Dissipate Read online

  Keeping the comforter over my head, but allowing light in from the side, I looked at the pictures. After each new image, tears fell harder down the sides of my face. The pictures ranged from all sorts of occasions.

  My dad holding me over a cake with candles.

  My parents kissing me at the same time on each cheek.

  My dad and I taking a nap on the couch.

  This had been my life. A life I knew nothing about. Delicately, my fingers traced over his face.

  “Dad,” I whispered to the image. Even though I had no memory, I felt connected to this man. It was bittersweet having to lose Mom before I got a piece of my dad.

  My mom had only told me my dad had passed to The Light at a young age. We were taught to not ask questions about those that had gone to The Light. It was a waste of energy for something that could not change.

  Anger and irritation bubbled to the surface while my free fist clinched to the point my knuckles turned white. Mom had broken so many rules and yet she’d lied to me about certain aspects. Like The Society, it felt as though I only received partial truths. Same thing went for her teachings. Technology had been left out, but why? The pieces of the puzzle weren’t fitting together and I wasn’t sure they ever would.

  I wanted to scream, cry, throw something, and demand answers all at the same time. My mom was gone and I’d never truly understand some of her decisions. Despite everything, I knew she loved me. Somehow she’d lost her way, but her love for me had always been true. I felt it in my soul.

  There were some DVD’s. I wondered what they were. They were labeled with numbers. Laying the photos on the bed, I stared at them as my eyes blurred. Finally, emotional exhaustion took me under, and I hoped the black oblivion would give me peace.

  LAUGHTER FROM THE downstairs awoke me from my sleep. It took me a minute to realize where I was, expecting my room back home. Home. That word was a double-edged sword these days with what all it had come to mean to me.

  The photographs on the bed were strewn out beside me. Putting them in the top drawer and grabbing the rent money, I headed downstairs to see who else was here. It sounded like a guy. Rounding the bottom step, I froze. A guy in loose shorts and a T-shirt hoisted a large black rectangular box onto the wall.

  “Oh there you are, sleepyhead!” Brooklyn called from the couch.

  The guy turned and looked my way which had me momentarily stunned. He was the guy who mauled me over today on my way to the bank. Aiden. A heat involuntarily graced my cheeks as his blue eyes pierced mine. There was no doubt, the man was attractive, bringing a smile from me as he gave me a wink before finishing his task. The attention had me smiling before I remembered myself. Being close to an unfamiliar guy that wasn’t Matthew had me flustered and I looked everywhere but at Aiden.

  The box. I’d focus on the box. I bet that was the television Brooklyn had talked about. Brooklyn typed something on her phone and thankfully missed Aiden’s gesture to me. Was winking considered forward? I had no idea, but needed to stop thinking about Aiden.

  Turning my attention back to Brooklyn, I responded, “Yeah, I was exhausted after all of today’s excitement. Here’s the rent.”

  Taking the money, Brooklyn stood and put it in her front pocket. “Aiden ordered some takeout that’s in the kitchen. We were about it eat if you want to join us.”

  In protest, I shook my head. “No, I don’t want to intrude.”

  “Don’t be silly. Aiden got plenty.” Brooklyn had that easy way about her that made you never feel like you were unwelcome.

  Aiden clapped his hands together and looked at me. “All done.” My skin warmed at how long his gaze lingered.

  Holding a rectangular stick, he pushed a button and people came to life on the screen. The vivid colors were amazing. Voices sounded and I took a step back, stunned at what came across the black rectangular box.

  Aiden continued while running his hand through his black hair, “And it works too! I’ll hook up the DVD player before I leave tonight and show you guys how to work it.”

  DVD player. I bet that would play those discs my mom had given me. Her letter had said DVD.

  Clapping beside me, Brooklyn praised her brother. “Thanks, sweet brother. You have saved us from dying of boredom.”

  Aiden chortled and I joined in, trying to take my eyes from the television as I watched two people skipping about.

  Brooklyn grabbed my hand. “Oh, this is my brother. Aiden, Kenzie. Kenzie, Aiden.”

