Sorry this part's so short....I have midterms, the flu, and 4 job
interviews all in the same week...ahhh! Next part will be longer, if
replies are nice, it'll be here Saturday evening. I want 5 replies in order
to continue. They're very inspiring.
So's Friends, so I'm sure I'll find it much easier to write after tomorrow....
Thanks for reading, don't forget to say a few words on your way out. This part only has an itsy bit of R&R, but there should be more in the next chapter. Hopefully I'll wrap up this Houston bit in the next part.
Katie.
***
Part 6:
Amy ran downstairs at the sound of her sister screaming, and as she descended the stairs, her mind was immediately going to the worst case scenario. She pictured her sister hurt, at knifepoint with their mother, having a complete breakdown...but nothing would have prepared her for what was about to happen.
Rachel was curled up in a ball on the floor, her face pale, shaking violently. Amy immediately knelt down beside her, "What's wrong? What happened?"
Rachel stared into the room, her eyes fixated on the nauseating scene in front of her. Amy met her gaze, following it to the sunroom, a room she hoped would remained closed off forever.
Blood still splattered the wall, a dark red stain on the white carpeting. Little bits of material-- she wasn't sure if it was skin or bones, and she really didn't want to know, scattered in the mess. Their father's eyeglasses laid a few feet away, the lens broken on the left side. The room was showered in shattered glass, the remains of their parent's last fight.
Amy turned away, her mind once again flooded with memories of that horrible night. This was the last thing she needed to see. She was sure it would haunt her dreams forever. She rubbed Rachel's arms, "Let's go in the other room, okay?"
Rachel didn't respond, her eyes still fixated on the gory room. She was almost in a trance, her body still and silent, unable to tear her eyes away from the sight she wished she had never seen.
"Girls, what are you doing? You shouldn't be in this part of the house." Sandra said from behind them, "Let's go into the living room."
Amy refused to meet her mother's eyes, her body full of hate. She wanted to back to New York, she wanted to try to forget this happened, try to lead a normal life. Shaking Rachel, she hissed, "Rach, come on."
"Rachel, honey? Are you okay?" Sandra asked, concern evident in her eyes, "Rach?"
The sight before her was engraved into Rachel's mind. She flashed back to the blood on her comforter, the blood on her pajamas, the dark scars on her wrists. Her whole life was filled with nothing but blood. Her body went cold and she looked up at her mother and sister before her eyes rolled back in her head and she slipped into unconsciousness.
~*~
"Rachel? Honey, wake up." a soothing voice whispered. For a moment, Rachel forgot where she was and why. All she could think about was how she was being taken care of, and how good it felt. And how soft her bed was. It took her a few seconds before she could open her eyes, and all of a sudden reality crashed back down on her.
"What happened?" Rachel asked, sitting up and letting her mother push her back against her pillows, "Where's Amy?"
Amy walked in with a glass of water and a damp cloth, "Oh, thank God, you're awake."
"What happened?" Rachel repeated, her mind in a dense fog, "What's going on?"
Amy sat beside her, giving her the water, "You don't remember?"
Putting the glass down on the bedside table, Rachel's eyes widened as the memories flashed before her eyes, "Oh God."
"It's okay...." Amy soothed, "You're going to be fine."
"It's been a long day for both of you, why don't you get some rest and tomorrow we'll talk." Sandra said, standing. She felt very uncomfortable with this whole situation. At first she had thought it would be a good idea for them to spend some time together, to help the girls come to terms with what happened, but the longer they were there, the more she regretted inviting them.
She remembered why they had sent Rachel away in the first place, she was clearly unstable, and didn't seem much better now. Feeling a pang of remorse and guilt, she kissed Rachel's forehead, not surprised when her daughter flinched. She looked at Amy, who was so angry, so full of hatred. Sandra knew she wouldn't be able to fix this, or even begin. They didn't trust her, they didn't want to even try. Not that she blamed them...she had killed their father.
She let herself out of the room, and Rachel sighed heavily, leaning back and shutting her eyes tightly, "Please tell me I slept away this week."
"Only about 15 minutes." Amy replied, "Are you okay, I mean, with what you saw?"
Rachel shook her head, looking down at the dried blood that stained her own bedding, "I can't believe he's gone. I mean, I knew it before, but now....I mean....he's really gone."
"I know." Amy replied, her voice cracking, "Daddy's really gone."
Amy crawled in bed next to Rachel, curling up under the blankets, "What are we going to do?"
"About what?" Rachel asked, staring up at the ceiling, "We can't leave. Mom wants to talk about this, and I don't know what to say to her. And I can't stand being in this house knowing what I know and seeing what I've seen."
