Chapter One - Taylor
I have been in this car for almost four hours and my ass is completely numb. Part of me, a very small part, was excited to finally be going home. It has been almost five years since I had stepped foot in Brookside, Massachusetts. And that small part of me missed this place. However, there was a much larger part of me that was terrified to return.
My fingers began to cramp as I gripped the steering wheel tightly with both hands. I could feel my heart racing in my chest and my breathing was uneven. A thin layer of sweat glistened on my skin. To help myself cool down, I turned the air conditioning on low.
“Calm down, you big baby!” I mumbled to myself. “We are just going home. Everything will be fine.” As I took a deep breath, I rolled my shoulders a few times in a failed attempt to relax.
I wanted to believe that. I needed to believe it.
But everything was not fine. I was not returning home for a fun visit with friends and family. No, I was here to attend a funeral of an old friend.
Travis. The funeral was for Travis.
How could this be real? At twenty-three years old, I am driving home for Travis’s funeral. Tomorrow morning he would be laid to rest. In the morning we would bury a twenty-two year old man who had barely started truly living life.
The moment I felt the tears begin to pool in my eyes, I knew I had to redirect my thoughts. I still needed to see the road. I still had a ways to go below I get home.
My mind wandered to the last time I saw Travis.
It was the first Christmas home after we all left for college in the fall. Our entire group of friends planned to get together for dinner one night during the long break. After spending all four years of high school together, being apart for just four months felt like an eternity.
It was amazing to have us all in the same room once again. We all sat in the living room of my parents house and shared stories about our first few months at school.
Even Ryan was able to visit for a short amount of time. Ryan had taken a different path than the rest of us. The day after our high school graduation he got on a bus to Parris Island, South Carolina and started his career with the United States Marine Corp. He shared stories of basic training that made my “freshman fifteen” worries seem childish. Shortly after his visit home, he was deployed to Afghanistan.
During the time we spent together that night, I realized we were no longer the same group of kids who left for school in the fall. By the end of that winter break, our close-knit group of friends drifted apart. Once we returned to school, our interaction became less and less with each passing day. The life-long friendships I thought we had formed crumbled after only a few months of absence.
Snapping out of my memories, I brought my full attention back to the road in front of me. The sky was beginning to turn a beautiful mixture of peach and lavender as the sun disappeared behind the sea of trees to my left. Home was not too far away now. As I began to recognize my surroundings, I felt calm and anxious simultaneously.
And then I saw it. The sign on the side of the road said “Entering Brookside”. For eighteen years, this was my home. But this wasn’t where I belonged anymore. I had a life back in New York. This part of my life seemed so far away the closer I got to the house I used to call my home.
As I pulled onto the street where we played as children, it all came rushing back to me. The trees. The houses. The yards. Everything was the same. As if time has stood still waiting for my return. I pulled into the driveway of that big, old white house with black shutters and a red door. The grass in the front yard was bright green and the flowers were just beginning to bloom. I smiled knowing my parents still took so much pride in the appearance of their home. Even in the dark it looked amazing. Just the way it used to. The way I remembered it.
I shook my head, took a deep breath, and quietly got out of the car locking it behind me. Without grabbing anything from the car I walked towards the front door. I could feel my heart pounding in my chest with each step I took.
What is wrong with me? They are still my parents. I am still their daughter. Nothing between us had changed over the years. After giving myself an internal pep talk I lifted my hand and softly knocked on the door.
Barely a moment passed before the door swung open and there she was. My mom. She stood in front of me with the sunset colors warming her face and a genuine smile on her lips. Her eyes were gentle as ever looking at me with love and comfort.
As if someone had opened the floodgates inside of me, all at once I shattered. Tears started to flow and showed no signs of letting up. My sobs so loud they startled me.
Travis was dead. This person who has been there for so many milestones of my youth was gone. His face flashed through my mind repeatedly. At prom, graduation, parties, senior skip day, birthdays, in my car singing loud and off-key, his crooked smile, his warm, honey brown eyes. A friend who had spent time in this very house was dead. It finally hit me. Travis was gone and he was never coming back.
I would never be able to see his smile grow wide before he began to laugh. Never again could I share my inner thoughts or simply how my day was going. Or yell at him for saying something stupid. Scold him for tugging on his hair when he was nervous the way he always did. But most importantly I would never get to tell him how much he truly meant to me and that I was sorry we lost touch.
My body felt heavy. I swear I could hear my heart breaking in this moment. It may have been years since I last saw Travis but I still considered him a dear friend. I could feel a void in my heart where he had once been. It was the most painful thing I have ever felt.
The next thing I knew I was tucked safely into my mother’s embrace. No words were spoken. Neither of us attempted to move. I let all of my emotions pour out of me. In that moment, I knew I was exactly where I needed to be.
I was home.
