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even friends.
    “Get your shit. I need you back at the house to help sort stuff there.”
    A tremor rocks my body from the thought of going back. “I d… don’t think I c… can go there.”
    “Mel, I need your help. I don’t live there so I need you to show me where they kept the documents and bills. I need you to call the house cleaner and the gardener and pack their stuff up.”
    I can’t believe what I’m hearing. “Markus, it’s been two weeks. I’m not ready to pack their things up.”
    He rolls his eyes and kneels before me, his sweaty palms resting on my exposed thighs. He begins kneading them as he speaks. “I know this is hard, Mel. But you have to face facts. They’re gone and keeping their things won’t change that. We have to decide what to do with the house, and selling it with dead people’s things still hanging in the wardrobe will be impossible.”
    Every word from his mouth is a verbal lash, whipping at my soul, ripping another layer from the frayed, dull life force keeping me tethered to this world.
    I push his hands from my thighs and race past him to the bathroom. I heave into the toilet, bringing up nothing but bile that burns my throat. I feel him behind me and he sighs.
    “What if I stay in the house until we decide what you want to do?”
    I fold my arms over my stomach and nod. “Yeah, okay.”
    The thought of selling my childhood home is unbearable, even though it’s now a tomb.
     

     
    There’s yellow tape hanging from the front door as Markus opens it and walks in but I can’t move. My blood has turned to cement.
    Markus turns to face me. “Come on,” he says, but I’m immobile.
    Tears threaten but I force them back. “I’m going back to college. I can’t be here. Call me when the police release their bodies.”
    I turn and rush down the front steps and he follows me, gripping my wrist. “I need you here, Mel.”
    I shake my head. “I can’t. Please let me go. I’ll come back, I just need some time.”
    He narrows his eyes and lets go of my wrist with a shove. “Fine. Go.”
    I exhale and dig through my bag for my car keys. Markus had it fixed and brought back here which I’m grateful for, but I can’t stay. I need distance.

 
     

     
    MY CAR EATS UP THE miles back to my dorm. It takes me less time to get back because I speed most of the way. It’s just getting dark; the campus is abuzz with people coming and going, getting on with their lives like every other day. It’s so crazy how one moment in time can change all future moments. What would have been? What would I be doing right now if that man hadn’t taken my family?
    My father’s lifeless eyes flash to the forefront of my memory and acid eats my insides as the burn from the bile rising alights my throat. I can’t escape the memories; they constantly replay, assaulting me with pain.
    People are living their lives, never to experience death coming to steal people so important, too young, not meant to go yet. I would never wish this on any of them. Pain, anger, love, loss, confusion, grief so strong it blankets me in an icy atmosphere. How do I make it stop, make myself numb to the raging turbulence tearing my mind to shreds?
    Tap, tap, tap .
    I jump as knuckles hit my car window. My hand goes to my heart. I want to cry from the simple fright that would have made me laugh before. I take a deep breath and release it, opening the window. Clive’s toothy grin greets me.
    “Hey, sweetness. Where have you been?”
    I swallow a hateful retort and shrug my shoulders. His friend is beside him, holding a bag full of booze. “So, we’re heading to a party. You want to come?”
    I almost laugh. Why would I go anywhere with him? But my eyes go back to the bag of ‘forget fluid’. A drink, that’s what I need. I’ve been drunk only once before, at a bonfire after senior prom. Zane held me while we slept under the stars. I’d got drunk to drown out the knowledge we would be parting, an era ending in my