Guilt

I stared out the window, trying to soak up as much Florida sun as I could. The fleeting glimpses of the beautiful landscape were wasted on me. I wasn’t paying attention because my mind was wrapped around my future.

         I was going to Providence, Rhode Island, and I could not be happier. Well, I could, but I wasn’t sure how I would somehow sell my parents on the idea of me being so far away from them. I didn’t know if that was the only reason that they were upset. I thought they might believe that I had been looking for an excuse to get away from them.

         I laughed inwardly at that. It was ridiculous that they would think that of me. I had only been telling my parents for the past seven months how much I would miss them.

         A soft sigh from the front seat broke me from my thoughts. I looked expectantly at the passenger seat, waiting for my mother to turn around. She did not disappoint me. A frown turned the corners of her pink lips down. Her eyebrows pulled together in a worried expression as she surveyed me for a silent moment.

         “Honey, are you sure you want this?” she asked me for what I hoped was the final time. I squared my shoulders defensively.

         “Yes, Mom,” I said. Her mouth twitched slightly at the confidence in my voice.

         “It’s never too late, Kirsten. We’re only two hours from the house.” My jaw dropped in response. For some reason, she was encouraged by my reaction to continue.

         “UF or UNF are good schools, Kirsten. You could get a teaching degree here as easy as you could at Brown.” I drank in that in while I formed a careful reply in my head.

         “Mom,” I breathed at last, “I tried UF. You know that I couldn’t handle that school.  I want to go to Brown and make a fresh start.” She looked at me suddenly with fierce eyes.

         “Kirsten, you don’t have to move so far away because of that boy. We got a restraining order against him. The school expelled him. Mrs. Fitch told me yesterday that his family moved out of state anyway.”

         “Mom, you don’t understand. I had nightmares every day because I had to go to school. I can’t go there anymore. It holds too many memories.” I finished in a whisper while a flash of his sneering face lit up in before my eyes. Then, a sudden realization hit me.

         “This is why you don’t want me to be so far away. You want to look after me so that nothing like that ever happens again.” My parents stared at each other. My mom took my hand in hers. She was shaking slightly.

         “Sweetheart, you don’t know how terrified we were when we got that call from the hospital. Then, when we got there, you were still unconscious. We didn’t know if you would ever wake up.” Her eyes filled with tears as she spoke. A few cascaded down her face into the end of her long hair. I wanted to do something to reassure her that I would be fine.

         “Mom, I know that you are worried about me, but I have to move out on my own eventually. I just have to get away from him. I can’t live in Florida anymore. Plus, I’d be an idiot not to go to Brown University. It’s one of the top-rated schools in the country.

         “If it makes you feel better, Mom, I’ll call you and Dad everyday. I’ll keep a can of pepper-spray on me at all times, too.” My parents laughed at that. My mom wiped away her tears quickly as her mouth turned into a smile.

         “You always knew how to do that, Kirsten.”

         “Do what?”

         “Stop me from worrying so much.” I smiled sheepishly. I squeezed her hand that was still holding mine.

         “I love you, Mom,” I said.

         “Love you too.” My Dad cleared his throat suddenly.

         “Love you too, Dad.” He laughed but kept his eyes on the road. My Mom kissed the top of my head before turning around again in her seat. I watched silently as my parents looked at each other. The love in their eyes had always been something that amazed me. Their hands linked together and rested on the center consul between them. I smiled, wishing with all my heart that someday I could feel like that about someone.

         My eyes wandered to the window again. A sign flashed by that read: Welcome to Georgia. I sighed softly, knowing that we still had a while to drive before we would stop at a hotel for the night. I placed the ear buds of my iPod in my ears. I scrolled through the many playlists I had until I finally settled on a list from my favorite band, Dashboard Confessional. The last thing I remembered was the chorus of “Stolen” humming in my ears.