When I first got here, Kirsten was afraid to leave me alone anywhere in the close proximity of her house. I guess she thought I might try and steal something when no one was looking or something, but that's all changed. now on some days, I manage to get home before anyone else, and it's amazing how quiet the house is. Back home, someone was always yelling and screaming, whether it was at the television, or someone else, there was never a calm silence like there is here.
I leave the main house and walk along the side of the pool over to the pool house and pull out my key, shoving it in the lock and opening the door as I throw my book bag down and turn back around.
A few days ago, Seth decided to be adventurous in his Chem class, and almost killed everyone in a ten foot radius of him, earning him two weeks in detention, and a very severe punishment from Kirsten and Sandy. No comic books, video games, computer, phone, or anything else that will make him the least bit happy for the next month. When Seth basically whined about it, they decided to take his punishment a step further, and now we're supposed to stay away from each other for a little while, in hopes that he might actually learn a lesson from this. I don't think he really will, but no one's going to voluntarily say that out loud, especially Seth.
I walk into the back door of the house and quickly go over to the fridge, pushing things out of the way until I find a bottle of water sitting in the back and pull it out, unscrewing the cap and taking a quick swig of the drink.
As I screw the cap back on, I set the bottle down on the counter and stand still in my spot, listening to the sound of silence around me. It doesn't seem to last though, because once my mind finds a blank spot, it tends to fill it with the unwelcome thoughts from my past.
I pull one of the stools out from under the counter and sit down, letting my head fall into my hands as I rest my elbows on the counter.
I haven't had any abnormal run-in's with Kirsten since the other night, luckily, but I have a feeling she's worrying about me, something I'm not used to at all. Everyone here, they scare me in a way. They're nice, and caring, and all of these things I'm just not used to. I never will be, and I hate the fact that I will probably never really fit in with this family. They want me to, and I sure as hell wouldn't mind it, but every time I let my guard down, someone takes a swing at me and successfully knocks me out. I cant let that happen again, no matter how nice the Cohen's are to me, and I'm sure they'll eventually get tired of me never really trusting them, and decide to get rid of me like mom did.
I sigh dramatically and pick my water bottle up from the counter, about to walk back to the pool house when the phone rings and I drop the water bottle, slightly startled by the intrusive noise. I bend over and pick it up before walking over to the counter and picking up the phone, holding it to my ear as I say 'Hello', my voice slightly different from being startled.
"Hello, my name is Ron Trevor's, I'm the private investigator following Dawn Atwood, can I please speak to Sandy Cohen please?"
My heart seems to jump into my throat at the mere mention of my mom's name, and my feet seem to be rooted in their current spot as I clear my breath and tell the P.I. That Sandy's not home right now.
"This must be Seth than. Can you give your dad a very important message for me?"
I unconsciously nod my head, not really comprehending the fact that he can't see my actions when he repeats his question.
"Sure, what do you need me to tell him?"
"Can you tell him that it seems that Mrs. Atwood was in a bad accident, and passed away in route to the hospital last night? Let him know that she's still been staying at that address I gave him last time, just in case he decides to come by for some reason. Make sure your dad gets the message, thank you."
The investigator talks fast and hangs up, and the phone slowly slides from my hand and clatters to the floor as I sink to my knees, all the feeling draining from my body as I try to comprehend what I just heard.
The silence quickly gets to me, and I grab the edge of the counter, shakily pulling myself up so that I'm standing, and walk towards Sandy's home office, not caring about the fact that I know he hates people being in there.
When I get into the darkened room, I turn on a light and immediately start moving papers and files around, looking for anything that has the mere mention of her name on it, and looking for mainly an address. Papers fall to the floor and into the office chair as my anger quickly rises, and I don't think twice as I pick up a glass plaque from his desk and angrily throw it against the far wall, watching it shatter into hundreds of pieces. I stop my movements as I watch the glass litter the floor, before turning back to his desk and going through all the drawers I can get my hands on.
Finally, I find a small, folded up piece of paper sitting in the middle drawer of his desk, and I open it up, looking at the name Dawn Atwood scrawled across the top. I shove the paper in my pocket and quickly dart out of the room, making my way to the pool house where I grab my ready packed bag and throw it over my shoulder, checking my back pocket for my wallet before running back into the house and calling for a taxi.
My body shakes as I walk outside to the curb and wait impatiently for the cab, contemplating whether or not I should scrap the cab and go get my trusty bike. Fortunately the cab comes before I come to a decision, and I slide into the backseat, giving the driver the address on the paper as he pulls away from the curb.
The words of the Private Investigator play over and over in my head as I watch Newport slip past me and out of sight, the slums of Chino quickly appearing, and making me nauseous as the bile begins to rise in my throat.
Why couldn't she have stayed? Why didn't she stay and let the Cohen's help her get better, and stay for my sake? I guess it was just a lost cause. We were never meant to be a family, to be happy, or have anyone care about us. We're just another white trash family that lives on the wrong side of the tracks, who's future, no matter who you are, is going to land you in prison.
The cab stops quicker than I expected, and I quietly step out of the car, handing the driver the money for the ride before watching him drive off. The address is for an apartment building, and as I look up at it, I would have to say that this is a very big step down from the house we previously occupied before my mom decided to dump me the first time.
I sigh dramatically, not knowing what exactly I'm doing here as I open the door to the building and start climbing the creaking steps, a strong, nauseating stench filling my nose as I do so.
When I finally find the apartment number I'm looking for, I knock on the rotting wood softly, not expecting anyone to really answer. After a few minutes of silence, I reach my hand down to turn the knob, but jump back slightly when the door suddenly jerks open and A.J. looks at me angrily.