Beauty in the Ashes

With her pulling me inside, and Kyle behind me, I took my first step into the house.

Memories rushed over me, threatening to drown me with their startling clarity.

The house was exactly the same—in the sense that nothing was out of place. Someone had taken the time to clean up the mess and restore order. It looked like your typical suburban family home, except for the fact that it carried an emptiness. The air was still and it felt unlived in. This wasn’t a home, not anymore. It was an empty shell that stood in commemoration of what once was. There was no happiness here anymore. It was a reminder of the horrors that happened here. I wondered if the neighbors that lived here were the same ones I remembered or if they’d moved on, taking with them the memories of what happened. I guess what I really wanted to know was, did any of them still care?

I moved further into the house, gliding my fingers along the walls.

Dust clung to everything in a thick coat. Pictures of my sister and me still hung on the walls. Upon entering the kitchen, I found several dishes still lying in the sink.

The house was stuck in a time warp—forever frozen in place in testament to the last activities that had taken place here.

I felt Sutton’s hand tighten around mine.

I hadn’t even realized she was still holding my hand. I was thankful for her support, because inside I felt like I was crumbling.

Surprisingly, so far, this wasn’t as difficult as I’d believed it would be.

Granted, we hadn’t gone upstairs yet, and that’s where the true test lay.

In the living room, I found a family photo of all of us at a neighborhood barbeque. I picked it up, running my fingers over the glass.

Cradling the picture close to my heart, I realized that missing them would never get easier. You don’t suddenly stop remembering or missing someone. That ache is always there, but if you work hard enough it can become bearable. So, that’s what I was striving for.

“I want to take this with me,” I whispered, clutching the frame tight.

No one said anything as I finally started up the stairs—to the place where it all ended.

I stopped in my tracks, staring at the carpet. Someone had obviously tried to clean it, but there was still a faint pink ring where my dad had lain there.

“Oh God,” Sutton gasped, smacking a hand over her mouth.

“I found my dad here,” I said. My voice was oddly detached, like this had happened to another person, and not me. Maybe it had.

“I think we should go,” Kyle grabbed for my arm, trying to get me to turn around. He sounded as horrified as Sutton.

“No!” I pulled from his hold. “I didn’t come this far to leave without finishing this. I need this.”

Closure was necessary. I saw that now.

Kyle sighed, muttering under his breath.

I stepped by the stain, heading for my parent’s room. The bed was stripped, even the mattress gone, so there were no lingering traces of blood there.

I didn’t linger long. There was no point.

Instead of going to Cayla’s room, I went into mine first.

“This was my room,” I told Sutton. My words were unnecessary, though. It was obvious who this room belonged to. I was sure it seemed strange to her, having been in my apartment multiple times. The two places were nothing alike. They marked the significant difference in Old Caelan and New Caelan. This Caelan had been a boy. Only concerned in pleasing himself and being a star. Getting the girl. Having the perfect life. The person I was now didn’t care about any of those things. Except maybe getting the girl. The right girl.

I released Sutton’s hand and picked up the football lying on top of my dresser. Funny, Old Caelan loved football, but New Caelan hated it. Watching it on TV bored me…or maybe watching it reminded me too much of the life I left behind.

Staring at the football, and the other memorabilia in my room, I wondered how my life would’ve turned out if they hadn’t died. Would I have continued with football? Gone pro?

There are a series of decisions we make that ultimately decide our course in life. Saying yes instead of no to something can drastically alter the outcome and there’s no do over button. You only get one chance to make it right.

I think most of us failed.

It was easier to mess up than it was to succeed.