Skeletons

Chapter 4

Shit is about to hit the fam my dudes enjoy the drama :))

January 24, 2005: My first week of school had come to an end quickly and the weekend had ended even quicker.

I look in the mirror put a few silver star-shaped barrettes in my hair and follow the smell of bacon into the kitchen. "Ooh, bacon this is new...you never make bacon...you hate the smell. Did someone die or something?" I say only half joking. "No, it was on sale." She says putting some crispy still sizzling bacon on my plate. "But also as a thank you for being so good about the move." I give her a slight smile but don't respond because of the bacon in my mouth. 

I swallow the last of my breakfast as I get a look at the clock. "Shit I have to go or I'm gonna be late" I quickly get off of the barstool and pick my backpack off the floor. "Language Lydia." She says as I turn towards the door. "Sorry love you, Mom" She responds. "It's alright love you too hon." She says something else that I don't hear because I am already out the door.

_

"Have a good day at school" I say as she runs out of the house. 

I let out a sigh and flop myself onto the couch. 

The past week has gone by in a flash and I have had barely any time to think about the incident at the construction sight. I convinced myself that I was just being paranoid and I didn't actually see him but I know that isn't true. I know it was him. I don't know how it is even possible but I KNOW it was him.

I try not to focus on my anxieties and work on brainstorming the next chapter of my book. Its supposed to be a satirical dark comedy which I took much inspiration on my teen years.

 My publisher says its great and how she thinks it is good enough to be made into a movie. I haven't thought of a name for it yet. I keep working for a few hours until I hear a knock at the front door.

I stand up assuming its the package I ordered a few days ago and I just need to sign for it. I walk up to the door and open it. 

"Where do I si-" My eyes make their way to the person at the front doors face. It's him, my past coming back from the grave. I am sure the look of horror that is probably on my face is noticeable as he furrows his brows slightly. 

His mouth opens to say something but I slam the door shut in his face.

I fall to the floor leaning my head on the door, my vision is blurred by the tears welling up in my eyes. My breathing gets shaky and I grip onto my shirt trying to bring myself back to reality. 

I crawl myself into the bathroom.

 My hands still shaking out of panic grab onto the toilet. I feel my stomach start to churn, I break out in a cold sweat and  there goes my breakfast. 

After a few more seconds of panic I calm myself down enough to stand up before gripping onto the sink and laying my weight on it. 

I take the cup with our toothbrushes in it and empty the brushes onto the side of the sink. Then I fill the cup up with sink water and swish it around in my mouth and spit it into the sink to wash away the taste of my vomit.

I look at myself in the mirror the my tears turning anything in their path pink and puffy. I look like a shell of myself. It's pathetic that just seeing the face of someone from my past...No scratch that seeing HIS face has such an effect on my. I take long deep breaths and wipe away my tears before pacing the apartment for a few minutes to stall the inevitable.

I walk over to the door taking my sweet time to re-open the door. I go to turn the door knob but stop my hand hovering over it. I take a deep breath and open the door.