Hurtful Words

With my bout of the flu completely over within a week or so, I returned to work. Upon seeing the mountains of paperwork I would need to deal with, I silently cursed myself for having absolutely no immune system. I didn’t get home until almost one in the morning on my first day back and even at that point I had barely made a start on the work that I needed to catch up on. My Mom had been on another date with Dirk. It was obvious she liked him because when I got home there would be a couple of dirty dishes in the sink and she would be in bed asleep. Things were slowly beginning to seem more like they did before Dane died, and perhaps even before my father’s passing. Although, the house always felt empty with rooms that we couldn’t bare to use again.

I had finally caught up on all of the filing at the clinic and, photocopying a final document, decided to take the afternoon off. The sky was grey and the breeze biting at my cheeks was cool. It was almost winter, though we wouldn’t see snow in Las Vegas for some time or perhaps at all, unless you were to get far enough out of the city. I decided to take a taxi home rather than wait in the cold for a bus. I had never gotten my licence, I hadn’t really needed to. Everything in Aberdeen was within walking distance of where I had lived. Besides, I was a terrible driver. It was almost four o’clock when I got home. I hung my coat up by the door, slipping out of my shoes, and walked through to the kitchen. “Hi Mom,” I greeted, searching through the refrigerator for something to eat.
“You’re home early, sweetheart,” she replied, wiping down a countertop, “you’re not getting sick again, are you?” I noticed the worry in my mother’s voice as she stood behind me, pressing a warm hand to my cold cheek. I gave a small laugh, pushing her away. “Mom, I’m fine,” I said, rolling my eyes at her maternal nature, “really. I just finished early and thought I’d come home.”
“Oh,” was all my mother could reply with, though she looked relieved.
“Did you know,” I began to ask, having found an apple to eat, and sat on the island counter while my mother bustled around me, “it cost me almost twenty dollars to get home tonight? Those cabs are ridiculous.”
“Well, I’m not surprised,” my mother replied, stacking the plate she had just washed away in the cupboard below where I was sitting, swatting my legs away every now and then to get through. “Maybe you should think about finding a place a little closer to work,” she suggested. My jaw dropped.
“Are you trying to get rid of me?” I asked, pretending to be offended, though I didn’t really mind. I had been thinking about moving for a couple of months but hadn’t really had the time to do anything about it.
“Not at all,” my mother said sarcastically, swatting at my legs once more.
“What’s with the sudden fit of cleaning, anyway? Are we having someone over?” I asked, finishing my apple and throwing the core away, finally moving out of my mother’s way.
“Actually, I’ve invited Dirk over for dinner,” she said, her cheeks flushed from having rushed about the kitchen all day.
“Oh,” I said in realization, trying to stifle a laugh. She rolled her eyes, trying her best to ignore me as she went about turning the stove on. “I’ll just leave you to it then, shall I?” I joked, turning to leave the kitchen. My mother shook her head at me, pretending to be annoyed though I could see a small smile tugging at the corners of her lips.
“Get out of here,” she said, laughing as I danced out of the room.

A couple of days later and I had decided to take my Mom’s advice and start looking for an apartment. I was sitting at the desk in my room, leaning back in my chair as I tapped at my chin with the pen I was using to circle the advertisements in the newspaper I had found. “What are you doing?” Max asked, pulling a face as he came to look over my shoulder.
“Oh, decided to use the front door, did we?” I muttered sarcastically. I was in a bad mood, probably due to the fact I had been looking for an apartment even remotely in my price range for the past half hour and had found nothing.
“What’s up with you?” he asked, taking a seat on my desk.
“Nothing,” I sighed, leaning my head forward and resting it beside his leg, my forehead pressing against the hard wood.
“What’s this?” he asked, taking the paper from me and looking over the advertisements I had circled and then crossed out.
“What does it look like?” I snapped. Max paid me no notice and I lifted my head a little to see him looking over the paper, a serious expression on his face.
“You can’t afford any of these,” he informed me. I rolled my eyes at him.
“Oh, thanks for pointing that out,” I said as if I hadn’t already worked it out for myself. “What would you know about what I can afford, anyway?” I asked harshly, snatching the paper away from him.
“I’m just saying,” he shrugged, standing up only to flop back down onto my bed a second later. “What are you looking for an apartment for, anyhow?”
“I think my Mom wants me out,” I replied, though I wasn’t really paying much attention. I had gone back to scouring over the advertisements I had already circled, trying to work out if there was anyway possible I could afford the rent.
“What makes you think that?” Max asked, lying on his back with his hands behind his head as he looked up at my ceiling.
“Didn’t you see Prince Charming downstairs?” I mumbled around the pen I was chewing, referring to Dirk who had turned up almost an hour before Max with flowers and a bottle of wine. Max didn’t say anything. After a few more brief calculations I was making in my head, I realised there was absolutely no way I’d be able to make rent on one of the apartments I was looking at, coming up at least a hundred dollars short each time. I groaned in frustration, throwing the paper to the floor. “This is useless,” I muttered, resting my head on my desk again.
“You could always stay with me,” Max suggested in passing without giving it too much thought.
“What?” I asked, not sure I had heard him correctly.
“Yeah, well, between the two of us it couldn’t be that hard to come up with the rent,” he said, not taking his eyes off my ceiling, “and besides, I live, like, ten minutes drive from the clinic, anyway.” I let out a squeal and tackled him.
“Max Green, I think I may have just fallen in love with you,” I informed him, hugging him tightly.
“Yeah, yeah,” he grumbled, “get off me. You weigh, like, 300 pounds.”

