Page 3 of Property of Scythe
I hear her sniffle a second time. “I know, my girl. I really do.”
Good. “I’m about to take the exit. I really should pay attention so I can find my new building.”
“Go, honey. We’ll talk to you soon,” Dad answers, quick to end the conversation before my mother cries.
In all fairness, she’s a crier. I used to be before the attack and nightmares. It’s different now.
“Call us later!” Mom adds with a shout before the call ends.
It’s not longer than a minute before another call comes through and I answer, exiting from the highway to follow the directions on my GPS. “Hello?”
“Lottie!”
“Mel. I’m almost there!”
“Yay! Do you need me to hang up and wait for you to get settled?”
I do. “Yeah. It’s a bit of a maze around here, and I just took the exit into town.”
“No worries, sis. Call me back when you’ve got a chance to catch your breath.”
“I will.”
My sister is my best friend. She gets her understanding and patience from Dad. I tend to take more after Mom. Well, again, that’s recently changed. I’m still not sure who I am now.
That’s the thing about trauma. It uproots you from your coreand fundamentally shakes everything you believe. In its wake, you’re broken. It takes time and therapy to put yourself back together again. At least, it did for me. I’m still figuring out who I am now and how facing death has changed my perspective on nearly everything.
But I still know what matters. Family. Not living in fear, making roots somewhere new. Finding the part of me I lost. I’ve come a long way since the night I was stabbed. I survived a brutal attack, and I’m here, breathing, and I won’t let what that motherfucker did to me steal anything else.
“Love ya, Lottie!”
“Right back at ya, Mel!”
The call ends as I spot the road for my turn. Before I can take it, the light flips to red. It’s early evening, and my stomach rumbles with hunger. It’s after five p.m., and the roads are congested, but nothing like California. If this is Raven’s Crest’s rush hour, I’m lucky. Driving around before and after work won’t be a hardship at all.
The light turns green, and I continue to my destination, stopping to park outside my building. There’s a concierge who left the back dock open for me and an elevator key I can pick up at the front desk. It’s fancier than I expected as I walk inside, looping my purse strap over my shoulder as it crosses my chest.
I made it. Now I just have to be sure the movers brought my furniture in and didn’t damage anything. My parents paid for the moving company to bring all the heavier items, including kitchen appliances, dishes, and boxes of home décor and bedding. I couldn’t bring it all in my car. Dad spoke to the owner of my building, and he assured him that it was fine to have my stuff moved in before I arrived, especially since I was relocating from such a distance. The concierge let them in a few days ago, and they dropped everything off, even putting together my bed before they left.
It doesn’t take long for me to get checked in, receive my keys, and head back out to the dock. I stare at all the stuff I have tobring inside, wishing I could snap my fingers, and it would relocate inside my apartment with magic. Silly.
Everyone knows magic doesn’t exist, but I still believe in Harry Potter. I can’t help it. Blame it on my dad. He’s the one who spent weekends watching the movies with me and Mel growing up.House Slytherin!We might be a bit obsessed.
I square my shoulders, open my car, and begin to unload.
TWO HOURS LATER, Icollapse on my couch. It’s not exactly where I want it, but the movers didn’t do a terrible job. Nothing is broken that I can tell. I’ll be adjusting things and unpacking over the next three days until I start my new job on Monday. The summer is almost over, and my classroom will need some work to be ready by midweek for the start of lessons.
I only take a few minutes to rest and decide if I don’t get up now, I won’t get a damn thing done before I crash. My body is tired and I’m still hungry. Groceries will be a necessity tomorrow. For now, I have snacks from the trip, and I can make that work until the morning.
After another hour, I finish unpacking the essentials, set up my kitchen and bathroom, and take a shower. I settle on my living room couch with a snack and tuck my legs under me, not bothering to flip on the TV since I won’t have anything hooked up until Saturday.
I’m just dozing off when my phone rings. I sigh as I pick it up, hoping Mom isn’t going to blow me up this late. It’s Mel.
“Hey, sis,” I answer with a yawn.
“Shit. You’re tired. Want me to call back?”
“No. It’s fine. Really.”
