Status Quo

Chapter 31 - Second Chance?

The breakfast bar is filled with uncomfortable silence as my mom, Flinette and I all sit down for breakfast. I can't really remember when last we all sat down like this, it feels weird and it makes me want to run away to my room, my safe haven.

"Eat" my mom says, Flinette and I automatically pick up our forks like we were being controlled and begin to dig into the waffles.

I take a hesitant bite and I feel my throat getting tighter as I chew, I couldn't hold myself back when the first drop of hot tears slid down my face and then followed by another and many more. It hurt like hell to be seating here eating my mom's waffles when the last time I had them were three years ago before the accident.

I can't believe the first time I cry in a while is because of some damn waffles, I sniff and it gets my mom's attention, she looks at me with an apologetic look and it makes my heart feel heavier. I drop my fork by my plate, unable to eat anymore because every time I swallow it feels like something hot is rolling down my throat, I clear my throat as the burning sensation still lingers even after drinking half a cup of water.

I stand up awkwardly from my seat and my mom looks at me while I avoid her gaze because I don't want to see any negative emotion in her face that might be directed towards me.

I pick my bag from the back of my chair, "where are you going?" my mom asks as she looks at my plate stacked with uneaten waffles.

"I—I.... I need to go" I stutter and dash out of the house. I run to the bus stop and hail a taxi cab. I give the driver directions to the old abandoned church near the edge of town.

I take in a deep breath as I alight the car and smell the musky air of old wood that I really love. I open the gate that makes a weird noise and causes me to jump slightly.

I remember how much I loved coming here with my mom when this church wasn't abandoned and Father Peter was still alive. Those days after service were the best for me even though I can't really remember what his sermons sounded like.

He would always sit me on his lap and feed me cookies nonstop while asking how my week was and if he was more handsome than my daddy now after eating a fresh cookie. I would always tell him that my dad was more handsome because unlike his, my dad's hair wasn't white and his skin wasn't saggy.

When he died I still remember crying hard and wishing I had told him he was more handsome and that maybe if I had done so then he wouldn't have died in his sleep. Back then my mom would always hug me whenever I remembered him and then she would sing me to sleep while rubbing my hair and telling me that Father Peter is now an angel in heaven and he is constantly watching over me.

I miss my mom of those days, the woman who taught me forgiveness but didn't waste a second before turning her back on me, the woman who would smile at me but for the past years couldn't stand the sight of my face.

"What are you doing here?" Jordan asks from behind me and I jump and scream as his voice and presence catches me off guard.

I don't say anything and just keep walking towards the church building, I can't believe he thought of coming here.

"Jossie wait up" he calls as he jogs behind me. I pretend like he isn't even here and keep walking but he grabs my hand and prevents me from going anywhere.

"What do you want?" I ask

"I wanted to apologize" he says solemnly.

"Why?" I ask, "did I ask for an apology?"

"I just wanted to apologize"

"Well I didn't ask for one so I don't need it" I say and attempt to turn away but his firm grip on my hand keeps me in place.