"I don't know what to say to her either." Amy whispered, "I hate her, I really do. But....I don't know.....she's Mom." Amy wiped away a few tears that had fallen, "And as much as I want to strangle her with my bare hands, I know I can't. She and Daddy really had problems. Maybe he really did go after her."
"That doesn't change the fact that she....you know....shot him." Rachel countered, "But I know how she felt....I know what it's like to love people so much and be so angry and not know what to do."
"But she's an adult." Amy argued, "She should have controlled herself."
"I know." Rachel whispered, sighing, "I'm not saying she did the right thing...but sometimes the easiest thing to do is die."
Amy turned to face her sister, her eyes narrow, "Don't talk like that Rachel."
"I'm not saying I am going to kill myself." Rachel muttered, "I'm just saying that sometimes it's easier to face death than to face your feelings. Maybe Mom knew that if she killed him she'd get put to death or go to jail or something...she'd be able to escape her life."
Amy shrugged, "I don't know. Maybe she's just crazy."
"This whole house scares me." Rachel admitted, stroking a pink teddy bear that was once her favorite toy, "Is that crazy?"
Amy shook her head, "Not in the least. Listen, why don't you go to sleep and get some rest, if you get too scared just come knock on my door and you can sleep in my room."
Rachel nodded, yawning and looking at the clock. It was only 8:00 and yet it seemed so late. "See you in the morning."
"Sweet dreams." Amy replied, walking out and shutting off the light, "Want me to leave the lights on?"
"No." Rachel replied, waiting until Amy had shut the door and creeping over to the closet, turning the light on and shutting the door halfway. Just because she was 15 didn't mean that she couldn't be scared in the dark.
Sitting on her bed, she picked up the phone, trying her friend once more.
"Hello?" Came Ross's voice over the line, "Hello?"
"Ross, it's Rachel." Rachel said softly, relief pouring through her veins as she heard his deep voice, "Oh God, I miss you so much."
"I miss you too Rach." Ross replied, sitting down on his bed, "How's Texas?"
"Awful." Rachel moaned, telling him about everything that had happened, "And now I've got to sleep in this room again, and it just brings back everything that I hated about my life here. I want to go back to New York."
"You know, it's funny. When you were here, you always said how much you wanted to go back to Houston." Ross commented, "What changed your mind?"
Rachel sighed, "My Dad dying. It's so creepy to be sleeping in the house where he died. To know that just below my bedroom my Mom shot him. It's the worst feeling ever. I'd much rather be with you guys."
"We miss you too." Ross said softly, "Just a few more days though. And when you get back, we'll all go do something together, you'll forget all about Houston and how awful your trip is turning out."
"I wish you were here to kiss me goodnight." Rachel replied, "Or just to talk to. It's so quiet in this house."
"You're just used to busy New York City." Ross said soothingly, "You'll get used to the peace and quiet...when it's time to come back, you'll probably miss it."
"Doubtful." Rachel whispered, "I just wanted to hear your voice...or Monica's. Anyone friendly."
"I'm glad I got to talk to you, we just walked in the door, not 10 minutes ago."
Sighing, Rachel flopped back against her pillows, "I guess I should go...my Mom's going to flip if she finds out I'm making long distance calls."
"Night." Ross replied with a groan, "I'll call you tomorrow. I can't wait until you come home...."
"Have Monica call, just in case Mom doesn't want me having boys calling." Rachel said softly, "Night. I'll be dreaming of you."
They hung up and Rachel sighed, too wound up to sleep, yet more tired than she had been in ages. She looked around her room, not really knowing what to do. Her old books and magazines didn't really interest her anymore, and anything that would interest her was in her bedroom in New York.
Partially bored and definitely trying to pass the time, Rachel started to dig through the many cabinets in her room, thinking about how different she was 2 years ago. She smiled, coming across many things she had forgotten about, notes from classmates and former friends, birthday cards, poems and stories she had saved from school, pictures. Coming to the bottom of the drawer, she felt something sharp come in contact with her sensitive skin. Looking down, she saw something that had once been her favorite "toy", a pocket knife she had used to cut herself on many occasions.
Shuddering, she covered the knife back up, slamming the door shut. She moved to the next one, which contained some CD's and magazines, a framed picture of her family turned upside down and pushed to the back. Even then, she couldn't look at that picture without feeling remorse. She knew now would be ten times harder.
She sat back on her bed, filled with sadness as she remembered how her life was, how much it had changed. Thinking about the past usually had that effect. Her ears perked up when she heard Amy and her mother arguing in the hall.
"You two don't have to act so scared of me! I'd never hurt either of you!" Sandra fussed, the hurt obvious in her voice, "You know I'd never hurt you!"
