It's a Sunday. It's morning and it's sunny out. The air is warm. This is the day I go home. I'm already in a cab on my way there. I'm in a worn in cab by myself. There was no one around to come with me.

I wish Kyla were around. I wish she lived near by. I wish she were next to me for this drive. I wish it were Kyla bringing me home.

I wish too much.

I always wished for a home. I never had one growing up. I only had a house. I had a bedroom. A bedroom with four photo covered walls and a ceiling with a fan. But it wasn't what so many others had. I couldn't feel anything inside that house. I never felt a family there. I never felt a childhood. I never felt anything. I lost a home when my father walked out the front door. When I couldn't follow him.

When I couldn't follow him because I could barely walk myself.

It was only two years ago that I found what I'd been missing. When we bought our Malibu beach house together. That's when I found a family. That's when my house turned into a home.

Now here I stand on a sunny Sunday morning in front of our home. Now I stare at our front door. Suddenly it doesn't look right. Suddenly it looks like the door my dad walked through. Suddenly I'm a little kid. Suddenly I'm that kid without a home.

Once again I'm staring at a house.

But I know it's far more than that. I know what lies between those walls. I know what's below that ceiling. It's so much more than empty space. A war zone is brewing behind that front door. My former life is waiting inside. My former life with all it's bullet memories. Bullet memories waiting to shoot right through me. I know what rests inside is going to be worse than the quad. I know it's going to hit so much harder than the fresh air that swept around me.

This is going to hurt. This is going to be hell.

I crutch my way up the large stairs and push through the front door. I push through it and hold my breath knowing exactly what's to come.

I had no fucking clue what was to come. I had no clue this house was so much more than a war zone. This house already went through the battle. This house only holds what's left. It only holds the dead bodies. This house is a cemetery.

I come to a full stop in the doorway. My breathing stops. My breath disappears as I see the first ghost. As I see her checkered vans sitting happily beside the welcome matte. One is flopped over the other. They're teasing me. They're pointing their fingers and snickering. They're whispering to me that she's just inside.

And I'm still foolish enough to believe them.

I wobble through the living room. I hear my breath coming out faster and faster. I feel the tears falling harder and harder. I find her surfer magazines on top of the wooden coffee table. One of them is even open. One of them is still waiting for her. Waiting for her to come back and pick up where she left off.

Just like me, they're waiting for her to simply come back.

My lips are quivering as I limp away from this room. As I try with all my might to move faster. As I try to swing my body with those heavy crutches faster.

I don't even know what I'm running from. But I know I'm never going to escape it.

I pass through the kitchen. My eyes catch her Lucky Charms on the counter. The box is opened on top. I know the cereal is stale inside. I move faster. I try to move before anything else jumps out at me. But I'm not fast enough. I can see her scribbled grocery list on the fridge. I see it held there by a red plastic letter A. I almost trip over myself as I hobble down the hall. I almost fall over as I reach the bedroom. Our bedroom.

I hold my hands out to the panels of the door way. I hold on for support. My crutches are on the ground. They weren't strong enough. They weren't good for anything.

This is the last place I should be. This is where the hardest battle was fought. This room has the most dead bodies. They're scattered all over the floor. They're scattered like our clothes covering the wooden floor. Like our dirty laundry hanging on the corner chair.

Our lives are still inside this room. Her life is still living in this room.

I gasp as I see her favorite beater tank top. I see it hiding inside her favorite hoodie. I see it still molded to her form. I can still see the way she ripped both right from her body. The way she tossed them behind her to the chair. The way a playfully sexy grin graced her face. The way her hair came undone from her loose ponytail. The way she sauntered over to me.

I close my eyes. I can still smell the cigarette smoke wafting from our clothes. I can still smell her shampoo. I can still smell our last night.

I bite my bottom quavering lip. I can feel my nose scrunching painfully as my eyes shut tighter. They're so afraid to look anywhere. They don't want to see what they know they're going to find. What they've been finding. They don't want to see everything unchanged. They don't want to see everything cruelly as it was.

I take an eternity to open my eyes. And when I do I find what I've been fearing. I find her. I see her draped over the bed. I see her comfort food. I see her treasured photo album. I see her favorite song.

I heave myself over to it. I flop down on the bed and hold her to me. I'm breathless as I hold her beloved afghan to my chest. I smell her in the wool patches. I feel her in it's soft threads. I lose myself in it's meaning. I lose myself in everything she's lost. I cry because she needs it. I cry because she needs me.

