Page 171 of Driftwood Daffodil 2

“It’s time to live with your choicesGattina.”

GIOVANNI

Golden ivy ran along the edge of the double doors like haunting frame. The intricate carvings were just as beautiful and pristine as they were twelve years ago. Yet everything about them had changed. This was no longer the entrance to my parent’s bedroom, but a gateway into my nightmares.

I could still smell the blood. Every breath I took caused more of that coppery tint to hang in the air.

Honestly, I didn’t know why I was here? All day long my father’s words lingered in the back of my mind. Atlas wasn’t perfect but he was the only person who gave a shit about me. for two years I kept his memory alive.

The sound of his voice and twinkle in his eye when he laughed were permanently ingrained in my mind. All I had to do was close my eyes and I’d see him again. He was my brother. My blood.

Despite what everyone said, I couldn’t think of a single instance where he gave me reason to doubt him. That’s what I told myself while I sat in my room after school. Yet here I was, trying to make myself reach out and grab the doorknob. As if some secret I forgot was hidden on the other side.

“This is stupid.” I told myself. “Just go in.”

Nothing was going to happen. All the memories in that room died years ago. It was nothing more than a tomb now.

Rolling my shoulders back, I turned the knob, threw the door open, and stepped inside.

The curtains were drawn, casting shadows throughout the room, but sunlight still shone off a torn piece of yellow police tape laying on the floor.

Ignoring the chill creeping up my spine, I headed further in, towards the walk-in closet. My heart picked up with every step I took. I could see scratch marks and discoloration in the hardwood. The fire engine I’d been playing with that day was still on the bed right next to my mother’s purse.

I bent down to pick up a small green sweater on the ground. Dust particles glimmered in the air as I ran my thumb over the material. I hated this thing. The knitted wool was heavy and itchy, but it was her favorite. Every time there was a slight breeze in the air, my mother would pull this thing out.

“I don’t want to wear it.”

“You have to, Gio. It’s cold outside.”

“But it’s itchy.” I said, along with the ghost of my former self.

If I’d have just put the damn thing on, we wouldn’t have been here when they broke in. We would’ve been at the park having a picnic. Five minutes I wasted arguing with her. Five minutes, then…

Bang.

My heart slammed against my chest as I spun around, expecting to hear more gunfire and footsteps running up the stairs. There was nothing there. It was all in my head.

Sucking in a deep inhale, I dropped the sweater back on the floor and stepped around the bed.

“Mommy.”

“It’s okay, baby. It’ll be okay.”

She picked me up and hid me in one of the cupboards in the walk-in closet. The door to which was still open.

“Don’t make a sound Gio, no matter what you hear, you keep quiet, okay?”

She knew what was about to happen. I didn’t know that then, but I could see it now. She accepted her fate the second the first shot was fired. Four more rang out before they came in. Their footsteps echoed through my ears.

“What are you going to do with that, Cheri?”

Bang.

My head jerked to the side, searching for the ghost of a bullet. After which, I gave my head a shake.

“Get a grip Gio, there’s no one here.”

At least that fucking carpet was gone. The stain from my mother’s blood however remained. It was just a slight stain in the hardwood, but I could see it clearly. It was right there. A big pool of crimson that slid under the bed.

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