The Undesirable (Undesirable Series) by S. Celi Read Free Book Online

killed my mother and I didn’t even get to say goodbye. I would never, ever, ever allow myself to forget it. Ever.
    The road home gave me no other choice. I would walk right by where she died. The dread and fear rose through my body with each step. My throat constricted when I got to the park’s edge. I stared at the trees, the shrubs, and the metal jungle gym in the center of a brick pathway. I knelt down and examined the bricks.
    Then I stood up and despair flooded every blood vessel in my body. The park looked like nothing ever happened there, as if those 800 or so people never even existed. I could not believe it. Somehow, I carried that weight home. I opened the door to the shack and then reveled in the chance to shut out the world. Once I closed myself inside my home, I leaned with my back against the door and took in my new reality. For the first time, I stood all alone in the world.
    An orphan.
    I plodded to the back of the house as I peeled off my dress, skipping my room for my mother’s room. I lay down on the bed and wrapped the thin grey duvet around me. My eyes focused on the damaged oak beams that somehow held the small space together.
    “Oh my God, I can’t believe this is happening,” I mumbled to myself in the darkness.
    I still smelled her in the sheets--a mix of vodka and honey. I still saw her indentation in the bed. I still tasted the bitterness and regret I had for a mom who spent the last decade of my life as just a ghost. I lay there, didn’t move, and waited for the tears.
    They never came. Not one.
    In one day, I transformed into a broken down, hollowed out, shocked shell. As sleep settled in around me, someone pounded on the front door. The force shook the whole place. I sat up after the third bang on the door. I listened for it to come again.
    Bang. Bang. Bang.
    I pulled on my mother’s old green bathrobe and padded to the front door. For a second, I wondered if the person at the door left, so I waited.
    Bang. Bang. Bang.
    I took a deep breath before I slid the lock open.

CHAPTER EIGHT

    “You alright? I know you’re not.” I heard the hushed tone as soon as I pulled the door open. The thick night air rushed into the shack along with the words.
    My shoulders relaxed. “Fostino,” I managed. My voice came out in a whisper.
    He stood on the wooden front porch, leaned against the doorframe, and rested his face right up against the door seam. The light from my living room flooded his face. I saw every one of the blood vessels in his dark eyes. His skin had turned sallow. Fostino looked as pale and horrible as I did.
    “Patrols.” He answered my question before I asked it. “I got the outside of the town again. They always give me that route.” He shrugged.
    I nodded and then glanced back at the sparse living room with the plaid couch, wooden chair, and crate coffee table.
    “Well, um… do you want to come in here?” It embarrassed me for him to see the inside of the house, but I couldn’t think of to do next. Our home, my home, didn’t compare to the one he lived in with his parents next to the convenience store.
    Fostino stood up straight and scrutinized the field to his left and his right. I did, too. No one walked or drove on the road. Everyone had done the same as me. They shut themselves inside their homes. I wondered if they too hoped to close the door on what had happened that morning.
    “Okay,” he said in an uncertain voice. He walked inside and I closed the door behind him. He sank down on the black wooden chair. I sat down on the couch a half foot away.
    I buried my face in my hands. My tight and drawn skin felt like a canvas stretched over a wooden frame. “What time is it?” I asked through the muffle of my hands. I swore four years had passed in one day.
    “Just after nine. I’ve got an hour before my shift ends and the other groups start their checks.”
    My next words cut through the air.
    “My mom’s dead,” I announced. “She’s dead.  Oh my God. Oh