𝑰𝒏 𝒘𝒉𝒊𝒄𝒉 𝑬 tries to have the best time possible with her friends this summer despite going on a dangerous adventure. What will happend to all of the Pogues at the end of the adventure? Will some of them break the 'no pogue-on-pogue macking r...
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After everything with my mom, I found myself on the dock, cradled by the quiet embrace of the water, alone with my thoughts. But the calm didn't last long; a hurricane was rolling in, forcing me back inside. Since I was young, I've always sought solace in the open air—walks under the sky or just standing still, letting the breeze untangle the knots in my mind.
When I stepped back into the house, there was no sign of my mom. I peeked into my step-parents' room and saw my step-dad sprawled on the bed, fast asleep. My step-mom was absent, the room still and empty.
I wandered into the kitchen for a glass of water and noticed an envelope resting on the counter, addressed simply, 'for my E.' 'E' was the nickname my friends back home had given me, and my mom, hearing it once, had carried it into her own vocabulary ever since.
I opened the envelope, expecting what I always found—my mom's way of patching over the hurt. Whenever guilt gnawed at her, she'd write me a small letter, hoping it would absolve her. The words were always the same: apologies, promises that she loved me, assurances that it wouldn't happen again, that none of the sharp things she said were ever meant.
But wouldn't it be nice if she meant everything she wrote in those letters.
I began to read.
I'm sorry for everything I said earlier. I didn't mean it. I'm proud of you, and I'll let you hang out with whoever you want, even if I don't like them. I love you.
This one was brief, a few lines to bandage over the cracks. I sighed, slipping the letter back into the envelope and leaving it where it had been waiting for me. I finished my glass of water, then headed upstairs to my room. I changed into my pajamas, let the day slip away, and drifted into sleep.
・・・・・
I woke up to a message from Kie, asking me to meet them at the dock. I dressed quickly, slipping out of the house without a word, grateful not to cross paths with my parents.