  Watching me with interest, Aiden waited for me to respond. “We actually met this afternoon briefly. I didn’t know he was your brother. He kind of ran me over.”

  Aiden watched me as his smile got wider. The memory of this afternoon did not do him justice. Maybe it was because I wasn’t as nervous. Talking openly with guys was something I forced myself to get comfortable with in this culture.

  Brooklyn looked admonishingly to her brother. “Aiden! What did you do?”

  Aiden was still watching me amused. “I was playing football with the guys and they overthrew it to show off and try to make me miss it.”

  Football was what the game with the ball was called.

  As Brooklyn was about to say something else, I interjected. “It was no big deal.”

  Brooklyn pulled me toward the kitchen again. Eight little white cartons were on the table as we sat. They smelled delicious and my appetite became apparent. Over the last couple of days, I hadn’t eaten near enough.

  “Do you like Chinese? Brooklyn didn’t know.” Aiden looked at me as he spoke and opened up containers.

  I had never had Chinese food, but knew about the country China. I assumed it was dishes that were attributed to the country. Thinking it would be weird not to know, I lied. ”Yes, I do. Thank you.”

  “Good. Do you prefer chopsticks or silverware?” Aiden held out a white plastic fork or what looked like two wood sticks sheathed in paper.

  How do I step around this question? My mind was tired from the day still, but I went with my first thought. “I never learned how to use them.”

  “Oh, Aiden is a master with the chopsticks,” Brooklyn proudly declared as her phone rung. “Oh, it’s Mike. I’ll be right back.”

  Mike was the guy she was somewhat interested in. The day Brooklyn had asked me to move in, she had filled me in on him. Apparently, he was one of Aiden’s good friends and a fraternity brother. Through the summer they had flirted via text, but Brooklyn was unsure if she wanted to be tied down. It seems like she talked in circles sometimes. Underneath all her words, I thought she really did like Mike. With all my lies and misdirection I had told, I didn’t ask her to clarify.

  Calling after her before she picked up, Aiden yelled, “Be easy on his heart, Brooklyn.”

  She didn’t respond as she answered the phone. Now, it was just Aiden and I at the table. Focusing on the pattern of the wood, I tried to think of what to say.

  Aiden helped the transition as he laid down the chopsticks and the fork. “Brooklyn filled me in a little. She said you were from Montana. How are you liking Arkansas?”

  For some reason, I felt like I was being assessed. Made sense considering Aiden was Brooklyn’s brother. I’d want to know who was living with my family—if I had one still. “It’s great. It’s different. I was homeschooled by my mom so it’s been an adjustment. I’m glad I met Brooklyn and she needed a roommate.”

  “Me too. Brooklyn seemed pretty excited when she told me about you. Her last roommate was a little crazy. Are you ready for school?” Aiden relaxed a little more as he spoke and I felt like I had passed the initial round of assessment.

  I shrugged. “I’m working on it. Being homeschooled my entire life definitely has me at a disadvantage to adjusting, but it’ll be fine.”

  Shifting in my seat, I tried to relax.

  “I bet.” He picked up the chopsticks again. “You’re going to be a pro at chopsticks before tonight is over. Here take these, I’ll show you.”

  I took the wooden sticks.r />
  “Hold them like this.”

  Mimicking Aiden’s chopsticks, I placed one to rest between my thumb and forefinger and the other I positioned similar to how I would hold a pencil.

  “That’s perfect. Okay, now take your index finger and use it to move the top stick.” His tone was patient as he instructed me.

  The top one moved within his hand. Trying to imitate his actions, my chopstick did move but in jerkier motions.

  “Okay, now pick up some food.” As Aiden spoke, he lifted rice from one dish and chicken from another onto his plate masterfully.

  Loosening my fingers as I practiced moving the chopsticks, I said, “You know, I’m not going to look as graceful as you. In fact, you might want to duck for cover.”

  He chuckled. “Let’s see what you’ve got. Try the shrimp dish.”