"And what? You think it didn't hurt to kill our father!?" Amy yelled loudly, banging her fist on the wall, "You think it didn't hurt to tear us away from New York and bring us back to this place? Back to the scene of the crime? You don't think Rachel or I have a reason at all to be scared?"
"I love you and your sister, I wasn't in love with your father. And you know it was self defense." Sandra countered, "You and your sister should be grateful I'm giving you this opportunity to make your peace, you should be grateful that you get a chance to leave Betty's small apartment and get a bit of your lives back!"
Rachel could almost see the expression on Amy's face just by the tone of her voice, incredulous. "Oh gee, thanks Mom! Thank you for pulling us out of school, away from our friends! Thanks for bringing back all of the memories I'm trying to forget! Thanks for bringing Rachel back to the place where she tried to kill herself! You're doing a great job looking out for us!"
"There's no need to get that sarcastic attitude." Sandra replied, tapping her foot angrily, "Rachel's doing much better now, according to Betty, and you can't forget what happened. It's not healthy to block it out Amy."
"You should have thought about that while you were creating those memories." Amy spat out, "And Rachel isn't doing better! Have you seen her!? If you knew either of us at all, you would know we didn't want to come here, and the only reason we're here is because grandmother is making us!"
The slap Amy received echoed through the house, and Rachel quickly opened her bedroom door, her eyes wide with fear. Their mother wasn't one to easily raise her hand, and just by the stances each had taken, this fight would get much uglier if an intervention didn't take place.
"Mom, Amy, stop." Rachel said in the strongest voice she could muster up, "Please, just stop."
Sandra turned quickly to look at her younger daughter, "I thought you were asleep." she said, almost as an excuse for her behavior, "Amy and I were just talking."
Rachel crossed her arms, "How could anyone sleep with all of this noise? And why can't you two just not fight? If we have to live together until the end of the week, can't we just make an effort to try and get along?"
"She killed Dad!" Amy yelled, pointing at Sandra, "How could you take her side?"
Rachel threw her hands into the air, "I'm not taking sides! I'm just saying that we have to try, I can't take you guys fighting for the rest of this trip. And I really don't want to think about Dad, okay!? So stop bringing it up every ten seconds!"
"How could you NOT think about him?" Amy retorted angrily, "All I think of when I'm here is how he's GONE!"
"I know!" Rachel yelled, stomping angrily, "But unlike you, I'm trying to think of other things! You've got 16 years of memories in this house, surely one of them is a happy one!"
Amy's hand was shaking as she pointed her finger at Rachel, saying in a hateful tone, "It's not the same, you weren't here, you didn't hear the shot that killed him. You don't have any right to say what I should and should not do or feel. You were too much of a coward to stay around and tough it out, you got to live the easy life in New York, you got to run away from this place! And where were your happy memories the night you slit your wrists open?! Where Rachel? Where?!"
Rachel took a step back, tears in her eyes, "Just because I wasn't here doesn't mean that I don't miss him, that it doesn't hurt he's gone Amy! It wasn't my choice to leave, and every single damn day I wished I was back here! You think it was easy to be forgotten like that? To never get a call or a letter? To come back here and see that NOTHING had changed in my bedroom? To know my whole family just pretended like I didn't exist anymore, like I had died that night? Do you honestly think it was easy to be so fucked up in a new place? To not make ANY friends for TWO years? To have to hide these awful scars and my entire past just so I could get a few people to acknowledge I was actually alive?! Do you know what it's like to have someone watching your every move 24 hours a day, not even trusting you to go to the movies? To join any clubs at school?"
Rachel turned away from her mother and sister, breathing heavily and wiping her tears away furiously, "I hated it there. I hated it here. I hated everything. And just when I thought things couldn't get worse, they did. My father is gone! My mother may end up gone too! I may never see Jill again, and the life I had tried to make just right for me in New York is being disrupted right when I had it perfect!"
"Oh boo hoo for you." Amy snapped, "While you were crying and pouting in New York, some of us had real problems. While you went to your new school, with your new life, and your new friends, Jill and I had to live this one, the one you left behind!"
"That's enough!" Sandra yelled, grabbing each daughter's shoulder, "Both of you had the best lives that you could have in these circumstances. You both never did without, you had a roof over your head, food on the table. I don't want to hear another word out of you. I'm sorry your father's gone, and if I could change that I would....but I can't. And I can't change everything that happened when you two were growing up. But your father and I, we did the best we could. Raising children isn't easy. Being an adult isn't easy. And when you're not ready, it's even worse. But I'm sick and tired of you two whining over who had it worse. You should be grateful that we weren't living on the streets somewhere!"
Rachel and Amy looked down, both silent. After a few seconds, Amy muttered, "Why? Why did you do it Mom?"
