Chapter Seven

Chapter Seven

I slipped and ordered some Klonopin on the internet not my best choice, but without a prescription I didn’t have much of a choice. It’s amazing what you can find on the internet. If I really wanted, I could buy a two headed cat from the market place. It’s a good thing I don’t like cats.

This was a bad night. I didn’t even hear dad come in, “Sam, I have office hours. You want to tag along?”

“What?” I was staring at a recorded episode of Days of Our Life.

“You want to come with me to the office? We can grab dinner afterward.”

“Do believe in life after death?” I asked not looking at him. My eyes still glued to the TV.

“Where’s that coming from?”

“Nevermind.”

“Well? Do you want to come with me?”

“No.” He stood there a moment and left. A moment later he poked his head in the doorway to the living room. “Yes…I believe in life after death. There has to be.” He turned again and was gone.

As soon as he was gone. I ransacked his room. He shouldn’t have left his Ativan in plain sight on his night stand knowing I would check there first. It was careless of him.I popped one in my mouth. With just one fleeting moment of Lucien and went upstairs to wallow in self- pity. So Finn.

I took one too many zombie pills last night. I never made it downstairs today. After that morning Finn made his appearance, I lost track of time. I think it was mid-February. A definite chill filled the air. The long monochrome of winter caused a bleak shadow over my bedroom, reminding me of that cold December day. By the sound of the tapping on the glass, rain was beginning to turn to ice. I looked at the undraped window frame from where I lay in the security of my covers. Tiny crystal-shaped ice stars formed on the windowpane. For the first time in years, New Mexico had record-breaking snow. For the last couple days, blizzard conditions had kept dad home from work, and school had been closed.

My room felt like an icebox. No matter how many blankets I piled on my bed, the chill crept through to my bones. I was content staying curled up in a ball on my bed all day. What I really wanted was to disappear. Something happened to me when the light overshadowed Lucien and me. Whoever took me and brought me back did something to me. I wasn’t the same. I was different. Cassiel knew, but he wasn’t talking.

I opened my eyes for a moment when I thought I heard Dad’s quiet footsteps in my room. “Sammy, its way past noon,” Dad said is a low voice. I paid no attention to him. Sleep beckoned me more. I wanted to dream. I wanted to piece together the flashes of memories the shadows didn’t take. I had to know what they did to me.

I began to dream when all of a sudden I felt Dad’s hand on my arm pulling me from the comfort of my bed. I felt something hit my head. I rolled over. And lifted the package. It was opened. Damm. It was my escape.

“You want to explain?” He shouted pulling my arm.

“Dad, stop, l-let go of me!” I shrieked and kicked all the way down the stairs. He dragged me into the living room and sat me in his La-z-Boy chair.

“Now–– are you going to tell me what’s going on with you? Are you sick––in pain? Why do you need those pills? How long have you been using them? What else are you doing? Should I check for needle marks!” Dad shook me. “What happened to you? You’ve got to tell me! Did Lucien hurt you?” What did Lucien do to me? He broke my heart; that is what he did. If I hadn’t lost it that night, I lost it now. I had a full-fledged meltdown right in front of my father. He just stood there watching. He had no idea what to do with me. I didn’t blame Dad for what he was about to do. I guess me not getting out of bed was the final straw for him. I was just so exhausted. I just didn’t feel like getting out of bed.

“Sammy, please, this is crazy. I realize the doctor said you weren’t—raped. If that’s the case, you’ve got to tell me what happened,” Dad pleaded. After I sobbed like a baby, I just stared at him, thinking of something to say. How could I tell him?

“I miss mom and Finn… and Lucien. I’m sorry I bought the pills. I swear I haven’t taken anything.” My dad left the room and second later he was back holding his empty bottle of Ativan.

“You haven’t been going to your appointments with Dr. Friday?” He was my therapist. I hated going to him. All he did was pick his nose.

“I know. He just wants to pump me up with Zoloft.”

“You’d rather take these? Or buy shit on the internet that’s not even regulated.”

“What’s eating you up Sammy? You won’t tell me where you really were when you disappeared.” Daddy I don’t remember, I thought.

There was no way to say, Oh, by the way, a ship came to take Lucien to his planet, and I went with him. But his alien relatives didn’t want me, so they did what they wanted to me; then they took my memory and brought me back? Dad stood in front of me with red-rimmed eyes. His gaze was relentless; it was obvious he wasn’t backing down. I turned away, averting his burning stare, focusing my eyes on the living room walls, wishing for a crack I could slip away in. I could just imagine what he must have been thinking.

“Samantha––I can stay here––all day.” Dad frowned, looking at me a few moments, then turned and walked away.

He retreated but for how long? Why couldn’t he delve into cleaning or grading papers? Dad paced the floor in front of me until finally he gave up and walked into the kitchen. I caught a glimpse of him as he picked up the phone on the wall. I heard his voice speaking bits of gibberish, but my mind was miles away. I couldn’t make out what he was actually saying.

Dad hung up the phone. A few seconds later I heard the sound of ceramic plates clanging. He must be emptying the dishwasher. Bang. “Damn it anyhow!” Dad barked. I sat there, staring out into space. I could hear him huff and puff. Twice he came in to ask me if I wanted anything to eat, but twice I refused. With an empty expression on my face, I continued to sit in Dad’s recliner motionless and speechless. He came back and stared. I looked at him, not saying a word. He got the message, turned and walked away.

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