  Shrimp? Quickly, I scanned the dishes to see what I didn’t recognize. There was one dish that had little pieces of meat that made a swirl. Everything else was rice, noodles, chicken or beef. There were some rolls, but I imagined that you would pick those up with your hands. Nerves caused my hands to shake as I moved toward the dish I thought could be shrimp. Picking up a small piece, I pinched it with all my might. The slippery shrimp zinged from my chopsticks and landed on Aiden’s shirt.

  “Oh my! I’m so sorry! I’m terrible at this!” Quickly grabbing a napkin from the pile, I handed it to Aiden. Humiliation spread over my face as it heated.

  He took the napkin and grabbed the little shrimp. “I consider it to be payback. You’ve now mauled me with a shrimp. It’s only fair.”

  I couldn’t help the laughter that bubbled to the surface at his kidding tone. Aiden joined in. “Now, that is truly a beautiful sound.”

  We stopped and stared at each other. I wasn’t sure what to say. Focusing back on the chopsticks, I positioned them how I had before.

  “Here, let me help you this time.” Aiden scooted closer to me and reached for my hand, but stopped halfway there.

  Giving him permission, I moved my hands closer. His large fingers engulfed mine. Where our skin made contact, tingles stronger than I had felt with Matthew, erupted over my skin. Our eyes locked with each other as neither one of us said anything. I felt a thumb make a tender stroke along mine and my insides shuddered. We were both searching each other’s faces. A grin spread across Aiden’s face.

  From upstairs, Brooklyn’s voice broke me from the trance I was under. “Oh guys, guess who has a date this Friday night?”

  I pulled my hand out of his. What had happened? I let him touch me more than I had ever let Matthew. He was a stranger. A knot in my stomach formed from all the confusion and I looked down.

  Grabbing a fork from the table, I mumbled. “I should probably stick to silverware. Thank you, though.”

  Glancing at his face for a moment, Aiden’s brow crinkled. He was about to speak as Brooklyn came bouncing in the kitchen, all smiles. “Did you guys hear me? Mike finally asked me out! I have a date!”

  I pushed my feelings and thoughts aside which was my status quo as of late. At some point, I was going to have to face some things.

  Cheerfully, I responded to Brooklyn who didn’t seem to have a clue as to anything being awkward, “That’s exciting. Tell me about it.”

  Maybe then, I’d figure out what having a date meant.

  IT WAS LATE at night. The clock read two a.m. as I crept down the stairs with the DVD’s and letters in hand. I grabbed a small metal bucket from under the sink and a lighter I’d seen in one of the drawers. Stepping outside, to the side of the apartments, I lit the two letters, then dropped them into the metal bucket.

  Mom had instructed me to burn the first letter and I assumed she’d want me to do the same with the second, eliminating any ties to The Society. I hated letting go of something she’d written, but I committed all the words to memory.

  The paper caught quickly, burning and turning to ash. As the flame ate through the letters it felt as if I was snuffing out my past—the only ties to my previous life. I was so numb with everything going on I wasn’t sure how I felt. Nervously, I looked around to make sure no one was watching as the final flame diminished. Discarding the ash in the nearby dumpster, I tiptoed inside to wash the metal bucket. My past was in the past.

  Creak.

  I froze as my heart beat a million miles a minute waiting to see if I was caught. There weren’t harsh punishment for sneaking around here like in The Society. After three infractions of the same rule, a Charge was sent into solitude for three weeks. The only thing supplied was minimal water and bread to survive. We had an enforcer, Abraham, whom I think took joy in seeing people punished. I was relieved I’d never have to see him again.

  As the silence lingered on, I leaned against the counter, taking a settling breath. Brooklyn wasn’t awake.

  It was time to see what was on the DVD.

  Aiden had given us a quick rundown of how to work the machine and I memorized every step, but apprehension still had me second-guessing each button I pressed. What if I mess this up? The last thing I wanted to do was break something of Brooklyn’s.

  Turning everything on and putting the disc labeled number one in, I perched on the edge of the couch. The only sound in the room was my heavy breathing and the sound of the clock ticking on the wall as I pressed Play. As of late, I never knew what was going to happen next and it was wreaking havoc on me.