Crying softly, Sandra wrapped her arms around her two girls, pulling them close, "I don't know, I don't know...sometimes we make bad decisions. Sometimes we do the wrong thing....I know you both are hurting. And I'm not saying I did the right thing, I'm not saying I don't regret it, because I do. It was the worst decision of my life, the one thing that will plague me forever. I'm so sorry I hurt you, and I'm so sorry I took away your Daddy. And I know you'll both hate me forever, and I'm sorry I did that to you, I'm sorry I broke your trust and your love."
Amy started to sob, wrapping her arms around Sandra, whom she had always been very close to, "I don't hate you for what you did Mom, I just hate what you did. You could be a serial killer for all I care, I'll still love you."
Sandra looked at Rachel, who took a step backwards with a shrug, "I...I just don't know." she whispered, fleeing to her room and slamming the door.
Rachel collapsed on the bed, sobbing into her pillow. For the first time, her father's death felt real. Before, she knew it had happened she knew he was gone, but she never felt it as much as she did tonight. Curling up in her pink bedspread, she let all of her tears and sorrow escape, grief filling her whole body and setting off a faucet that she wasn't sure would turn off.
Sometime later that night, while she still cried silently into her bear, Sandra came in, sitting down behind her, "I know you're awake. And I know you don't want to talk to me....but I want you to know I love you."
"I love you too." Rachel murmured, rolling over to face her mother, "Can I tell you something?"
"Of course." Sandra replied, stroking Rachel's hair and using the sheet to wipe away a few of her tears, "Anything."
"I understand why you did it." Rachel whispered, "I know you were so fed up, so caught up, and so angry with everything that your mind could only focus on that rage, that bitterness. I know that you thought that was the only way you could get it out and show him how angry he made you and how he made you feel. That's how I felt when I cut my wrists....telling you guys how frustrated and mad I was wasn't working, so I had to show you."
"I suppose...." Sandra said softly, not wanting to interrupt her daughter, but still showing she was listening, tears streaming down her cheeks.
Rachel looked down for a few seconds, then back up at Sandra, "You need to see someone and talk to them. I think you have anger management problems."
"I know." Sandra replied simply, squeezing Rachel's hands, "I know I do, and I'm getting help. I put you kids through a lot of hell, didn't I?"
Rachel nodded, "But there was some good stuff too." She stared into Sandra's eyes, "I don't forgive you for doing what you did....but I understand. And maybe I don't have to hate you. Sometimes people do what they think they have to do."
"I'm very glad to hear that." Sandra replied, kissing Rachel's forehead and tucking the covers in around her, "All I ask is that you and your sister take some time to work out your feelings....keeping it bottled up like I know you two will do is just going to make it worse. One day your feelings will come out. They always do."
"Did Daddy ever hit you?" Rachel asked, "I mean, like beat the crap out of you?"
"I don't want to talk about my relationship with your father honey." Sandra replied, "How do you remember Daddy the best?"
"I remember when we used to go to the beach....and camping....that kind of stuff. I don't want to remember the drinking and the yelling and the threats." Rachel whispered, "It's okay to try to only remember the good things, right?"
Sandra nodded, "You're allowed to remember him however you want to."
"I want to be alone." Rachel said after a few moments of silence, "Can I?"
Sandra nodded, "I'll see you in the morning sweetie."
"Night." Rachel replied, rolling back over and burying her head into the pillows, letting out a muffled scream. When did things get so jumbled up in her head? How could she just have had a conversation with the person responsible for killing her Dad?...and how could she not?
~*~
Rachel awoke to the sounds of her mother and Amy yelling, again. Looking at the clock, she was surprised to see it was well past 11 am. She stumbled out of bed, slipping her robe over her pajamas and walking downstairs sleepily, not fully awake.
"I hate you!" Amy yelled, her conversation the previous night obviously now a forgotten memory, "How could you be so awful?"
"What do you want me to do Amy? Do you want me to kill myself? Would that make me even in your book? Would you want me to go get a gun and end my life to make up for my wrongdoing? An eye for an eye? Is that what I have to do to earn your trust?"
Amy's eyes narrowed, her arms crossed over her chest, "That's too good for you, you murdering bitch."
Sandra's hand came into contact with Amy's cheek again, and Amy retorted with an equally strong slap, "You don't have the right to raise your hand to me!" Amy yelled loudly, "You don't have any rights to me!"
"I am your mother! I will always be your mother!" Sandra responded loudly, "No matter how much you wish I wasn't, that doesn't change genetics!"
"I thought you two had called a truce." Rachel mumbled, pulling some orange juice out of the refrigerator, "Would it be so hard for you two to stop fighting?"
