents started talking to them. It was probably just one of the neighbors. I didn't pay too much attention. I didn't think anybody would bother coming to see me until my mother knocked on the door.
"Faye, there's someone here to see you," she said, and I sighed, rolling over.
"Alright, let them in," I said, uneager to greet whoever was behind the door.