  The screen flickered and my mom came on the screen. She held me on a couch. A man’s voice came on. “This is our precious little girl, Kenzie Samantha Brooks.”

  Zooming in, I slept peacefully in my mom’s arms.

  The voice continued. “We just brought our precious miracle home. Kenzie, I can’t wait to show you the world.”

  I cried in her arms and my mom spoke gently, “I think our little angel is hungry. Can you help me, David?”

  That tone was something I longed for this last week. That is how she talked to me when I was upset about something. Regardless of what she had done, I loved her and missed her. The hole in my heart seemed to reopen.

  “Of course, sweetheart. Let me get this turned off.”

  The screen became black, then came back to life a few seconds later. It appeared we were outside. A blanket was spread on the ground. My dad held me this time. Holding me under my arms, he flew me around like an airplane. “My little angel is going to grow up tough and strong. Look at how big she’s getting. She’s so smart.”

  Tears streamed down my face and I grabbed a pillow to sob into. This was too much. I’d reached my limit to be able to control my emotions. This was my dad. His voice. His movement. I had something far more precious than I could’ve managed—tangible videos to remember the way they acted, talked, and loved me.

  At night, back home, I had often laid awake wondering what Dad looked like, sounded like, and had been like. All along he’d been the man that appeared in my dreams from time to time. I remembered pieces of him.

  I remembered.

  I could see the love he had for me as he adoringly held me. It was like the photographs I had seen this afternoon were coming to life. His light-brown hair tousled in the wind as he held me.

  He spoke and I tried to quiet my muffled cries. “Kenzie, we are going to have so many adventures together,” he cooed. Spit bubbles came from my mouth as I flailed my arms about. “One day you’re going to meet a guy, but you’re always going to be daddy’s little girl. Don’t forget that. Okay?”

  Giggles came from my mom behind the camera. “David, that is so far away. You don’t have to worry about that for a while.”

  Lovingly, he smiled at my mom, “Sweetheart, it’ll be here before we know it.”

  Kissing my cheek, my mom zoomed in on the action.

  This was my dad and mom. And we had been a loving family.

  RUBBING MY TEMPLES, I tried to ease the headache. The lack of sleep was getting to me. Every night I would wake up in the middle of the night and watch more home movies. Part of me felt robbed
from a life I never knew and the other felt lost—not knowing what to do with all my mixed emotions and thoughts.

  School started tomorrow and my nerves were about to get the best of me. For the last week, I had spent nearly every waking hour at the library researching—life, events, culture, and anything else I had questions on. To go to the bank, I had to research ATM’s, checking accounts, credit cards, debit cards, and online banking. Otherwise, I would have looked foolish having them explain each part of the process, being that I was nineteen.

  Getting through financial aid and my meeting with my advisor had been information overload. For now, I had applied for student loans to take care of my remaining tuition. It seemed the safer route until I knew what I could and couldn’t afford.

  The same went for applying for jobs. I had to learn about interviews, what different jobs meant, and pay standards. This was my day—everyday.

  Instead of breathing, I felt like I was drowning. For the last three days, I had been researching class terms, equipment used in class such as overhead projectors, and trying to give myself a crash course on different programs that were fundamental to know for college. Ninety-nine percent of everything was done via computer. Computers were both my savior and the bane of my existence. We had a love-hate relationship.

  On top of everything else, I’d researched The Society. There wasn’t much on it. It was registered as a religious group which allotted the organization all sorts of privacy. Without just cause, no one could enter. For beliefs it had said Truth. A large section of land was highlighted as being owned by Peter Peppington. Other than that, information had been scarce.

  I felt myself starting to relax . . . some. The Society hadn’t made an appearance in this part. It seemed foul play was not suspected in my suicide. Maybe one day, all the worry would vanish from me, like I had from The Society.

  Looking at the clock, I decided I need to get some lunch. It was hard, but I tried to force myself to eat at regular intervals. Between the knots in my stomachs, the constant headache, and all the pressure I felt, I was rarely hungry. I had made a sandwich from home. They were cheap, but filling.