I turned to my right, and saw that the dining room had the same open, airy feel as the rest of the house. Walking farther, I stepped into the kitchen and stopped dead in my tracks. The granite counter tops gleamed from the mullioned windows flanking the back of the house. Stainless steel appliances stood like sentries. A granite isle stood in the middle of the tiled floor with a pot and pan rack hanging overhead. I moved toward the windows.
A large deck stretched out across the back of the house. Beyond it, my eyes rested on the lake, causing a breathless sigh to leave my body. It was beautiful. Dark green grass gently sloped to the gray water. The fading sunlight danced across it, creating a ballet of light and darkness with the mountains rising majestically in the distance.
I opened the sliding glass doors and stepped out onto the deck. Gazing around the yard I noticed that about a half an acre out on either side of the house started the wood line. The woods were sparse in the beginning, creating lovely shaded areas that quickly gave way to the forest. It would be a beautiful place to die if mutant mountain men roamed the area, that's for sure.
I turned at the sound of my parents calling to me. “Come check out your new room,” Mom said with a knowing grin. With one last look at the lake, I turned to follow after them.
“You have got to be shitting me.” I just couldn't believe my eyes. The basement was fully finished with its own bathroom, large bedroom, living area and bar/kitchenette. The previous owners obviously never took the time to decorate it because it was completely barren of color.
The bedroom could be shut off from the rest of the area by large French doors. The living room was carpeted and sunk down into the middle of the tiled floor, forming an almost secluded space. I'd never have to worry about my parents yelling at me for staying up late again. They'd never know. I almost felt evil with my all-night movie intentions.
“This is mine? ALL mine?” My eyes felt like they were going to bulge right out of my head as I stared at my parents. Smiling, they nodded their heads in assent. I quickly looked around again then ran to the door leading to the backyard.
A cobblestone area was set right outside, perfect for a quiet evening to sit and take in the beauty of the surrounding area. A garden lay to the right of the porch, hidden from prying eyes by the first floor deck. Since the basement was built into the side of the sloping hills, the entire back side of the bottom level was nothing but glass to make up for the lack of light. For a moment, I couldn't breathe as I took it all in.
I looked at my parents with a huge smile on my face. They did this for me, to make me happy and try to replace the blackness that seemed to be surrounding my life. I still couldn't stop the edge of unease that seemed to constantly hover around me, waiting for the other shoe to drop.
My parents left me alone to start unpacking my items. Listening to my iPod, I started organizing my belongings and making a list for all the new furniture I would need to fill the rooms. This was the first time I had space to myself, enough room to breathe.
I screamed when I felt a hand grab my shoulder. Falling onto my butt, I quickly turned around. My dad stood above me, almost doubled over with laughter. Yanking out my earphones, I sent a glare his way.
“Sweet baby Jesus! What were you trying to do? Give me a heart attack?”
“Hey, I tried calling your name. It's not my fault you were blaring music.”
“What did you need?” I rested my arms on my raised knees, maintaining my glare.
“Time for you to come upstairs. We ordered some pizza and still have some things to talk about.”
“Trying to butter me up with the thought of pizza, eh?”
“Couldn't hurt.” With a wink he headed up the stairs.
I followed him to the living room where Mom was busy digging through boxes. She looked up and gave Dad a questioning look. Glancing back at me, he gave a short nod in silent reply. Tension seeped into the atmosphere. I crossed my arms and prepared for whatever was to come.
“Come sit with me, sweetie.” She said, sitting herself on the couch and patting the spot next to her. I thought about declining, but figured that would take focus away from whatever discussion they were anxious about. I walked calmly toward her and sat down without even a remark, causing my parents eyebrows to raise in surprise.
“Spill it.” I said, looking straight into my mothers' eyes.
She looked at Dad first before she cast her wary eyes back to me. “Well, I know you're not going to like this, but please just hear us out.” I didn't take my gaze off of her even when I felt the couch shift from the weight of my father sitting down beside me.
She cleared her throat and started wringing her hands in her lap. I gazed at them momentarily then shifted my defenses based on that tell-tale sign. She wouldn't be wringing her hands unless she was worried about what my reaction would be.
“We know you don't want to talk about it, but these little 'incidents' have begun to increase and your attitude has started to swing almost dramatically. We want you to know that we love you, and that we're doing what we think is best for you—” Mom looked pleadingly at me while she put a reassuring hand on my knee. Dad cleared his throat, earning my attention. They planned a speech together. This wasn't good.
“You're going to start therapy on Monday,” Dad said in a rush.
“Therapy?” I raised an eyebrow.
“Yes, you know we'd never do anything to hurt you, we just want you to have someone to talk to.” Mom said in a placating voice.
I could feel my anger rising by the moment. The flecks darkness within me seemed to grow with my building temper. Feeding off it. Fueling it. “You want me to go to some quack, charging hundreds of dollars an hour just to talk?”
“Yes, we figured if you had the chance to talk about what's been happening—”
“How am I supposed to talk about what's been happening when I don't know the cause of it!” I started to angrily pace in front of them, hoping to calm the darkness within me.
“All that's going to happen is I'm going to end up getting put on some stupid medicine that will keep me like a living zombie just like the last time! How can you guys even come to this conclusion when you know damn well I didn't have anything to do with what happened to Rebecca?”
“Well, if you become a zombie we could always have you cast in the next apocalypse movie,” Dad stated, trying to alleviate my anger.
“That's not funny! Why in the world would you think I'd willingly do this? Do you know what they do to people at mental hospitals? Haven't you seen Gothica?”
Mom put her head in her hands and began rubbing her temples. “Star, that's a movie!”
“I'm not stupid, I know it's a movie, but that could happen.” I threw my hands up and yanked my hair over my shoulder, twisting it roughly around my hand. Mom wasn't the only one with a nervous gesture.
“You're forgetting the fact that we're not putting you in a mental institution. We're just having you go to a therapist.”
“Ha! That's what they all say before the person is shipped off to some ward where a mad scientist starts experimenting on them!”