“Yes. Lucy took it all to Goodwill over the weekend,” replied Shelly.
I swallowed the imaginary cotton ball that had lodged itself in my throat, and blinked back the rapid onslaught of tears. This couldn’t be happening. I needed to leave, but something stopped me. Maybe it was a sense of loyalty to my brother, or maybe it was my need to cut my ties with these people once and for all. I didn’t know. All I was sure of was that it’s what made me push my chair back, and stand.
“Kennedy, where are you going?” My father asked. His scowl didn’t scare me anymore, and that said something.
“I can’t believe you.” My voice betrayed the turmoil wreaking havoc with my heart. I turned around, ignoring my fathers’ “where are you going?” and raced up the stairs. Thankfully I’d worn jeans, and ballet pumps instead of heals, and a dress. I couldn’t imagine running up the marble staircase without slipping, and kissing the floor.
I stopped in front of my brother’s old room, my hand shaking as it twisted the knob. My fathers’ footsteps echoed not far behind me, but I didn’t care. Not in that moment. Not ever.
The dark grey walls that used to be adorned with posters of Charlie’s favorite bands, certificates, and medals were bare. His built-in closets, and drawers stood empty, and not a single piece of his furniture had been left behind.
I sucked in a lung full of air, and still struggled for breath. His room was empty…like…like…he was never even here.
“How could you,” I whispered, aware that my face was damp with tears. I spun to face my father, the man who had discarded me from the moment I was born, and blamed me for my mothers’ death. “Do you feel nothing? Or are you happy to have a baby on the way to replace the son you lost?”
My fathers’ eyes turned cold - well colder then they usually were when he looked at me - and his nostrils flared. “Be careful how you speak to me,” he warned angrily. “I am still your father.”
Shelly had joined us, but she was smart enough to stay behind my fathers’ bulky frame. At least she would hear what I had to say before I left this Godforsaken hellhole.
I snorted. “You haven’t been my father in nineteen years. But you loved Charlie, I know you did, and yet you’ve thrown out his things like he meant nothing to you.” He opened his mouth to speak, but I put up my hand to silence him. That seemed to anger him more.
“I accepted that you didn’t want me, that you didn’t love me,” a sob broke free, “but Charlie deserves better.”
Before he could respond, I pushed past him into the hallway. I looked back at Shelly, and that’s when it caught my eye - the necklace around her neck. It was a beautiful white gold chain, with two delicate hearts intertwined and joined in the center by a ruby. I recognized it from the pictures Charlie had shown me of our mother. She was beautiful, and Charlie had told me everything about her that he could remember. How she used to sing to him at night, and read him bedtime stories. Thinking about that made the ache in my chest intensify, and along with it came the discernment that I had nothing left of this life.
I stepped forward, and gripped the necklace in my hands. “This belonged to my mother,” I snapped. I tugged the necklace, and when it broke, I clasped it in my hands like it was a life source. Shelly gasped, but my back was already turned as I walked back towards the staircase. I snatched the one and only picture of me, my mother, and Charlie from the wall beside the stairs, holding it to my chest. Lucy was standing at the door, and the sight of her was the final straw that broke me.
She stopped me before I could leave, and whispered in my ear so that my father, and Shelly wouldn’t hear. “Your brothers’ things are boxed up, and in my garage. I’ll let you know when you come get them, okay?”
I only nodded, barely processing a single word. It was time for me to leave. My feet started moving again, but in my state I misjudged the two steps leading to the driveway. With blurry, tear filled eyes, and the darkness that had fallen, I could barely see. My toe caught on the top step, and my body hurtled forward, landing on the hard ground. The glass from the photo frame in my hand shattered, and I cried out when the glass sliced my palm. With the little fight that I had left, I managed to lift myself up, and climb into my jeep. My knee was burning, blood seeping through my jeans, and my hand throbbed. My shirt was already damp from where I cradled my wounded hand, but I gripped my steering wheel.
As the house behind me blurred away, my body wracked with sobs. For Charlie. For a mother I never knew. And for the little girl inside me who lost the only person who ever loved her.