Hidden in Plain Sight

*Carly's POV*

It was the longest flight ever back to Australia. Back to my home. Jaime came with me. Being in a band, Jaime has grown a custom to the air travel life. He led my dead and emotionless self through the airport and onto the plane. He seated me and packed my things away. I just sat there. He tried to make me laugh or at least smile a few times. He would try to tickle me, or tell a joke, and although they were funny, I did not laugh. I did not show any emotion. I was dead inside.

The whole flight I was silent and complacent. I rarely moved and I refused any food or drink Jaime offered me. Jaime was extremely worried about me, and I didn't want that. So for him, I ate a cube of ice. I did not feel like the ice, but I didn't want Jaime worrying about me so much. I am completely fine and I wish he could understand that.

We landed in Sydney late in the afternoon. My brother Dustin and his wife and son came to pick us up. Jaime carried my things while I bolted into my brothers arms. I have not seem my brother since I moved to Baltimore when I was 19. I jumped into his embrace, hugging him as tight as I could. I couldn't hold back the tears. I missed my brother.

I introduced Jaime to my brother and my sister in law, Grace. I introduced him to Ben too. Ben instantly fell in love with Jaime, mostly because of his spiky hair and tattoos. Ben is going to be a little punk boy, I can see it. He's quite similar to me as a young child. I carried the little 6 year old while the boys carried our bags to Dustin's car. We packed them in and I went to get into the car, but my brother stopped me. I asked him why. Just seconds later, he pointed to the navy marked aeroplane that was coming into land. Blake came home too. I cried.

Again, when Blake walked through the gates, I ran into his arms when he dropped his bags. I feel like my little old self again. Having both my brothers around me again, hugging me and giving me that perfect sense of protection again. It's just a terrible occasion for this to happen though.

---

It was like a movie. The sky was dark and grey, a storm was coming. We all stood there in black. Silent, unmoving. I wore a black dress, Jaime wore a black suit. Blake wore his navy uniform and Dustin wore a black suit too. Everyone was dressed in black. It suited the occasion. Black sky, black clothing, the cold black heart of the man who is being buried six feet under.

Not many people came to his funeral. I don't blame them, not even I wanted to be here. But I am. I am here because he was my father. He was my father for he first five years of my life and that is what I am saying goodbye too. I am saying goodbye to the happy family man, not to the cold monster that put me through hell. My brothers and I did not shed any tears. We did not show any emotion. We had nothing to feel about this man.

We had no formal service for Him. We didn't need one. We did not ask for a priest. We didn't need one. He didn't deserve a good funeral. He only deserved to be buried deep in the ground. And that's what we let happen. Everyone who came, had said goodbye. And not in the form of a warming 'I'll miss you' goodbye. It was in the form of complete hatred. "Goodbye Michael".

---

Coming home from the burial, I felt like a few of my old feelings and wounds were buried with him. I was lying in bed with Jaime that night. It was late but I was unable to sleep. Jaime was lightly dozing, not wanting to go to sleep because he wanted to make sure I was okay. But i laid staring at my ceiling, the same old ceiling i stared at for years thinking about my father. But this time, it was different.

Instead of the anxious feelings of coming face to face with my father in the streets one day, I had the calming feeling of knowing he was no longer walking among us. The fear of him coming to find me or my brothers and hurt us again had left. They were buried. All those feelings were buried with my father. And it felt like a weight had been lifted off my shoulders. But a heavy burden still walked with me. The burden of vivid memories.

I could see the blood dripping down my face when I looked in my mirror. I could see the cuts and faded scars on my ribs when my hands lightly touched them. I could still feel the bruises. I could still see the pain in my fathers eyes before he had hit me. But I could still somehow see a man, pleading to come back, but the cocaine in his bloodshot eyes had already told me he was too far gone to be saved.

But as I watched him be lowered into the hole, I felt the four years of physical, mental, emotional abuse be buried with him. I had laid to rest my childhood. I had laid to rest the nightmares and lucid dreaming. The pain I had felt just a few days ago on that beach and the pain I had felt on the anniversary of my mothers death had all left. I was new again.

But some things never change.

Notes

Oh my god I have updated already! Please guys, let me know if you like or hate anything.

also, I am thinking this is the perfect time to bring my story to an end. Stay tuned!