Coming Home

Her hands shook as she reached out to grasp the door knob to the room she vowed to never enter again. Her heart was racing, her breathe seemed stuck in her lungs afraid to come out because then it was be closer to that room, that horrible room that held so much pain and misery. Finally, after what seemed liked an eternity it slowly creeped out in small puffs no doubt racing far away from that door and what lay on the other side of it. Eyes closed, hand on the cold metal she began to turn the handle feeling the resistance as if the room didn’t want her to be there any more than she wanted to be, but as she applied force it slowly gave way with a groan and she felt the door open, the smell of dust and decay rushed out assaulting her nose causing her to open her eyes and come face to face with the past. The room that been hers since she was three and had come to live with her grandmother after the death of her parents seemed to stare back at her not welcoming but more like accusingly, as if to make her feel ashamed for leaving it for so long. She looked around the dimly lit room then felt to the side of the wall for the switch, a ghost of a smile formed as she felt the ridges of the plate that she knew would be a picture of balloons of many colours that is, if any of the colour remained. light flooded the room and the ghost of a smile Blossomed into a warm one,but it was quickly to be driven away by the knot of pain forming in her chest, and the beginning of the burn behind her eyes, as the memories fought to be brought to the surface all at once that had been kept sealed away for so long. The white wrought iron four post style bed was in the same place as she remembered, the Picture of the dancing kittens faded almost to the point of being unrecognizable still hung above it, she remembered her grandmother saying, now how can anyone feel sad with kittens dancing over your head ? which always made her laugh. But sadly even the kittens couldn’t make her laugh today. She turned her head away from the faded picture, her gaze now falling upon her desk her grandmother had surprised her with on her 10th birthday, she remembered how it gleamed from the cleaning her grandmother had given it with that oil that always filled the room with the tangy scent of lemons. she slowly walked over to it let her fingers gently graze its surface, each touch making lines in the dust that now covered it, but she didn’t pull back, instead she pulled out the chair and slowly sat down not realizing until she saw drops hitting the surface of the desk that she was crying. it Was then that she allowed the past to bubble up to the surface bringing with it the good, the bad and sadly, the reality of why after 20 years of running away she had finally come home to make things right but once again her grandmothers words rang out, a dollar short and day late missy, which made the tears pour from her eyes and all the pain she had buried so deep for so long was finally free to rise up and rise it did consuming her in racks of pain and sorrow burning her as no fire ever could. For a while the sounds of her crying echoed through the room, until finally it started to subside leaving her feeling drained and exhausted. She wiped her eyes with the sleeve of her shirt and started to get up when something caught her eye, it was a corner of an envelope peeking out from under a pile of books, she pulled it out and looked at her grandmother‘s hand writing across the front spelling her name. She looked at the envelope for what seemed like an eternity before slowly turning it around and breaking the seal and lifting the fold to see a letter Inside. With trembling fingers she lifted the letter up out of its case and unfolded it and began to read. “ my dearest Lilly “ it began and for a minute the tears threatened to return but she forced them away, at least for the moment and she continued to read, “ I don’t know if you will ever read this letter but I will write it anyways and hope for the best, which is, in this old world is the best that anyone can hope for. first I want you to know I don’t blame you for leaving, you did what you felt was the best way to deal with the pain, my only regret is I caused it. I didn’t want to leave you my darling child, but the good lord was calling me home and that’s one call you got no say in so I had to go. But know this, I was always with you, each town you spent time in, the successes I celebrated with you and I sat beside you during the failures though you never knew. I watched you search for peace but never really finding it because I knew it lay here, in this room, in this house, your home. that day when I was feeling so tired I brought you a gift it’s in the drawer I hope you can find it in yourself to finish it, because it’s so amazing it be a sin not to, but I am getting sidetracked, as I said I was so tired so I just sat down on your bed for a second but as I said the good master was calling and I had to go, just sorry that’s where you had to find me my child, and just curious but why in heavens name didn’t we ever change that light switch plate? She actually laughed at this point though tears were sliding down her face once again. she wiped her eyes and continued reading, but anyways my darling girl the main thing is you found your way home where you belong and you can finish what you started before I turned your world upside down. I love you, and was finished with love, your biggest fan. G. she stared at the letter now soaked in tears but these tears were not of sorrow but of healing, she looked to the drawer in her desk and slowly opened it, reaching in she pulled out an envelope covered in dust but she could still see the title written in her own handwriting, The road home. She held it against her chest for a minute then reaching back into the desk she found her favourite pen, most certain it wouldn’t work but to her surprise, or maybe it was another gift from her grandmother it still worked so ignoring the dust she placed the book she had started the day her grandmother passed on the desk and began to write...