Amy turned to face Rachel, her eyes blazing, "Mom's got a boyfriend. She's screwing her lawyer."
***Should I continue?***
So's Friends, so I'm sure I'll find it much easier to write after tomorrow....
Thanks for reading, don't forget to say a few words on your way out. This part only has an itsy bit of R&R, but there should be more in the next chapter. Hopefully I'll wrap up this Houston bit in the next part.
Katie.
***
Part 6:
Amy ran downstairs at the sound of her sister screaming, and as she descended the stairs, her mind was immediately going to the worst case scenario. She pictured her sister hurt, at knifepoint with their mother, having a complete breakdown...but nothing would have prepared her for what was about to happen.
Rachel was curled up in a ball on the floor, her face pale, shaking violently. Amy immediately knelt down beside her, "What's wrong? What happened?"
Rachel stared into the room, her eyes fixated on the nauseating scene in front of her. Amy met her gaze, following it to the sunroom, a room she hoped would remained closed off forever.
Blood still splattered the wall, a dark red stain on the white carpeting. Little bits of material-- she wasn't sure if it was skin or bones, and she really didn't want to know, scattered in the mess. Their father's eyeglasses laid a few feet away, the lens broken on the left side. The room was showered in shattered glass, the remains of their parent's last fight.
Amy turned away, her mind once again flooded with memories of that horrible night. This was the last thing she needed to see. She was sure it would haunt her dreams forever. She rubbed Rachel's arms, "Let's go in the other room, okay?"
Rachel didn't respond, her eyes still fixated on the gory room. She was almost in a trance, her body still and silent, unable to tear her eyes away from the sight she wished she had never seen.
"Girls, what are you doing? You shouldn't be in this part of the house." Sandra said from behind them, "Let's go into the living room."
Amy refused to meet her mother's eyes, her body full of hate. She wanted to back to New York, she wanted to try to forget this happened, try to lead a normal life. Shaking Rachel, she hissed, "Rach, come on."
"Rachel, honey? Are you okay?" Sandra asked, concern evident in her eyes, "Rach?"
The sight before her was engraved into Rachel's mind. She flashed back to the blood on her comforter, the blood on her pajamas, the dark scars on her wrists. Her whole life was filled with nothing but blood. Her body went cold and she looked up at her mother and sister before her eyes rolled back in her head and she slipped into unconsciousness.
~*~
"Rachel? Honey, wake up." a soothing voice whispered. For a moment, Rachel forgot where she was and why. All she could think about was how she was being taken care of, and how good it felt. And how soft her bed was. It took her a few seconds before she could open her eyes, and all of a sudden reality crashed back down on her.
"What happened?" Rachel asked, sitting up and letting her mother push her back against her pillows, "Where's Amy?"
Amy walked in with a glass of water and a damp cloth, "Oh, thank God, you're awake."
"What happened?" Rachel repeated, her mind in a dense fog, "What's going on?"
Amy sat beside her, giving her the water, "You don't remember?"
Putting the glass down on the bedside table, Rachel's eyes widened as the memories flashed before her eyes, "Oh God."
"It's okay...." Amy soothed, "You're going to be fine."
"It's been a long day for both of you, why don't you get some rest and tomorrow we'll talk." Sandra said, standing. She felt very uncomfortable with this whole situation. At first she had thought it would be a good idea for them to spend some time together, to help the girls come to terms with what happened, but the longer they were there, the more she regretted inviting them.
She remembered why they had sent Rachel away in the first place, she was clearly unstable, and didn't seem much better now. Feeling a pang of remorse and guilt, she kissed Rachel's forehead, not surprised when her daughter flinched. She looked at Amy, who was so angry, so full of hatred. Sandra knew she wouldn't be able to fix this, or even begin. They didn't trust her, they didn't want to even try. Not that she blamed them...she had killed their father.
She let herself out of the room, and Rachel sighed heavily, leaning back and shutting her eyes tightly, "Please tell me I slept away this week."
"Only about 15 minutes." Amy replied, "Are you okay, I mean, with what you saw?"
Rachel shook her head, looking down at the dried blood that stained her own bedding, "I can't believe he's gone. I mean, I knew it before, but now....I mean....he's really gone."
"I know." Amy replied, her voice cracking, "Daddy's really gone."
Amy crawled in bed next to Rachel, curling up under the blankets, "What are we going to do?"
"About what?" Rachel asked, staring up at the ceiling, "We can't leave. Mom wants to talk about this, and I don't know what to say to her. And I can't stand being in this house knowing what I know and seeing what I've seen."
"I don't know what to say to her either." Amy whispered, "I hate her, I really do. But....I don't know.....she's Mom." Amy wiped away a few tears that had fallen, "And as much as I want to strangle her with my bare hands, I know I can't. She and Daddy really had problems. Maybe he really did go after her."
