I went upstairs, grabbed my stuff from the bathroom, and dropped it in my sports bag, not caring about the shampoo possibly leaking onto my clothes. I thought about how this escalated so quickly. Somehow, we went from them showing concern and trying to do the right thing, to throwing accusations and threats around in record time. All this time I was secretly wishing for these people to be my family again, to show some concern and consideration for me. But the moment I got the first indication of them actually doing just that, I immediately got defensive and actively looked for ways to prove their insincerity.
Was it my fault? Was I unreasonable in wanting an actual reason why I should even risk trusting them again? I didn’t know, but I could admit to myself that I was simply too scared of being shat on again to just dive into it.
When my bag was packed, I made my way back down the stairs. Putting on my shoes, I noticed them standing in the hallway watching me.
“Alright. See you in about a week, maybe.” I said before lifting my eyes to look at them. “And just on the off chance you actually care, though I really don’t see a reason why you would, I’m not planning to take a toaster-bath anytime soon, since I still have to graduate. After that ... no idea, yet. But I’ll figure it out.”
And with that, I left the house, hopped into my Jeep, and drove home.
The second December week started with me making plans. I had already finished all the online assignments the school had made available to me, and I doubted there would be many more before Christmas break, so I was free until I had to go back to school in January. Thinking about my online assignments gave me my first idea.
While I was pretty certain that my job with Bill was secure, my responsibilities had changed so much during the last year, I couldn’t just assume they wouldn’t change or expand again. What if Bill needed something done that I didn’t happen to already be experienced in? My job wouldn’t be as secure anymore if he had to hire someone more experienced and more knowledgeable. And while I still had considerable savings (for a seventeen year old), paying six months’ rent in advance, and another three months’ rent as security deposit, cost me a sizable chunk of it! Not to mention the ten grand Claire had taken.
Maybe it was time to finally get those standard certifications IT-workers needed. A quick internet search told me that I could get all of those from the local community college. Since there were no actual degrees attached, most certifications required just five to eight days of lectures before I could take the exams. I would need to check if I could somehow work this into my school and work schedule.
Next on the agenda was the state of my home. With my family finally off my back, and my injuries healing, I wanted to turn my apartment into something that I could actually live in, instead of just existing in it. Which turned out to be surprisingly hard to start on. I had given up on all my hobbies, had no extracurricular activities aside from work, and really didn’t know what to do about it. After I got out of work the next day, I visited a copy shop to print out the selfies from my old phone, and completed the collection of photos showing me with Tess. I hung them in the living room above the sofa as a first step to decorate my home.
Apart from that, though, I couldn’t even decide whether I should turn the second bedroom into an office or a guest room. While I would like to have a place for friends to stay over, I didn’t have any friends to stay over. The only one even close to that was Paul, and he lived just two floors above me. While I would’ve liked to have an office, I didn’t really need one with all that cash lying around. I didn’t need to pick up any more programming work on the side, and had already placed my desk and computer in my bedroom.
I searched online for decoration ideas, and found quite a few I liked. Then I made lists of what I needed to buy. I had to wait until I was sure the family wouldn’t actually call the police, since my confidence of them not being able to drag me home had drastically dwindled the longer I thought about it. Being more or less safe at seventeen was just something I had read on the internet, and I didn’t want to invest any more money just to then be forced to leave it all behind. After what happened at the house, and the last few comments Grandpa made, I wouldn’t put it past them to actually call the police and claim I sell drugs or something, proven by a mountain of cash the police should be able to find on me.
