Chapter 6: Not An Exit - Memories

“Ow!” I yell. The scratches start to bleed.

“You scared my baby!” Daria pushes the clothes off the creature to uncover the biggest black cat I have ever seen. Twenty pounds at least. Long fur makes it huge.

Daria scoops up the cat. It’s almost as big as she is. “Oh, poor babykins, did she scare you? This is Gazella,” Daria croons.

Godzilla, more like it.

“She’s a pure-blooded Persian.” Daria hugs it. Blue eyes stare at me over a squished nose.

“Isn’t she beautiful?”

“Sure.” No way am I going to share a room with Cat Girl and Godzilla. I grab an armful of clothes and start out the door. I look back. Daria and her cat are picture perfect. My gut tells me they won’t ever look like that again.

The scratches on my hand throb. I head for the bathroom and put the clothes on the sink. After I wash off the blood, I smear on aloe vera cream to disinfect the wounds. The second floor of our house has my large bedroom and a bathroom. There is only one place left to go - the attic.

I lift the clothes and trudge down the hall. At the end, I climb a small staircase. An old- fashioned key sticks in the lock. Turning it, I hold my breath and open the door. It squeaks. Hair rises on the back of my neck. I haven’t been here in years. I peek inside.

Sunlight from the dormer windows filters through cobwebs and dust. The attic is so quiet, I shiver. Heartbeats thump in my ears.

Dad stuffed everything that belonged to Mom up here because he couldn’t bear to look at it. The furniture looks lonely. When I’m grown, it will be mine and I will love it. I wipe the dust from an armoire. The rich, deep reds of the mahogany wood still shine. There is an oval mirror in a floor stand, a dressing table with matching chest, a carved bed and three trunks. The sunlight shines through Mom’s crystal clock, making rainbows on the wall. I open a window. Lilacs sweeten the summer breeze and fill the room. Leaning over, I see Mom’s garden far below. The angel sculpture in the corner seems to looks right at me.

“Well, Mom,” I whisper. “I gotta’ use your things. Hope it’s okay.”

I’m surprised how excited I am to get settled in. I leave to get the vacuum.

It takes a couple of hours to clean the attic. When I’m done, I knock on my bedroom door. No answer. I sneak in. Daria’s things cover every surface. Stuffed animals, books and awards for spelling contests. There’s even a different bedspread and matching curtains on my rods. Clothes from my closet are heaped in a pile on the floor. Godzilla stares at me from the middle of my bed.

A hot bolt of anger shoots like lightning into my head. I look around in panic. Where is my horse collection?

Then I see a leg. Under the pile of clothes. I carefully lift them and freeze. The

palomino stallion that Mom bought me before I was born has a broken leg. I scream from a scary place deep inside me. My body shakes in fury. I can hardly think or move.

Godzilla hisses. Her tail and fur puff up making her even bigger. She growls, baring her teeth. Her blue eyes are human-like. Goosebumps shiver up my arms.

Daria pokes her head out of the closet. She sees the broken horse in my hands.

“It was a accident,” she whines. “Mommy can buy you another one.”

I can’t speak. Hot air engulfs me like fire. I pick up my clothes, careful not to break the other horses.

“Don’t touch anything else. I’ll be back in a minute to take everything.” I hear my voice, but it sounds like a growling monster, low and dangerous. A flicker of fear shoots into Daria’s eyes. I hiss at her, my arms trailing clothes, and stomp out of the room.

She pushes past me, screaming like a fire engine, “Mommy, Mommy!”

I’d give anything to have a mom to run to.