"That doesn't change the fact that she....you know....shot him." Rachel countered, "But I know how she felt....I know what it's like to love people so much and be so angry and not know what to do."
"But she's an adult." Amy argued, "She should have controlled herself."
"I know." Rachel whispered, sighing, "I'm not saying she did the right thing...but sometimes the easiest thing to do is die."
Amy turned to face her sister, her eyes narrow, "Don't talk like that Rachel."
"I'm not saying I am going to kill myself." Rachel muttered, "I'm just saying that sometimes it's easier to face death than to face your feelings. Maybe Mom knew that if she killed him she'd get put to death or go to jail or something...she'd be able to escape her life."
Amy shrugged, "I don't know. Maybe she's just crazy."
"This whole house scares me." Rachel admitted, stroking a pink teddy bear that was once her favorite toy, "Is that crazy?"
Amy shook her head, "Not in the least. Listen, why don't you go to sleep and get some rest, if you get too scared just come knock on my door and you can sleep in my room."
Rachel nodded, yawning and looking at the clock. It was only 8:00 and yet it seemed so late. "See you in the morning."
"Sweet dreams." Amy replied, walking out and shutting off the light, "Want me to leave the lights on?"
"No." Rachel replied, waiting until Amy had shut the door and creeping over to the closet, turning the light on and shutting the door halfway. Just because she was 15 didn't mean that she couldn't be scared in the dark.
Sitting on her bed, she picked up the phone, trying her friend once more.
"Hello?" Came Ross's voice over the line, "Hello?"
"Ross, it's Rachel." Rachel said softly, relief pouring through her veins as she heard his deep voice, "Oh God, I miss you so much."
"I miss you too Rach." Ross replied, sitting down on his bed, "How's Texas?"
"Awful." Rachel moaned, telling him about everything that had happened, "And now I've got to sleep in this room again, and it just brings back everything that I hated about my life here. I want to go back to New York."
"You know, it's funny. When you were here, you always said how much you wanted to go back to Houston." Ross commented, "What changed your mind?"
Rachel sighed, "My Dad dying. It's so creepy to be sleeping in the house where he died. To know that just below my bedroom my Mom shot him. It's the worst feeling ever. I'd much rather be with you guys."
"We miss you too." Ross said softly, "Just a few more days though. And when you get back, we'll all go do something together, you'll forget all about Houston and how awful your trip is turning out."
"I wish you were here to kiss me goodnight." Rachel replied, "Or just to talk to. It's so quiet in this house."
"You're just used to busy New York City." Ross said soothingly, "You'll get used to the peace and quiet...when it's time to come back, you'll probably miss it."
"Doubtful." Rachel whispered, "I just wanted to hear your voice...or Monica's. Anyone friendly."
"I'm glad I got to talk to you, we just walked in the door, not 10 minutes ago."
Sighing, Rachel flopped back against her pillows, "I guess I should go...my Mom's going to flip if she finds out I'm making long distance calls."
"Night." Ross replied with a groan, "I'll call you tomorrow. I can't wait until you come home...."
"Have Monica call, just in case Mom doesn't want me having boys calling." Rachel said softly, "Night. I'll be dreaming of you."
They hung up and Rachel sighed, too wound up to sleep, yet more tired than she had been in ages. She looked around her room, not really knowing what to do. Her old books and magazines didn't really interest her anymore, and anything that would interest her was in her bedroom in New York.
Partially bored and definitely trying to pass the time, Rachel started to dig through the many cabinets in her room, thinking about how different she was 2 years ago. She smiled, coming across many things she had forgotten about, notes from classmates and former friends, birthday cards, poems and stories she had saved from school, pictures. Coming to the bottom of the drawer, she felt something sharp come in contact with her sensitive skin. Looking down, she saw something that had once been her favorite "toy", a pocket knife she had used to cut herself on many occasions.
Shuddering, she covered the knife back up, slamming the door shut. She moved to the next one, which contained some CD's and magazines, a framed picture of her family turned upside down and pushed to the back. Even then, she couldn't look at that picture without feeling remorse. She knew now would be ten times harder.
She sat back on her bed, filled with sadness as she remembered how her life was, how much it had changed. Thinking about the past usually had that effect. Her ears perked up when she heard Amy and her mother arguing in the hall.
"You two don't have to act so scared of me! I'd never hurt either of you!" Sandra fussed, the hurt obvious in her voice, "You know I'd never hurt you!"
"And what? You think it didn't hurt to kill our father!?" Amy yelled loudly, banging her fist on the wall, "You think it didn't hurt to tear us away from New York and bring us back to this place? Back to the scene of the crime? You don't think Rachel or I have a reason at all to be scared?"
