I spotted the fire hydrant that someone had once ran over, I remembered how the water was jetting everywhere, while me and the other kids from the street laughed and ran through the spray, making it the best hot summer day ever. I saw the store that I used to steal ice-creams from for Sophie at the weekends, only to sneak money under the cash register when I had it, to pay for them because I knew it was wrong to steal. All of these memories were so painfully fresh in my mind it was like it happened just yesterday.

Finally, I pulled up outside the familiar house. I couldn’t get out of the car. I tried to force myself to get out and walk up the familiar broken path and knock on the door, but I just couldn’t move. I could barely even breathe through the emotions that this one brick building was stirring in me.

I raked my eyes over the place that I should know as ‘home’, but I never saw it that way. This two story house looked more like a prison to me. Everything about the house screamed, unloved, abandoned and abused, which I guess sums up my whole life.

I dragged my eyes over the cracked bricks, the grey slate roof that was missing a couple of tiles, the black patch on the wall where the water was just running down the house instead of going down the broken guttering. All of these things seemed to make this place even more daunting to me, even more scary and I felt like a kid again. A scared little kid that wasn’t even man enough to get out of the car. It was like the house, and the memories that I knew were inside, were taunting me, laughing at me, even. How the hell could my mother still live in this house after everything that happened here?

The house seemed smaller somehow, unless that’s because I had grown up so much since I had last been here. The trash cans were overflowing outside, spilling used food cartons and cheap wine bottles everywhere. The paint was peeling on the windows, one of them boarded up with chipboard.

I let my eyes wander over the front door. It was different to the one that was there when I was a kid, probably because the police had smashed the thing down the day I was arrested.

I tried my hardest not to remember that day. It was the worst day of my life, the day that the one thing that was important to me, was lost. That was the day that I ceased to matter, the day that made my whole existence no longer necessary. That was the day that my little sister died.

I looked down at my hands, a little shocked to see that they weren’t still covered in blood, that my knuckles weren’t still raw and bleeding. It felt so real coming back here, all of the loss and grief seemed to be flooding back into my system and I wasn’t sure if I cope with it.

It was worse than when I went to her grave, this place was where she died, this was her home. It was the place where she would kiss me goodnight, and jump on me in the morning because she wanted me to make her breakfast.

What hurt me the most was that this crappy little place was the last thing she saw before she died.

She never got the chance to experience life, she never got to travel or have her first kiss, never got to go to a party or fall in love. She missed out on so much, and it was all my fault……

Chapter 13

I pulled my cell phone out of my pocket and considered calling Ellie, I just really needed to speak to her right now, just hear her voice for a second to pull me out of the slump I was falling into. I could feel the depression pulling at the edges of my system and I really wanted to see Ellie so I could think about something else.

It scared me how much I needed her, I had never needed anyone in my life, I made sure I could take care of myself, I worked hard so that I never had to rely on anyone then I would never get let down.

If I didn’t depend on anyone then I wouldn’t have to feel the rejection and disappointment when they screwed up or gave up on me. I had learnt at an early age that the only one I could depend on was myself.

In a way I wished I had never met Ellie, that I had just pushed through my life without ever feeling like this, then I would have no one that could hurt me, I wouldn’t have to worry about losing her.

But another part of me knew that what I had before Ellie wasn’t a life, it was just an existence where I just cruised through life on a knife edge. One side of the knife was depression and sadness, the other side of the knife was the crime that I used to think was normal.

I pulled her number up on my screen, just looking at it. I could just start the car again and drive back to her side, we could go see the movie and I could pretend that my mother died when Sophie did. I could go to Ellie and turn my back on the only family I had left and let her deal with her problems herself, she didn’t deserve my help anyway.

But that wasn’t me. I would never walk away from her like that, I guess that was part of a flaw in my character, that I cared about other people, some people would see that as a flaw I guess, I knew Ellie wouldn’t see it as that though.

I couldn’t call her, I needed to just get this done. I pushed my phone back into my pocket and gulped as I looked back to the house. Maybe she wasn’t even here and I wouldn’t have to go inside, maybe I should try the local bars first in the hope that I would see her there instead. I mentally shook myself and knew I needed to just get over this and do it, I needed to face my demons instead of pretending that all that bad stuff didn’t happen.

I clenched my jaw and pushed the car door open, stepping out quickly, slamming it shut before I jumped back in and drove away as fast as I could, never to look upon this place again. I put one hand on the top of the car to steady my body, and took a couple of deep breaths. Come on Jamie, you can do it, turn around and walk to the door and knock.