So, that was it. Three days later and I had packed all my belongings away in cardboard boxes ready to move out. My mother was a little apprehensive about the idea at first but I could tell she wasn’t really all that worried. She had offered to drive me over to Max’s when she returned from the shelter where she would sometimes volunteer. “I shouldn’t be too late,” she said, “I’ll call you when I’m on my way home.” I didn’t have all that much stuff to take with me, a couple of boxes of clothes, some books, a box of photos. Not enough to pay for a mover’s van, anyway. “Let me know if you need anything while I’m out,” she urged, kissing my cheek quickly as she rushed out the door, “I’ll pick up dinner on the way.” I laughed as I waved her off, watching her stumble down the drive to her car. She had spent almost the entire morning helping me pack and was now a little over a half hour late to the meeting she had been asked to. I watched as her car rounded the corner at the end of our street and was well out of sight before I wandered back upstairs. I’d packed almost everything I was planning to take with me. Max said he had a bed in the spare room so I wouldn’t need to bring mine, which was useful because I had had my bed frame for so long that it had rusted together at the joins and I doubted I would be able to get it apart to move it. I had asked for the day off from work so I was able to move but now regretted it. I was absolutely hopeless when I had nothing to do and resorted to moping around the house. It was nearly one in the afternoon when I settled on watching one of those made for television movies that was on.

I must have fallen asleep because when I opened my eyes the sky outside the window was a dull blue and the street lamps were just coming on. I yawned, stretching my arms above my head, before I switched the television off and drifted back upstairs. I pulled on an old sweatshirt that I found in one of the few boxes still remaining in my room, I had already dragged the others downstairs, and began to pack the final box I had, taping it closed and labelling it with a large permanent marker. It was then I realised I had another drawer full of clothes I needed to pack. I groaned, flopping back on my bed and burying my head in my hands. I lay there for a moment longer before going off in search of another box. I looked in the cupboard at the end of the hall; I searched the garage and the study. Nothing. I asked our neighbors, though I doubt they remembered who I was. They said they couldn’t help.

I mumbled angrily to myself as I entered my house again, slamming the front door behind me as I went. I stormed back up the stairs, ready to throw an absolute tantrum and fling the clothes across the room when I stopped, noticing Dane’s bedroom door to my right, at the very end of the corridor. His door was closed; I doubt it had been opened since the morning before the accident. I walked up to it, standing inches away from the Iron Maiden poster tacked to its surface, peeling at the bottom corner. I carefully pressed my fingers to it, straightening it out before reaching for the handle. As I opened the door, the stale air rushed past me, glad to escape after four years trapped in that dark, lonely room. A sad smile spread across my face as I noticed his bed wasn’t made and his graduation robes sat in a heap on the floor. I bit my lip gently as I wandered further into his room, sitting on his bed. Dane’s room only had a single window. It was small and rectangular and sat high on the far wall, keeping the room darker than any other in the house. Dane’s room was also the only other bedroom in the house, beside my mother’s, with an en-suite bathroom, though his was barely bigger than my closet. I picked up a photo in a tacky frame from beside his bed. It was of Dane and Max, though the photograph was so blurry I could hardly make them out. Max had his arm around Dane’s shoulder, his mouth wide open, and the lights behind them were streaky. Their hair was damp and stuck to their faces. I wasn’t sure, but I guessed the photo had been taken at a show they had been to. I set the frame back down only to pick up another. It was much more expensive looking than the other one had been, the photograph inside of my brother when he was only twelve or so, and my father resting a hand on his shoulder. I gasped slightly as tears welled in my eyes. “Dane,” I said softly, laughing as I noticed the tooth he had chipped on the playground sitting at the front of his smile. It had cost Mom a fortune at the dentist to have it fixed. “I’m going to live with Max,” I told him, tucking my hair behind my ears. In the four years since Dane had died, I had only spoken to him once. It was that Christmas break when I had finally decided I wanted to move back to Aberdeen for good and I had sat by my bedroom window, though I wasn’t really speaking with him. It was more of a desperate whisper telling him how angry I was with him for leaving me. “I know, it’s weird, right?” I laughed, setting the photograph back down. The entire room smelt of my older brother and I couldn’t help the aching I felt at the pit of my stomach as I recognized it. “You should stay here, though,” I told him, “you should stay here and you should look out for Mom. I’ll be alright without you.” I wiped at my eyes with the sleeves of my sweatshirt but I couldn’t stop the tears from falling. “Take care of her, Dane,” I said. I pressed a hand to my chest gently as I looked around his room one last time, “God,” I muttered, rubbing my eyes with my hands balled into small fists, “It still hurts so bad, Dane.” I sat there for a moment longer in complete silence before I left that room for the very last time, closing the door behind me. I heard my mother’s car pull into the drive and walked back to my room, lifting one of the remaining boxes. I had never thought it would be so difficult to leave that goddamned house.