Enigma (2 page)

As an only child from a very structured family, the freedoms that came along with moving into the Montgomery household was something I really wasn’t accustomed to.

When I woke up the first night I stayed at Lena’s, I was gasping for air and could not breathe. It was dark all around me, and my hair was stuck to my face and neck from sweating. My heart was beating out of my chest, and I was overwhelmed with fear. The digital clock’s bright red numbers burned my unfocused eyes as it showed 2:30 a.m. I laid my head back down on the pillow, wishing I could forget the nightmare I’d just had, but somehow I knew I would never escape it. This was a nightmare that I felt positive would haunt me every night for the rest of my life as I knew it.

My dream began with me walking home to find the neighborhood engulfed in red and blue flashing lights with every police unit available crowding the street. Crime scene tape was draped all around the perimeter of my house. A rookie police officer ran out of the front door to the side of the house, where he immediately began to throw up. Ambulances and fire trucks were on the lawn, and then I saw it—the sight no one ever wants to see. A white van that said “Orange County Coroner” was parked crooked in my double drive. It made me drop to my knees in the street. As I hit the pavement, I barely felt the skin on my hands break as my knees instantly became raw. It must have been the stinging from my knees that made me feel lightheaded, and then it was dark.

Before I opened my eyes, I heard the buzz of voices shouting out vital signs in confusion. Slowly opening my eyes, I realized I was on a gurney in the back of the ambulance I’d seen earlier. I wondered how long I had been out when a young man with sandy brown hair wearing a jacket that read
homicide
in yellow lettering began to shout to someone in the distance that I was regaining consciousness. From there it was a blur, as the officer told me there had been a murder suicide in my house and asked the names and descriptions of my parents. It couldn’t be real. The paramedic asked me how I was feeling as I sat up, jerking the oxygen mask off of my face.

I felt the tears well up in my eyes as I yelled at them, insistent upon leaving. I couldn’t be there. I couldn’t stand it any longer. I needed answers. I needed to know why this happened. What was the reason? What provoked this? Why couldn’t anyone answer me? Jumping up from the gurney, I started throwing anything I could get my hands on.

Suddenly I was aware of a sharp pain in my wrist. As I tried to move it, I noticed I was sitting in the back seat of an Oceanview police cruiser, wearing handcuffs. Looking up, I found what I presumed to be the reason why I had been restrained. A chrome-colored IV pole was sticking straight out of the windshield of another police cruiser. Had I really done that in a fit of rage? It was then I noticed an EMT sitting on the bumper of the ambulance with a four-inch cut down the right side of his face, flinching as the paramedic who had checked my vital signs earlier was stitching him back up. The car door opened slowly. Detective O’Donoly, from the name on his polo shirt, was staring down at me.

As Detective O’Donoly squatted down to make eye contact, I could smell black coffee on his breath. For a moment he just looked down at the Styrofoam cup he was twisting in his hands. I could see the steam rising from the cup as he was trying to gather the right words.

“Matalyn Holland right?” asked Detective O’Donoly.

“Mattie,” I corrected him.

“Mattie, what happened tonight is something no person should ever have to experience, much less a thirteen-year-old, but that doesn’t excuse what you just did.”

I shook my head, staring back at him quizzically. I tried to find my voice, but it had disappeared.

“By law, I should take you down to the station and have you placed in juvenile detention for what you just did over there. Violation of property and assault with a deadly weapon are serious offenses, young lady.”

I could feel the hot tears start to roll down my cheeks as he talked. Why couldn’t I remember I had done that? What happened to me? I wasn’t a violent person! I had absolutely no recollection of anything he was talking about.

“Mattie, because of what’s happened tonight, I believe you just couldn’t handle anymore. I ran your name, and you’ve never been in any trouble. The neighbors who saw what happened said they’d never seen you react that way, which leads me to believe your reaction was simply a breakdown due to stress. You must have an angel looking out for you. I tell you what, Mattie, I’m gonna cut you loose tonight, okay? Do you have anywhere that you could stay for tonight until we can get this situation sorted out?”

“Yes.” It was a whisper but that was all I could muster out at that point.

I opened my phone and scrolled to find the only person I knew to call. I found Lena’s name and pushed the call button. I couldn’t keep my mind steady enough to count the rings, but after what seemed like forever, I heard the connection.

“Lena, it’s Mattie. I’m sorry I’m calling so late I just didn’t know who else to call and I know it’s a lot to ask, but I—”

Instantly I could feel the tears start to burn my eyes. The dam was about to break and I couldn’t do anything to stop it.

“It’s okay. Take a breath, tell me what’s going on,” Lena responded.

