𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐃𝐎𝐎𝐑 𝐓𝐎... 𝐇𝐀𝐏𝐏𝐈𝐍𝐄𝐒𝐒? 𝘁𝗼𝘆𝗮 𝗮.

𝗶𝗶𝗶 -𝐞𝐯𝐞𝐫𝐲𝐝𝐚𝐲.

I spent three more hours at Toya's house. It only felt like an hour passed, it felt so amazing to be free from them.

I learnt that Toya has two older brothers which excel in classical music. Also, the reason why he looked upset while playing the piano was actually because he did not like playing the piano, or any classical music instruments. Even so, he volunteered to teach me how to play the piano.

I accepted his surprisingly nice offer, although I had to leave soon. I told him that the next time I saw him, he should probably show me how to position my hands for the piano keys.

I waved and muttered a rushed goodbye and thank you, getting a glimpse of his neutral face once more before stepping outside the door. I haven't felt this glad in ages, even a rare smile almost crept up onto my face. However, my smile dissipated quickly.

...Where's the driver?

Somehow, the thoughtless driver was late and somehow again, still forgot to go to the petrol station. I predicted this, but did not expect him to be this late.

Oh.

I'm going to get scolded again, just because of my forgetful driver. How unfortunate. I wasted another ten minutes, waiting for the driver to fill up the car lazily. Quietly panicking, I sat there and froze, suddenly sweating a questionable amount.

I finally arrived home after a long twenty-five minutes. Not like I can do anything about it, can I? I closed my eyes, preparing to immediately get shouted at.

Unfortunately, as expected, I was met with my strict mother at the front door as I entered. The apathetic driver did not even bother apologizing for his mistake. Even the indifferent look on his face was apparent as he stood next to the car and quickly lit a cigarette a few metres away from the main door. My mother slammed the door harshly behind me, almost cracking the huge glass window next to it. She just started yelling at me, for an issue that wasn't even my fault?

"Did you know how worried I was? Same with your father too, you know?"

As if she was ever worried about me in the first place. My father wouldn't even worry about me, looking back at past situations. I dislike her. Nevermind, I hate her alot, actually. I would've likely had a way better life if I was never adopted. She continued to shout at me as I took in all the scolding, a neutral expression plastered on my face the entire time while I got reprimanded.

After all that unnecessary scolding and a small lecture from her, I went inside my silent, somewhat safe room and quietly shut the door, repressing my annoyance despite my displeased look. I opened my windows right after the door closed, allowing the refreshing breeze to enter my room as I pushed the curtains to the side. I got an extra, unused room, since they only adopted me to replace their daughter, also known as my half sister. I was never allowed inside her room, since they weren't sure about me sleeping on her bed and they wanted to keep it the way it was already. Not like I cared much, though.

It's only been an hour and I miss being outside, just being free already. The wind gradually got stronger every time I blinked, which sadly meant I had to close my windows right after unlocking them. What a hassle...

As the windows shut noisily, I opened my drawer, picked my pen up and started writing in my diary, which almost fell off my windowsill from that strong gust of wind. I spun my pen around, resting my head on my palm while thinking of something to write about.

When will that savior of mine come? ...Do they even exist, I wonder...?