"I love you and your sister, I wasn't in love with your father. And you know it was self defense." Sandra countered, "You and your sister should be grateful I'm giving you this opportunity to make your peace, you should be grateful that you get a chance to leave Betty's small apartment and get a bit of your lives back!"
Rachel could almost see the expression on Amy's face just by the tone of her voice, incredulous. "Oh gee, thanks Mom! Thank you for pulling us out of school, away from our friends! Thanks for bringing back all of the memories I'm trying to forget! Thanks for bringing Rachel back to the place where she tried to kill herself! You're doing a great job looking out for us!"
"There's no need to get that sarcastic attitude." Sandra replied, tapping her foot angrily, "Rachel's doing much better now, according to Betty, and you can't forget what happened. It's not healthy to block it out Amy."
"You should have thought about that while you were creating those memories." Amy spat out, "And Rachel isn't doing better! Have you seen her!? If you knew either of us at all, you would know we didn't want to come here, and the only reason we're here is because grandmother is making us!"
The slap Amy received echoed through the house, and Rachel quickly opened her bedroom door, her eyes wide with fear. Their mother wasn't one to easily raise her hand, and just by the stances each had taken, this fight would get much uglier if an intervention didn't take place.
"Mom, Amy, stop." Rachel said in the strongest voice she could muster up, "Please, just stop."
Sandra turned quickly to look at her younger daughter, "I thought you were asleep." she said, almost as an excuse for her behavior, "Amy and I were just talking."
Rachel crossed her arms, "How could anyone sleep with all of this noise? And why can't you two just not fight? If we have to live together until the end of the week, can't we just make an effort to try and get along?"
"She killed Dad!" Amy yelled, pointing at Sandra, "How could you take her side?"
Rachel threw her hands into the air, "I'm not taking sides! I'm just saying that we have to try, I can't take you guys fighting for the rest of this trip. And I really don't want to think about Dad, okay!? So stop bringing it up every ten seconds!"
"How could you NOT think about him?" Amy retorted angrily, "All I think of when I'm here is how he's GONE!"
"I know!" Rachel yelled, stomping angrily, "But unlike you, I'm trying to think of other things! You've got 16 years of memories in this house, surely one of them is a happy one!"
Amy's hand was shaking as she pointed her finger at Rachel, saying in a hateful tone, "It's not the same, you weren't here, you didn't hear the shot that killed him. You don't have any right to say what I should and should not do or feel. You were too much of a coward to stay around and tough it out, you got to live the easy life in New York, you got to run away from this place! And where were your happy memories the night you slit your wrists open?! Where Rachel? Where?!"
Rachel took a step back, tears in her eyes, "Just because I wasn't here doesn't mean that I don't miss him, that it doesn't hurt he's gone Amy! It wasn't my choice to leave, and every single damn day I wished I was back here! You think it was easy to be forgotten like that? To never get a call or a letter? To come back here and see that NOTHING had changed in my bedroom? To know my whole family just pretended like I didn't exist anymore, like I had died that night? Do you honestly think it was easy to be so fucked up in a new place? To not make ANY friends for TWO years? To have to hide these awful scars and my entire past just so I could get a few people to acknowledge I was actually alive?! Do you know what it's like to have someone watching your every move 24 hours a day, not even trusting you to go to the movies? To join any clubs at school?"
Rachel turned away from her mother and sister, breathing heavily and wiping her tears away furiously, "I hated it there. I hated it here. I hated everything. And just when I thought things couldn't get worse, they did. My father is gone! My mother may end up gone too! I may never see Jill again, and the life I had tried to make just right for me in New York is being disrupted right when I had it perfect!"
"Oh boo hoo for you." Amy snapped, "While you were crying and pouting in New York, some of us had real problems. While you went to your new school, with your new life, and your new friends, Jill and I had to live this one, the one you left behind!"
"That's enough!" Sandra yelled, grabbing each daughter's shoulder, "Both of you had the best lives that you could have in these circumstances. You both never did without, you had a roof over your head, food on the table. I don't want to hear another word out of you. I'm sorry your father's gone, and if I could change that I would....but I can't. And I can't change everything that happened when you two were growing up. But your father and I, we did the best we could. Raising children isn't easy. Being an adult isn't easy. And when you're not ready, it's even worse. But I'm sick and tired of you two whining over who had it worse. You should be grateful that we weren't living on the streets somewhere!"
Rachel and Amy looked down, both silent. After a few seconds, Amy muttered, "Why? Why did you do it Mom?"
