2001, Seventeen Years Backwards

Her father's eyes glistened as he placed his signature on the final document giving up their house. Their last piece of collateral, surrendered to be declared wholly bankrupt. As the suits locked up their briefcases and sauntered out of the door, they didn't forget to leave instructions for the final handover of the keys. When Anaya went into the kitchen, she caught her dad greedily pop a pill and reach for a glass before her vision blurred and her mind raced back to relive a scene from her past life.

She's home early, hoping to be there before her mother arrives after work, but finds her father there instead.

"Hey, Dad!"

His eyes bulge like the red bulbs that flash outside X-ray rooms, warning against radioactivity. Then he squints as if he can't focus. She doesn't understand why he looks so flushed.

"Oh, Anaya, it's you."

The 's' is slurred and the 'u' sounds strange. All wrong for his usual eloquence.

"Are you... drunk, Dad?"

"You sound just like your mother." He staggers to the bar, his hand unsteady as he pours himself another.

"I think you've had enough." Anaya strides forward to stop him but falters at the craziness in his eyes.

"Who the hell do you think you are? Telling me what to do?" He growls and slams his fist on the counter so hard the empty decanter rocks precariously.

"Is that why we're losing the house? You can't be sober enough to work and you're drinking whatever we have left?"

"Get out!"

But his explosion freezes her in place. It's as if she's pressured the magma too hard and the volcano has erupted.

His face glowers scarlet. When she doesn't move, he charges, scrambling to get to her. "You don't live here anymore. Leave me!"

Anaya is shaking now, whether from anger or fear she doesn't know, but she won't wait around until he reaches her. The stained-glass window on the front door shatters into tiny pieces behind her as it slams shut when he gets to it at last. It sounds like a musical cadence, heightening some eerie psycho movie score.

Quiet and protected by the shadows, she skulks on the porch until her mom drives in. Anaya jumps straight into the car and asks to go somewhere else to talk. They pull over a few blocks away when her mother can't hold it in any longer. It's then that Anaya witnesses her mother living up to her name. When it's really necessary, she has the patience of a saint. Anaya has seen first-hand how quickly her dad becomes aggressive, but things are much worse than she imagines.

"I have to come home soundlessly when he's comatose, and leave early morning as he's waking up. If I suggest getting help, it makes him worse. I'm being a coward, but this is the only way to avoid confrontation." Her mom resembles a ghoul under the street light, her skin sagging from the weight she's shed and the circles under her eyes a bruised black-purple.

Anaya crumpled in a heap, her flashback refusing to take her any further.

"Anaya!" Her father bent down to sweep her up off the floor and carried her to the couch. "Did you faint, honey? I'll get you some water..." He began to turn away.

"No!" she begged, holding on to him with an iron grip. He turned back, alarmed, his eyes focused and as sober as sin. Anaya pulled him close, tightened her arms around him, and sobbed inconsolably. He patted and soothed until she, at last, let go.

"Are you still taking your meds, honey?" His concern that she was the one who'd slipped into depression made the memory she'd experienced all the more frightening and poignant.

She simply nodded. "Are you?"

"Like a daily prayer." He tapped his breast pocket. "I never thanked you, Ana, but I don't think I could have gotten through all this without the treatment. I've felt so sorry that you've gotten this from me and that I'm putting you and your mom through all these issues with the business, I've wanted to just give up. But I'm doubly responsible for you now. As your father and treatment buddy, I can't let myself slip up, because you need my support."

Anaya couldn't keep it together much longer, so she just said whatever she needed to make sure he stayed on the meds. "That's what helps me, Dad. Seeing you get better with me." She managed a smile. "Will you be okay if I go upstairs and sleep for a bit?"

"I'll be fine. A new adventure awaits us. So, let's get you some rest." He helped her to her room, hovered while she settled on her bed and closed her eyes, and then pulled the door quietly shut behind him.

Anaya pieced together a little more of her past life. It had been about the same time in her previous existence when her father had started consolidating their debt. But that's where any similarities vaporized. He'd turned to the bottle for solace. At first, it was one drink to calm his nerves after work, then another to sleep at night. A few weeks later, he needed Dutch courage in the morning to face the day.

Tears of fear and grief were replaced with fresh ones of gratefulness and relief at how her dad acted now. The alcohol and self-destruction might have led to him being treated for depression, but it was doubtful that the diagnosis would have pointed towards bipolar disorder. But now, he had the correct medication and therapy. Under the circumstances, he looks so well. And Mom touches, hugs, or kisses him all the time.

Her heart warmed and her breathing slowed as she took stock of how much she'd changed so far. Properly treating her mental illness, finally understanding that her dad's sickness was never a voluntary dive into alcoholism, getting into college and pursuing a career that may truly suit her...  A fierce sense of pride and accomplishment took over.

It was then swept away as it if were meaningless by a newly-forged, crushing dread. All these steps forward might as well be erased in a sandstorm, if she and her parents lost one another.

All the years I spent wandering around the world, trying to 'find myself,' did no one any good. Anaya knew what she needed to do now. It might be unfair to burden a child with the problems of her parents, but she was no first-time teenager. She might have come back intending to relive her own life to save herself from her biggest regret, but if she could keep her father healthy and her parents happy, she'd stay right here.

***

Later that evening, the responses from colleges stayed unopened. Her right hand hovered on the mouse, and her left held the phone. They'd agreed to wait until they all received them to read together. A three-way phone call would have to suffice.

"Open," said Kait. They read in silence.

"I got in!" Tay screeched.

Anaya had to pull away from the phone for a second, but she never blinked or took her eyes off the screen. "So did I..."

Even to her ears, her voice sounded strange and raspy. It had actually happened, and she couldn't believe it. Sure that the third affirmation was coming, she reread her acceptance but stopped halfway when she heard nothing.

"I didn't." Kait hung up.

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