Please Remember Me

Chapter 7

Conversations with my mother always ended up with me in tears,  wanting to throw myself off a cliff. 

I hadn't expected to spend my Wednesday night silently sobbing in the shower. I don't know why I even bothered to answer her calls anymore. They were only filled with judgement and ridicule. Her tone disappointed and, always, turned to anger. I tried not to let her venom seep into my soul, but it was difficult to resist. She was my mom. Once upon a time, she looked at me as if I was precious to her. She showed love; yes, she could be stern, but she loved me. 

That changed in high school and I never understood why.

I would watch her be forgiving and kind to my siblings; but she was cruel to me. It used to be behind my back. I would find out from my siblings and father, the words she spat. Then we would get into arguments and she would spew her hate in my face. That's how it had been for years now. 

I just wanted my mom back, the one who loved me. 

I could feel the numbness creeping into my soul; I had spent the last bit of emotions I had left. 

I was an inch above rock bottom. 

I wanted to feel warm and I knew exactly where to go.

Getting out of the shower, I dried off and got dressed in sweats and an oversized T-shirt. I didn't care how I looked so I didn't bother looking in the mirror. I was about to suffocate and needed a breath of fresh air. Slipping on my worn boots and red coat, I snatched my purse and left the apartment, just barely remembering to lock the door. 

After hailing a cab, I told the driver where I wanted to go, and watched the busy streets pass by in a blur. I sniffled continuously trying to reign in the tears, but they fell on their own volition. Finally, the sign of Bob's Diner flashed as the car pulled to a stop and my heart seemed to unclench.

Paying the driver, I exited the car, and thanked whoever was listening that the diner was open at 10PM on a weeknight. 

From the windows I could see only a few customers; maybe five. None were sitting at the counter. Entering I note the sign that says to seat yourself. I take a swivel chair at the center of the bar. I ignore the disappointment when I notice that the waitress working is definitely not Luke. 

The waitress looks half-asleep as she takes my order for a coffee and a small bowl of homemade chili. I note that her name is Crystal on her nametag. She barely acknowledges my existence before she sets my order on the counter behind her where the chef could grab it.

When she hands me the cup of coffee, I add two sugars and one creamer. Instead of drinking it though, I find myself staring at the liquid, letting the warmth seep into my hands that are wrapped around it. 

It's hot enough to sting my hands, but I don't move them. 

The sting feels better than the numbness and focuses my attention on the present. Sniffling again I raise the cup up and take a sip letting the hot liquid burn the roof of my mouth and tongue. Cringing, I set it down to look up. Directly in front of me is the open area that peaks into the kitchen showing a beast of a man reading my ticket. He wasn't super muscular, like Silas, but he was dark. 

Literally and figuratively.

His skin was a tan that battled Silas. He wore a black fitted T-shirt and a white apron over it. His hair was darker than night, short and messy atop his head. His eyes were glaring at the ticket in his hand preventing me from seeing their color. He had thick eyebrows, as dark as his hair, that were scrunched down. 

 With an intense frown, he grumbled, and looked up making direct eye contact with me. 

Coal; his eyes were the color of coal.