“Seriously Mattie? You know this is your fault right?” Lena responded in a cold, harsh tone when I explained what had happened. “It’s all because of you that they’re dead. You are so stupid you haven’t even figured it out, have you? How could you be so blind? Let me guess, they kept you in the dark and didn’t tell you a thing—poor little Mattie. Well, get ready, because now it’s on you! Of all the places you would go, why would you ask to come here? Do you not have any sense at all of what is happening? Maybe you are more like your daddy than I thought you were. By the way, don’t even think about running. You can run, but you will never be able to hide! The day is coming when you’ll have to choose!”

Then I woke up. Lying there trying to steady my breathing and slow my heart rate, I couldn’t make sense of what Lena said in my nightmare. She didn’t even resemble the Lena I knew. Thinking about how she sounded in my dream just left me with chills all over. I had to let it go. It was just a dream, a horrible dream. Dreams hardly ever made sense, so why should this one? After all, I had been through the unimaginable. But what had Lena been referring to? What was I supposed to be making a choice about? Why would she blame me for what happened with my parents?

CHAPTER 2

Sitting in a brown, leather, overstuffed chair in the front corner of Spirits, a local coffee shop in the center of town, I was fighting back a yawn. Thinking of how I’d ended up with my current life always seemed to drain me. However, when Sharon called drunk from a bar after her fling of the night abandoned her needing a designated driver duty called for me to save the day once again. The only positive in the situation was that she had called before eight o’clock. Sharon was an all-day drinker, so by the time seven or eight o’clock rolled around, I could count on the fact that she was already blitzed somewhere.

She only used my number as a last resort, so I didn’t hear from her very often. Not to mention, she begged worse than a starving, blind man at a highway intersection! Against my better judgment, I drove myself to her rescue, hoping she wouldn’t upchuck in my car on the ten-minute drive back to her house. Lucky for me, Sharon at least held her liquor until I pulled on to the gravel parking space in front of her house, which was basically a one-bedroom shack. Since I don’t deal well with sickness, nausea, and vomiting, I left Sharon on her knees in the front yard. I kind of felt like she deserved it since she purposely drank herself into oblivion.

I always had a problem when it came to having pity on those who refuse to help themselves and continue to destroy their own lives then have the audacity to complain about the fact that their life sucks. I really tried to be understanding as much as possible the way my mother always had been, but half of the time I caught myself being hard and unsympathetic like my father could often be.

Walking into Sharon’s house last night, I was sickened. I wasn’t sure how any person on the planet could live in a place like this. The first thing that hit me was the smell, which sent me automatically into dry heaving. The odor was so offensive I pulled my shirt up over my nose to try to filter the air I breathed; I could practically feel the particles of bacteria enter my body through my nose. It was the mixture of raw sewage, old garbage that hadn’t been taken out in over a week, and an overpowering scent of ammonia coming from a dirty litter box in the entryway, which was overflowing with clumps of cat urine and feces. As I went into the living room, the furniture and carpet was coated in cat hair so thick it was clear it hadn’t been vacuumed in months.

Just behind the couch was the kitchen. The sink was so full of dirty dishes that they were stacked onto the cabinets as well with food caked, dried, and molded on them. When I looked closer, I discovered maggots wriggling in the food all over the kitchen. The stove was so heavily caked in grease I was sure cockroaches were turning the place into a breeding ground while planning a strategic way to divide and conquer.

In the hallway, the smell of body odor from dirty laundry was so overwhelming that it made my eyes burn. When I got to the bathroom, my gag reflex was officially in overdrive. There were dried pools of urine, and fecal matter was smeared all over the toilet seat. Hair was stuck in soap scum all around the sides of the bathtub, and the bathroom counter had some unrecognizable residue caked a fourth of an inch thick, while the sink had dried blood all over the side.

As I stood in the doorway, looking into the small but potent bathroom, I was on the verge of passing out from the combination of putrid aromas. I was fairly certain that if anyone were to turn her in for living this way at the moment, her house would be condemned. I couldn’t leave her in this mess even though I knew she had every physical ability necessary to clean it up all by herself. It was horrible! Just breathing the air for any time period at all was toxic. I went outside to my car, shouting at Sharon that I would be back, knowing she probably didn’t hear a word I said. Then I headed for the nearest store.

Ten minutes later, I had every cleaning supply known to man and three pairs of rubber gloves. As I hauled my purchases inside, I noticed Sharon had made it past the mountains of laundry without falling and injuring herself, landed diagonally on her bed, and passed out with her shoes still on. I was actually glad. If she was asleep, that meant I didn’t have to associate with her. I looked around, assessing the damage, and figured the quicker I started the quicker I would be done. Pulling on the rubber gloves as far as I could toward my elbows, I decided to tackle the laundry first. When I was done with all the laundry, I came to the conclusion that there were at least three other people’s clothes here besides Sharon’s.

Everything about this house in general was repulsive. Why on earth anyone would allow the place they lived in to get so out of hand, I would never be able to understand.