Oh, look what you've done. Who: Addie and her father Where: Their house When: late afternoon What: Addie coming home after a big first.
Addie had had Adelle drop her off just in front of her house, but she ended up sitting on the front step for an hour, fiddling with her phone but mostly staring into the distance, thinking.
A siren. She needed to kill for her sanity. She had killed for her sanity. She was a murderer and it didn't even feel wrong. The fact of having killed someone seemed as natural to her as eating breakfast. She didn't feel guilty -- more like she felt guilty for not feeling guilty, which seemed like a crappy cycle to get locked into. A lot stronger than the guilty feeling was the scared, quiet, too-aware sensation of feeling like a freak. She blew out a sigh and scratched her eyebrow, looking at her phone. It was approaching 5:30.
Addie looked up and saw a boy approaching her, roughly her age, and her stomach turned over. You are not safe with me, she thought, watching him as he came to lean against the railing of the steps.
"Hey. You've been sitting here awhile."
Addie shrugged, glancing away and squinting against the sun, poking in and out of clouds. "Just thinking about things."
"I haven't seen you before," he said, tilting his head.
"We just moved here from Boston. I'm Addie."
"Jake," he said, offering his hand to shake, which Addie did, although with a sardonic smile and a bit of a you're-dumb look.
"Nice to meet you, Jake."
Jake smiled and took his hand back, opening his mouth again to speak. Before he could, though, a boy's voice was heard calling his name. He looked over his shoulder, calling back a 'what?' The child called something else Addie wasn't listening to, resting her head against the railing and poking vaguely at one of the bars supporting it.
"Hey, I gotta go." Addie looked back up at him. "But I'll see you around the neighborhood and stuff, right?"
Addie nodded. "You will."
Jake smiled and jogged off, giving a wave as he went. Addie sighed and stood up, climbing the steps to go inside, peering around the wall into the living room for her dad. He wasn't there.
"Dad?" she called out, bending down to untie her shoes.
"Kitchen," he called back.
Addie got her shoes off, leaving them by the door, and went to poke her head into the kitchen. There was something boiling on the stove already for dinner, Chris sitting at the table with a book to keep an eye on it. He looked up when Addie came to the doorway, then looked back down. "Hey, sweetie."
"Hey dad." He looked the same. Should he have looked different? She felt different.
"Where'd you end up?"
"Walked around the park for a few hours. Went up the street a little bit too, looked at the shops up there."
Chris nodded to show he was listening and set his book down, going over to the pot on the stove. He lifted up the lid and stirred the contents with a wooden spoon, poking at something and sniffing the broth.
"What are you making?"
"Ham and carrots. Hope you didn't eat yet."
Addie nodded. "I didn't. Should I make bread?"
"If you want to, sweetie. That would be great."
Addie nodded again. A moment later she found herself next to the stove, arms tight around her father's waist, head buried against his chest. Chris blinked, but hugged her back, rubbing her shoulder and kissing the top of her head. "You okay, Addie-Rose?"
Addie nodded against his chest, squeezing her eyes shut. "Fine, dad."
Chris smiled and kissed the top of her head again, then let go. "Go put your purse down and wash your hands," he said, tapping her arm. Addie nodded, finally letting go. She turned in the doorway, staring at Chris for a long moment as he went back to his book, then trotted up the stairs.