Crying softly, Sandra wrapped her arms around her two girls, pulling them close, "I don't know, I don't know...sometimes we make bad decisions. Sometimes we do the wrong thing....I know you both are hurting. And I'm not saying I did the right thing, I'm not saying I don't regret it, because I do. It was the worst decision of my life, the one thing that will plague me forever. I'm so sorry I hurt you, and I'm so sorry I took away your Daddy. And I know you'll both hate me forever, and I'm sorry I did that to you, I'm sorry I broke your trust and your love."
Amy started to sob, wrapping her arms around Sandra, whom she had always been very close to, "I don't hate you for what you did Mom, I just hate what you did. You could be a serial killer for all I care, I'll still love you."
Sandra looked at Rachel, who took a step backwards with a shrug, "I...I just don't know." she whispered, fleeing to her room and slamming the door.
Rachel collapsed on the bed, sobbing into her pillow. For the first time, her father's death felt real. Before, she knew it had happened she knew he was gone, but she never felt it as much as she did tonight. Curling up in her pink bedspread, she let all of her tears and sorrow escape, grief filling her whole body and setting off a faucet that she wasn't sure would turn off.
Sometime later that night, while she still cried silently into her bear, Sandra came in, sitting down behind her, "I know you're awake. And I know you don't want to talk to me....but I want you to know I love you."
"I love you too." Rachel murmured, rolling over to face her mother, "Can I tell you something?"
"Of course." Sandra replied, stroking Rachel's hair and using the sheet to wipe away a few of her tears, "Anything."
"I understand why you did it." Rachel whispered, "I know you were so fed up, so caught up, and so angry with everything that your mind could only focus on that rage, that bitterness. I know that you thought that was the only way you could get it out and show him how angry he made you and how he made you feel. That's how I felt when I cut my wrists....telling you guys how frustrated and mad I was wasn't working, so I had to show you."
"I suppose...." Sandra said softly, not wanting to interrupt her daughter, but still showing she was listening, tears streaming down her cheeks.
Rachel looked down for a few seconds, then back up at Sandra, "You need to see someone and talk to them. I think you have anger management problems."
"I know." Sandra replied simply, squeezing Rachel's hands, "I know I do, and I'm getting help. I put you kids through a lot of hell, didn't I?"
Rachel nodded, "But there was some good stuff too." She stared into Sandra's eyes, "I don't forgive you for doing what you did....but I understand. And maybe I don't have to hate you. Sometimes people do what they think they have to do."
"I'm very glad to hear that." Sandra replied, kissing Rachel's forehead and tucking the covers in around her, "All I ask is that you and your sister take some time to work out your feelings....keeping it bottled up like I know you two will do is just going to make it worse. One day your feelings will come out. They always do."
"Did Daddy ever hit you?" Rachel asked, "I mean, like beat the crap out of you?"
"I don't want to talk about my relationship with your father honey." Sandra replied, "How do you remember Daddy the best?"
"I remember when we used to go to the beach....and camping....that kind of stuff. I don't want to remember the drinking and the yelling and the threats." Rachel whispered, "It's okay to try to only remember the good things, right?"
Sandra nodded, "You're allowed to remember him however you want to."
"I want to be alone." Rachel said after a few moments of silence, "Can I?"
Sandra nodded, "I'll see you in the morning sweetie."
"Night." Rachel replied, rolling back over and burying her head into the pillows, letting out a muffled scream. When did things get so jumbled up in her head? How could she just have had a conversation with the person responsible for killing her Dad?...and how could she not?
~*~
Rachel awoke to the sounds of her mother and Amy yelling, again. Looking at the clock, she was surprised to see it was well past 11 am. She stumbled out of bed, slipping her robe over her pajamas and walking downstairs sleepily, not fully awake.
"I hate you!" Amy yelled, her conversation the previous night obviously now a forgotten memory, "How could you be so awful?"
"What do you want me to do Amy? Do you want me to kill myself? Would that make me even in your book? Would you want me to go get a gun and end my life to make up for my wrongdoing? An eye for an eye? Is that what I have to do to earn your trust?"
Amy's eyes narrowed, her arms crossed over her chest, "That's too good for you, you murdering bitch."
Sandra's hand came into contact with Amy's cheek again, and Amy retorted with an equally strong slap, "You don't have the right to raise your hand to me!" Amy yelled loudly, "You don't have any rights to me!"
"I am your mother! I will always be your mother!" Sandra responded loudly, "No matter how much you wish I wasn't, that doesn't change genetics!"
"I thought you two had called a truce." Rachel mumbled, pulling some orange juice out of the refrigerator, "Would it be so hard for you two to stop fighting?"
Amy turned to face Rachel, her eyes blazing, "Mom's got a boyfriend. She's screwing her lawyer."
***Should I continue?***