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Coming Home

Brittany Kearney

    Debris that was left behind by the storm lay scattered haphazardly for as far as the eye could see. She was resting against a piece of driftwood, relaxing after her morning run. The last two weeks had been stressful. Between moving back home and the cryptic phone calls she had been receiving every morning, she was glad that she had today to rest. Other than her morning work out, she planned to do absolutely nothing for once in her hectic life.
    Almost right on cue with her thoughts, her phone started blaring Fall Out Boy’s “My Songs Know What You Did in the Dark.” Ironic, she thought as she picked up her phone to see the blocked number on her caller I.D. It was 9 A.M. sharp, just like every other day for the last two weeks. “What do you want?” she asked, just barely keeping her temper in check.
    “I know what you did, Jordan,” came the response. The voice was clearly being manipulated by some phone app or other such device. Again, just the same as every other day.
    “Who are you?” She was starting to lose it, the grip that she had on her anger finally beginning to slip after so long.
    “I know what you did.” The response was followed by a laugh that sent chills down her spine before the call was disconnected.
    Fourteen days. Fourteen calls. Nothing ever changed. The person on the other end always said the same thing. Jordan sighed, wondering what this was all leading up to.
    Still, she wondered what the anonymous caller could be referring to. She’d screwed up many times over the years and she was certainly no role model. With one last glance at the waves on the horizon and one last, deep breath, Jordan stood and brushed herself off. A hot cup of tea and a good book sounded amazing.
    She stumbled as she moved to leave, a sharp pain shooting through her side and she was immediately pulled into the past.
    “Bitch,” he growled at her.
    Her face exploded from the fist that met her cheekbone. She fell to the floor, cowering as he hovered, slinging profanities and insults. The light glinted off of something and caught her attention. She heard it more than she felt it, a slight pop of resistance and wet slice. Her body was on fire, a new life ended before it could begin.
    Time had no meaning as she faded in and out of consciousness. It could have been minutes or days before she heard movement and forced herself to focus on the anguished cry that sounded through the room.
    “Daddy,” she whispered before she gave in and let the darkness completely envelop her.
    Even with the pain, it didn’t take long for her to jog the four blocks back to her house. When she got there, though, something felt off. Roxy, her always attentive Pitt Bull/Boxer mix wasn’t barking at the door as usual and the blinds that covered the window to the right of the front door – her bedroom window – were askew. Stopping at the steps to her front porch, her hands found her hips as she calmed her breathing. Her observant eyes scanned over the immediate area and she felt herself tensing even more. The flowers at the very edge of her garden appeared to have been trampled. The sun shining on her front door highlighted scratches on the lockset that hadn’t been there before, and the doorjamb seemed more abused than usual.
    Jordan cautiously made her way up the steps and tested the door knob. Unlocked. She briefly closed her eyes, steeling herself for what she was about to walk into. She slowly opened the door and stepped inside to see Roxy laying on the kitchen floor, gnawing happily on a giant rawhide. “Hey, sweet girl,” Jordan said, her voice barely above a whisper as she caught a slight movement out of the corner of her eye. “Okay,” she said, completely fed up, “why don’t you stop hiding in the shadows and show your face?”
    “Well, if it isn’t the prodigal daughter returned,” a slightly nasal, but definitely feminine voice said. “Is daddy’s little girl finally ready to live up to the lies she’s told?”
    “Winnie,” Jordan said, turning to face her ex boyfriend’s younger sister. She barely had time to register the scream of outrage as Winnie came flying at her. Jordan side-stepped her and tripped her. Looking down on Winnie’s shocked face, Jordan sadly said, “You tell me this is a lie.” She pulled her shirt up slightly to reveal the six-inch scar on her hip. “Josiah’s in jail for a reason. Now I want you to leave me alone and move on with your life. You can start by getting out of my house and never calling me again!”

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