Sage Rose Parker, a seventeen almost eighteen year old girl getting ready for college with her two friends.
Having the world on her shoulders and her past in her mind she's down to break.
An alcoholic as a mother and an abusive father in jail didn'...
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The Road Ahead ==================================== The car hums with quiet tension, streets slipping by like forgotten dreams. Outside, the city fades, but the silence grows louder.
His voice cuts through, soft and sharp, but I don't answer. I can't.
The road is long, but I follow. One stop, then home, he says.
But the shadows here feel too close, the weight of his words heavier than I admit.
I tell myself it's fine, nothing new. But the line blurs, and the truth hides just out of reach.
In the dark, it's easy to pretend— to believe I'm safe, to trust the hand that leads me. But I know the road ahead is paved with lies. ~~~~~~~~~~~~
I pace back and forth in my room, phone pressed to my ear. My fingers are trembling, and I can't stop thinking about the mess I've gotten myself into. The air feels too thick, like it's closing in on me. Mike's voice, calm and light, cuts through the static in my mind, a contrast to my racing thoughts. But no matter how soothing his tone is, I can't calm down.
"Mike, what do I wear?" I ask, my voice pitched higher than usual. I glance at the clothes scattered on my bed—hoodies, jeans, a tank top I haven't worn in months. Nothing feels right. Owen's coming over, and just the thought of it has me on edge. But what makes it worse is knowing he's going to be here too—the guy I might have a crush on. That thought alone makes my stomach twist in knots.
Mike chuckles softly, his voice full of warmth. "Sage, you don't need to impress anyone. Just be yourself."
I stare at my reflection in the mirror, my lips pressing into a thin line. My hair's a mess, my skin feels blotchy, and the dark circles under my eyes make me look as exhausted as I feel. I try to imagine someone liking this version of me, and it feels impossible.
"But I look—" I start to argue, but Mike cuts me off.
"No makeup," he says firmly, but not unkindly. "Trust me. If he's worth your time, he'll love you the way you are."
His words settle in my mind, a small anchor in the storm. I chew my bottom lip, still unconvinced, but there's a part of me that wonders if he's right. Mike's always had a way of grounding me when I feel like I'm spinning out of control. I let out a sigh, sinking onto the edge of my bed.
"Okay... fine," I mumble, my voice barely above a whisper.
"Good. Now relax. Breathe. You've got this."
Mike's words are soft but steady, and for a moment, I feel like I might actually be okay. We talk a little longer, his voice a welcome distraction, but my mind is elsewhere, tangled in nerves and what-ifs. By the time we hang up, my chest feels lighter, but the weight of what's coming still presses against me.
