I looked at my parents with a huge smile on my face. They did this for me, to make me happy and try to replace the blackness that seemed to be surrounding my life. I still couldn't stop the edge of unease that seemed to constantly hover around me, waiting for the other shoe to drop.
My parents left me alone to start unpacking my items. Listening to my iPod, I started organizing my belongings and making a list for all the new furniture I would need to fill the rooms. This was the first time I had space to myself, enough room to breathe.
I screamed when I felt a hand grab my shoulder. Falling onto my butt, I quickly turned around. My dad stood above me, almost doubled over with laughter. Yanking out my earphones, I sent a glare his way.
“Sweet baby Jesus! What were you trying to do? Give me a heart attack?”
“Hey, I tried calling your name. It's not my fault you were blaring music.”
“What did you need?” I rested my arms on my raised knees, maintaining my glare.
“Time for you to come upstairs. We ordered some pizza and still have some things to talk about.”
“Trying to butter me up with the thought of pizza, eh?”
“Couldn't hurt.” With a wink he headed up the stairs.
I followed him to the living room where Mom was busy digging through boxes. She looked up and gave Dad a questioning look. Glancing back at me, he gave a short nod in silent reply. Tension seeped into the atmosphere. I crossed my arms and prepared for whatever was to come.
“Come sit with me, sweetie.” She said, sitting herself on the couch and patting the spot next to her. I thought about declining, but figured that would take focus away from whatever discussion they were anxious about. I walked calmly toward her and sat down without even a remark, causing my parents eyebrows to raise in surprise.
“Spill it.” I said, looking straight into my mothers' eyes.
She looked at Dad first before she cast her wary eyes back to me. “Well, I know you're not going to like this, but please just hear us out.” I didn't take my gaze off of her even when I felt the couch shift from the weight of my father sitting down beside me.
She cleared her throat and started wringing her hands in her lap. I gazed at them momentarily then shifted my defenses based on that tell-tale sign. She wouldn't be wringing her hands unless she was worried about what my reaction would be.
“We know you don't want to talk about it, but these little 'incidents' have begun to increase and your attitude has started to swing almost dramatically. We want you to know that we love you, and that we're doing what we think is best for you—” Mom looked pleadingly at me while she put a reassuring hand on my knee. Dad cleared his throat, earning my attention. They planned a speech together. This wasn't good.
“You're going to start therapy on Monday,” Dad said in a rush.
“Therapy?” I raised an eyebrow.
“Yes, you know we'd never do anything to hurt you, we just want you to have someone to talk to.” Mom said in a placating voice.
I could feel my anger rising by the moment. The flecks darkness within me seemed to grow with my building temper. Feeding off it. Fueling it. “You want me to go to some
“Yes, we figured if you had the chance to talk about what's been happening—”
“How am I supposed to talk about what's been happening when
“All that's going to happen is I'm going to end up getting put on some stupid medicine that will keep me like a living zombie just like the last time! How can you guys even come to this conclusion when you know damn well I didn't have anything to do with what happened to Rebecca?”
“Well, if you become a zombie we could always have you cast in the next apocalypse movie,” Dad stated, trying to alleviate my anger.
“That's
Mom put her head in her hands and began rubbing her temples. “Star, that's a
“I'm not stupid, I know it's a movie, but that could happen.” I threw my hands up and yanked my hair over my shoulder, twisting it roughly around my hand. Mom wasn't the only one with a nervous gesture.
“You're forgetting the fact that we're not putting you in a mental institution. We're just having you go to a therapist.”
“Ha! That's what they all say before the person is shipped off to some ward where a mad scientist starts experimenting on them!”
Dad nodded his head. “She has a point, that's how it always starts.”
“Paul! You're not helping!” Mom hissed.
He couldn't keep his grin hidden. “What?”
Shaking her head, she turned back to me. “Look, we don't want this to get any worse than what it already is. We want you to get help so we can nip this in the bud.”
I let loose an eye roll as I wrapped my arms protectively around myself. “Yeah, that's what I thought this whole move was about. You know, uprooting me from the only home I've ever known, removing me from my friends and the life I built. Yup, all about
“Oh, come on Star! You know we didn't have a choice! Do you think we liked moving this far away?” Mom spat in exasperation. “For once would you stop thinking about yourself and think about others? Your father had to take a demotion in his job to move out here! I had to leave my publisher and transfer to one closer to here! You're not the only one who had to make sacrifices!” she threw her hands wide for emphasis.
I stayed silent. I knew what they had to give up to move here. Knew how stressed and worried they were about me. Because of me. I just couldn't stop the anger from rolling in.
An electric feeling started building underneath my skin, making the air around me almost palpable with static. The darkness seemed to be laughing, mocking my attempts to remain calm, to control myself. I was coming close to being beyond freaked out. The darkness always grew before one of my 'incidents', but the energy snapping under my skin was new. It was terrifying me. I didn't know what was wrong with me. Maybe I was going crazy.
“Why would you think I'd willingly agree to this? Even if you drag me to a therapist, you can't make me talk.”
Acting with an outer calm that mocked my own barely held control, Dad studied his nail beds. “Well, you'll need a car to get back and forth to work and school. If you talk during your sessions, we'll buy you a car.”
I sank graciously to the floor, feeling like they sucker punched me in the gut. My anger was thoroughly deflated, making the darkness and energy fade. I chewed on my lip thoughtfully while staring at my scuffed up tennis shoes, thinking about their offer. I didn't want to start my new life riding the school bus or having to beg my parents to take me places. I wanted my freedom, and they were offering it to me with one hell of a catch.
I didn't think I'd have an active social life in this Podunk town, but it would be nice to be able to escape for a while. The sound of the doorbell broke into my internal debate.
I sighed in relief at the disturbance and jumped up. “I'll get it!” I called out as I ran to the door. Skidding on the slick tile, I almost fell on my butt as my hand reached for the door handle. “Fuck!” I caught myself just in time to hear Mom’s chastisement.
“Starlette Elizabeth McKinley! Language!”
I rolled my eyes as I flung open the door, scaring the pizza delivery guy at the same time.
I drank in the sight of him. He was tall, easily towering over my petite 5'6'' frame. His shoulders were broad and I could see the muscles of his arms tense when he tightened his grip on the pizza delivery bag. My eyes trailed up from his thick chest, lingering on the open collar of his shirt for a moment, taking in the dark golden color of his skin. He had a strong chin, hinting at arrogance. His thick, dark brown hair shone with golden highlights in the porch light. My eyes locked on his warm amber gaze. Flecks of gold danced within them, making me to feel like I was falling. My eyes trailed down his slim, aristocratic nose, to rest on his full lips. His teeth shone white between his lips as they moved.
