February 1998
Maida’s driving back home to Garfield, she has the radio turned all the way up, trying to distract herself, her head still spinning from the last couple of weeks. She’s still sore and bruised up from the night her and Elena escaped from Luke, the Ridgemont Butcher, the events still playing out in her head constantly.
The thought of going back home fills her with both dread and a sense of relief, back to her old life and the problems she left there just last month. She’ll be going back to the life she’s always had, she’s changed but nothing else has. And who can she tell about all of this? She doesn’t know if she’ll tell her friends or family about any of this. Probably not. It feels so strange to know something that most other people aren’t aware of. A whole part of the universe that’s open to her and remains a secret to others.
Maida had had fun staying with Michael and Chelsea, she’d miss hanging out with them. She had been staying in their spare room. After Elena had passed they had gone on a short impromptu ski vacation. It had made her sad that her new friend hadn’t been able to go with them. The freezing cold winter air still hung briskly, she could feel it coming through the vents in the dashboard and flipped them closed. The thought of going back to her normal life terrified her, she had no idea how she could pretend nothing had changed. She was always fidgety from the excitement. She flipped the vents back open, the freezing cold air felt sharp, but it was good, it distracted her enough to forget the strange time she’d had in … As Maida drove down the hill, the snow started to fade, it wouldn’t be so cold back home. Maida sighed and turned on the radio, still no reception, she clicked the button and turned it off again. She had hoped to listen to the news, she’d had no idea what was going on in the outside world.
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Maida was looking forward to seeing Ed again and had attempted to call him up this morning. Unfortunately there was no answer. She didn’t leave a message, she thought it would be fun to make a surprise visit later that afternoon. She drove further downhill, staring at the forest surrounding her on both sides, it was a bright sunny day, the once foreboding trees looks much more welcoming today.
The drive went by quickly and she was back in … by 10 am. She drove down the main street past old nineteenth century brick and wood buildings, the old part of town had a very wild west look to it. She turned left at the park, a huge hulking thing full of oak trees planted by families in the area. She continued down the road aways and saw her house on the right, a small fifties red brick California bungalow/or Victorian?. She turned into the driveway and parked behind an old yellow VW that belonged to her mother. She’d always hated the car when she was a kid, but now she appreciated it a bit more. She got out of her little red hatchback? and gave it a once over. It was a tad worse for wear, the dent in the back would forever serve as a reminder of the harrowing events she’d recently begun to recover from. She felt a bit misty eyed but swallowed her grief and started walking to her front door. She didn’t usually cry, she blamed the trauma and a lack of sleep.
She was glad to be home.