1 Chapter 1

Kathleen

August 26, 1:26 p.m.

Fire was everywhere.

Screaming resonated through my mind.

A voice yelling, "Help! Help u-"

"Wake up! Kathy, wake up now! We're here," I heard as I awoke to my best friend, Clara, shaking me awake from my deep slumber.

As she sees me wake up she just smiles lovingly and says, "We're here."

As I continued to come to, I noticed how I had been asleep and my newly numbed arm.

It seems I was somehow, able to curl myself into a fetal position against the door with my arm underneath my head being the only cushioning.

Talk about uncomfortable.

I chuckled at this thought, as does Clara almost at the same time, she must have thought of something like I did.

I shake out my numb arm, then look up to see our new... "home", but before my eyes can focus on the white building I just see her parents as they look back at us; they sadly smiled at the small hint of joy we hadn't expressed in so long. Or more pointedly, I haven't expressed in so long.

I'm not smiling, I think to myself, I'm dreading this awful, forced change to my life. My frown deepens as I recall the dream or memory, I should say.

I zone back into the faltering smiles around me and fake a small one of my own, but without practicing I don't know how convincing it is.

I still try, despite how unconvincing I know it is.

I know they're faking theirs, so why can't I too? I ask myself.

I refocus my eyes back on the house, becoming lost in my thoughts about how this was where I am meant to start a new life.

And how the heck I'm meant to do that.

Away from the old one in Quebec, so far away from this small Maine town.

It looks like any regular, run-of-the-mill family house. Not too big, not too small. White with a grey roof and brick chimney; there are three sections with windows facing into rooms and two windows on either side of the door facing into two rooms. The door perfectly centered with steps leading up to it. A small garage is also handing off the left side of the house with the, pretty, steep driveway leading up to it.

The large bushes are high enough to reach the bottom of the downstairs windows and some ivy crawling up the side of the house. There's also a pretty large tree on the right side of the house. All the plants look intentional, like they were placed there for a reason.

It's too... normal.

It's like just being here is me trying to act like everything is okay.

When everything is just sh*t.

And my home is where my family is.

That is certainly not here.

Except...

Mateo then says, "Kathy, sweetheart, why don't you go around and let Louis out of his carrier?" I brighten up, or try to, and nod at the suggestion; I love my gorgeous dog Louis with his silky, white fur containing blotches and speckles of black. His lively barking. His playfulness.

Ever since the accident, I feel like I can't give my heart to anyone anymore.

Except Louis, of course.

I go to leave the black Honda CRV, when I notice my sleeping leg and stiff back.

Stepping out of the car was a pursuit that included stiff limbs and a sore mouth, because even though it happens a lot I hate sleeping in cars, or most vehicles for that matter.

I step onto the driveway and stretch my back, arms, and shake my sleeping leg out as as I bask in the afternoon light for the first time in quite a few hours.

I also hear the trunk beginning to open and Louis's high pitched barks are next.

It makes me tear up.

I love him, but he's the last living reminder of what I used to have, of the family I used to have.

I set up his long leash in the front yard, so Louis is able to stretch his legs and get some of his energy out. After, I'm done setting that up, I release Louis from his cage of a carrier.

As soon as he's out, he tackles me to the ground, then goes around to the others as they too get out of the car.

At least one of us is able to be free of this burden of memory.

After we've all exited the car and Louis has been put on his leash, we decide to go in and check out inside of the house.

The door is a wooden door with the middle of it more carved out as a design choice. The entrance of the house opens more to a large room with a kitchen to the far back right corner. It's only enclosed by short walls, disconnecting it from, what I'm guessing, will be our dining area. The rest is just pure white walls and wood floors.

Upstairs not much changes.

Only there's a small hallway with rooms coming off of either side.

Jaqueline and Mateo show us our rooms that we chose based on the pictures online of them.

Mine is the first door on the right.

I enter the room, and the first thing I notice is the seated window, which is why I chose this room. It may be the smallest, but it's the only one in the house with a special feature like this.

It just makes the house seem a little less perfect.

Not that that's a bad thing.

However, everything else is mostly the same with the white walls and wooden floors.

"Don't worry, you won't be like the rest of this horribly monotonous house, I promise you that."

------------

After I'm done looking around I go downstairs to help unload the suitcases and boxes from our medium sized car, and trust me it's quite a bit. Th- We didn't trust the movers with a lot of our valuables.

I guess it was a pretty good call.

When I go outside I see Mateo beginning to unload some boxes of fragile items, I think they mostly contained the precious plates and silverware of my mother.

It still doesn't even sound right thinking it, especially after thinking about the accident so much.

"Hey! How about I get my stuff to put in my room, you know, considering it's my stuff," I tell father.

He looks at me with sad eyes and another fake smile, "Yeah, go ahead A-Kathy," he slips out.

Looks like we're all still getting used to this "let's start a new life" thing, but why does it have to be so awkward talking to them? It wasn't ever before and they were already like my family, so why? Just why?