I cry so hard. And I only cry harder when I feel something hop into my lap. I only weep as Hunter digs his black paws into my thighs. My soaked eyes stare at him. Stare at our perfectly black cat. The cat she never wanted. The cat she wished were a dog. The cat that would sleep on her stomach during lazy Sunday afternoons. The cat that one day became her dog. The cat that eventually became hers.

Through blurry eyes I see him looking at me. I see him clueless. He doesn't know what's been lost. He doesn't know she's not coming back. He doesn't know his napping partner is forever gone. I hug him to me. I try to comfort him. But he hops out of my arms. He hops out and lightly pads his way down the hall.

I'm all alone. I hear the waves crashing outside. I see the sun piercing through every window. I see our pictures on the walls. I see our smiling faces in the frames. I see my perfume on the dresser. I see her watch beside it. I see my wrecked reflection in the mirror hanging on the open closet door. I see my wet face. I see my broken knee in it's splint. I see my broken self.

I see myself alone.

I fall back to the bed. I roll to the side. I feel the pain in my leg. I don't even care. I roll over more. I feel the pain escalate. I still don't care. I bury my head into my hands. I bury into them and weep.

I'm weeping. I'm screaming. I'm yelling. Panting. Pleading. I'm lost. My eyes close. Everything becomes a blur. This room. This house. That cat. The time that is ticking by.

I open them and I don't know what time it is. I don't know where Hunter is. But I do know one thing. The vans are still in the hall. The magazines are still opened. The groceries are still waiting to be bought.

Everything is still the same. Everything is lost. She is still gone. I'm still alone. I am still lost.

I hiccup and stare at the wall before me. I stare at the tree tops I can barely see through the window. I reach behind me and pull something from my back jean pocket. I pull the rectangular card in front of my face. The top left corner is already bent. I hold it there before my eyes. Letting it block those tree tops. Letting it block the black and white pictures on the wall.

I stare at the blue numbers before me. Her handwriting isn't scribbled. Her handwriting is round and girly. Her handwriting is perfect. I'm not running from her handwriting. I'm not running from my last memory with her. Not at all. I'm running back to her. I'm running towards our last time together. I'm only running a few hours back.

"It'll be ok, Ashley."

Her eyes completely contradicted her words. Her eyes screamed that her words were a lie. She knew it. I knew it too. I knew it deep inside. I knew it all over. I knew it wasn't going to be ok. I knew it was going to be hard. I knew what awaited me on the other end of this cab ride was going to tear me apart.

That's why I didn't say anything. That's why I could barely nod. That's why my chin quivered.

We stood outside for a few moments. We stood there till the driver coughed. Till we both knew it was time. Till we both knew I had to leave.

She moved towards me to give me a hug. I awkwardly returned it. And it wasn't just because of my crutches.

She whispered "Bye Ashley."

I felt a little surprised when I whispered "Thank you Spencer". She looked just as surprised when I pulled away. She smiled half heartedly. Somehow she knew this was a time that she probably shouldn't give me a full one. She knew I was fragile. And she knew it wasn't long till I was going to fall to the ground. It wasn't long till I was going to break into a million little pieces.

I don't know how she knew. I don't even know if she did. Maybe I wanted her to know. Maybe I needed her to.

I tried to give her a smile. But it only made my chin shake more. It only made one tear fall off my cheek. And as I turned to get in the cab I think she saw the tear. I think she had one of her own.

"Wait."

I held open the door and saw her concerned face. For once she looked worried. For once she didn't look so composed.

"Here."

She held out a card. A card just like the kind you used as flash cards in grade school. The kind that helped you remember something important. Remember something you needed to know.

"I know we're going to see each other still when you come back for therapy. But if you ever need..."

She glimpsed down at her shoes. I looked there too.

"...if you ever wanna talk or anything, give me a call."

I looked back to her eyes and saw she meant it. I nodded and softly thanked her. I slammed the door shut and gripped her card tighter. I held it so tightly between my fingers.

I held it just as I'm holding it now. I stared at the numbers in the same way I'm staring at them now.

As I lie here on our bed my grip strengthens on them. I hold her card so close as I reach out for the phone. As my fingers shakily find the blue numbers before me.

I lay on the bed and cry harder as the dull ringing begins. As it reminds me of the hospital. As it reminds me of my lonely heart beating.

Her "hello" rattles me. My sobs shake me. Shake me as I hear them run over the photo covered walls. As they bounce off the ceiling with the fan. As they echo through this empty house. As they remind me of how alone I really am. How empty everything really is.

I hear her talking and wish she were here. I wish I could see her. I wish she could help me. I wish I weren't so alone.

I close my eyes and wish I were home.

I close my eyes and wish too much.