Maybe I Hate You

7 - Little Deschutes River

I woke up on the couch with the blanket over me and the tv off. After finding my phone I discovered it was around 2 am. Sitting up I groaned and stretched, pushing the blanket off of me. I noticed there were still plates on the coffee table so I picked them up and took them to the kitchen.

After I set them down and go to turn around to head upstairs; however, I freeze in my tracks when I hear a noise. I reminded myself that my dad was here and it could be him, but the sounds came from downstairs. They should be coming from upstairs, where he should be asleep. I followed the sound of the noises, leading me through the living area and back to the hallway. Pausing at the staircase, holding my breath, I waited to hear another noise. I could swear I heard soft crying but I wasn't sure. I stuck my head around the last corner before the room that used to belong to my mom and dad.

I saw the dark outline of my dad sitting on the bed through the cracked door. I haven't seen that door open in years. It looked as though he was hunched over holding a blanket, softly crying. He missed Mom. I didn't know what I could say that would comfort him, I missed her too. Or at least, I missed the mom I remembered when I was little. After debating to myself whether I should go in or not, I decided against it and turned back around to head up the stairs. It felt like he needed his space, and I'd only make things worse.

I headed up to my room after grabbing my phone. Though the couch was comfy, my bed was the best for me. I had too many pillows for one person and a big comforter, along with a few different soft blankets. I'd also be lying if I didn't say I still had a few stuffed animals sitting on my bed that I had gotten over the years.

Clearing the notifications from my phone, I didn't see anything significant. I set my alarm to make sure I'd still wake up in time for school and set my phone down on the nightstand next to me. I cuddled up into my bedding and quickly fell back asleep for the few more hours I had.

Within the first few minutes of waking up, it definitely felt like Monday. I stubbed my toe a few times on the way to the bathroom and I dropped my phone a few times. I took the quickest shower of my life after realizing I had hit snooze one too many times. After, I finished getting ready as fast as I could while not overwhelming myself. I threw on a basic t-shirt and jeans combo, along with my boots, and threw my hair up in a messy bun. 

Heading downstairs, I was reminded about my father being home when I smelled bacon cooking. I quickened my pace a bit as I was already running behind. Arriving into the kitchen I saw him standing by the stove, pulling pieces of bacon onto a plate. I smiled to myself as flashes of all the times growing up when I walked in to see him doing this exact same thing. When we did spend time together, it was usually in the mornings when he had a little bit of time before heading to work. He'd always say, "The rich are not birds, they have never had to be up early in order to catch the worm when they can just buy them by the case."

I walked up beside him and stole a piece of bacon off the plate. It was still hot, but I ate it anyways.

"Good morning kiddo," Dad says as I walk over to the fridge and grab juice out of the fridge.

"Morning," I say as I pour a glass of orange juice and take a big gulp.

"You better get going you're running late," He says placing the plate of bacon on the counter next to me.

"Yes, I overslept, I know." I ate another piece of bacon.

"Well, here," He grabs a few napkins and wraps the bacon in it. "Take it to go."

"Thanks," I say. "When are you leaving again?"

"I'm not sure," He says.

I give him a look for a long moment before walking out the door to my car.