Ending with that thought I begin unpacking my suitcase and boxes.

It's not much, I wasn't left much after the accident happened.

The old beat up, blue suitcase is pretty light despite it holding all the clothes and most valuable items I have left. Just so you know, the two boxes I have are just books; there would have been more, but it took them from me and the only ones I have left are the ones that weren't present for it.

I take the, to some, astonishingly light suitcase to my new room, and when I return for the first box I feel off. It feels as if someone is watching me, but I'm probably imagining things being in a new place and all.

When I return for my final box, I get the same feeling.

It makes me just want to turn around, so I do.

I look up at the house across the street, sure enough two people were looking at us through their window; from what I can see they are around mine and Clara's age, which would be around 17 or 18.

There is a boy and girl, I can't see much, but I can see the resemblance they have to each other.

One only twins would have.

My heart slowly beginning to ache as I think this.

I try to shake it off and get back to unpacking, but I just can't do it so I decide to play with Louis as he's still outside just waiting for playtime.

I go upstairs to grab the small box of new dog toys we bought for Louis, then go back outside. However, even playing with Louis can't take this anxiety away from me as I continue to ask myself questions I shouldn't be asking myself.

I should be starting a new life, forgetting my past.

Forgetting this eternal anxiety and not mourning my old life anymore.

But I still can't.

I throw the Louis's ball and say, "Fetch boy."

Why were they looking at us?

I collect the ball he brought back and say, "Good boy.

What do they want?

I throw it.

How long were they looking at us?

He brings it back.

Are they still watchi-, is what I get through before my thoughts and actions are halted by Clara's voice.

"Kathy. Kathy! Are you okay?" I hear Clara calling to me.

Hearing Clara's voice knocks me out of my stupor as I come back to reality to find all three of them looking at me with worried faces.

"Sweetie, are you alright? Do you want to go inside? We're almost done here anyway, we just have a few more boxes left and the truck won't be here until tomorrow," Mateo told me with a sympathetic, sad smile adorning his tired face.

At this comment I simply nod my head slightly, while unconsciously taking Louis off of his leash and pick him up to go inside.

I mindlessly walk through the house.

A house that will never be my home.

I step into my room, it has four white walls a wooden floor and a ceiling, but it has something the other rooms don't.

A window seat.

I decide to wallow in my misery while sitting in that seat. It's not very comfortable right now without any cushions, but sitting here makes me feel safe and more at home than the rest of the house does.

What's wrong with me? Why did this happen to me?, I think to myself, as tears well up in my eyes and fall down my cheeks, at this point they are basically my friends.

The friends I have held in me since I found out I would have to leave everything I've ever known.

Everything I've ever loved.

Except Louis.

I jumped as I hear him bark from my doorway, then open my arms for him to come and share in my sorrow.

Because I know he feels it too.

And that's how we sit for the next few hours.

Until I eventually fall asleep cuddling with Louis in the window seat.

------------

It is late into the evening when they walk upstairs to check up on me, I guess. I've been up for a while, but just didn't feel like announcing it.

When they first walk in, I think it is obvious that I have been crying for the past few hours, as I sit there stroking Louis in a sad but comforting manner.

Mateo comes over first with a pitying look on his face.

I hate being pitied, but I deserve it with how defeated I'm sure I look. That thought doesn't help my mood.

When he makes it over, he doesn't quite know what to do, I mean, I practically grew up with him, but he's never had to do this for me. This causes him to simply look down at me as I look back up at him and he pats my shoulder.

He pats my shoulder, as I look up into his solid brown eyes and him into my split, heterochromatic eyes.

One blue and one green.

One for each of them. For each of the ones I loved the most and miss the most.

"It's okay sweetheart, you're going to be okay, we're going to be okay, you're going to be okay, and don't forget it's okay to cry," he tells me in his booming, accented voice, but the hitch at the end of the statement tells me that he's not as fine as he seems.

Just like me, trying to put on a disguise and forgetting my past.

Not that that's going too well for me.

But, I continue holding the tears back and try to not cry in front of him, because I promised myself that I wouldn't cry in front of my new family.

"I know we will, I know I will...eventually," I say, making the last word as quiet as possible.

I just cannot mask the uncertain tone in that statement.

I just don't know if I will be okay and that's the truth.

But they can't know that; I don't want them to.

When I say this Mateo sadly nods and steps away to leave the room along with Jaqueline. When I look up at them, they just look back with clear pity in their eyes. Clara has that same look too.

I subtly clench my jaw, as I just want to scream "Stop looking at me like that! I don't want your pity!" But I don't as they walk away from me.

The last to leave the room is Clara who knew that I wasn't as okay as I pretend to be and probably never would be.

"Good night, Kathy," she said, so quietly that I almost couldn't hear her.

"Good night, Clara," I said, just as quietly.

Then she left the room, leaving me and Louis alone by the window.

All alone.