The Runaway

Chapter 2

Chapter 2 

I didn't sleep a wink that night, partly due to the giggling sounds of a woman in the room below me. I could hear the bed squeaking and did not want to think about exactly what they were doing. But I also couldn't sleep due to the fact that I was nervous about going to meet the father who had abandoned me and Mum when I was only three years old. What if he turned me away as soon as I told him who I was? What if he had another family with a wife and a kid. Could there really be room for his estranged daughter?

  I sat up in bed and checked my phone; 2:30am. Damn,  I wasn't going to be getting to sleep anytime soon. With nothing better to do, I pulled my rucksack onto the bed and dug around inside until I found the small photo album I always carried around with me.

 I flipped to the first page, it was a picture of me and a boy. It had been taken three years ago -- back when Mum had been single. The boy and I were smiling with our arms around each other and my head tucked into the crook of his shoulder. I smiled and stroked his face on the picture; Matt, my Matt. 

  He had been my first ever boyfriend. We had met at school during one Monday lunchtime. I had been about to grab the last chocolate chip cookie, when another hand beat me to it. 

  "Hey! No fair I saw it first!" I cried, whirling on the cookie thief. 

  It was a boy, who looked to be a little older than me. His hair was dark blonde and messy and beneath the overlong fringe peaked a pair of dark grey eyes. 

  "How about we split it?" he asked. 

   I blinked. "Really? Are you sure?"

   The boy nodded and broke the cookie in half. He handed me the bigger piece.

   "T..hanks"I said, slightly shocked. 

   "Don't mention it," he smiled. 

  It all started from there, a friendship that over time blossomed into love. We were inseperable, every spare moment we had we spent together. Whether it was doing our homework, collecting groceries from the store for dinner. Or just snuggled on the sofa watching a film why we stuffed our faces with popcorn. I was so happy back then; too happy. I should've known it wouldn't last. 

  I flipped through the rest of the album: pictures of me and Mum, of friends at school. Its funny, in all of the photo's the only one's I was truly smiling in were the one's with Matt. I felt tears escape my eyes and hastily swiped them away; even now it was still so raw and painful.

  Being with Matt was the first time I had been truly happy. I had planned out our whole future; marriage, big house, lots of kids...still being in love when we were 70 and Matt had lost all his hair. It didn't matter how much Matt aged; I would love him no matter what. He was my soul mate in every sense of the word. 

  The tears came faster now, spilling down onto my cheeks, as strangled sobs escaped me. Why? Why did Matt have to die? If was my fault. He had been coming to see me. He had been running late and so was in a hurry. He didn't see the car. The Doctor said he hadn't stood a chance. He'd died on impact. 

         My Matt...

  I took a deep breath. No it'd had been two years now, I couldn't keep grieving. I needed to move forward. I had a long lost Dad to find and now I needed to get some sleep.

  I slipped the photo album back into my rucksack and let the bag slide to the floor. I climbed back under the covers and snuggled down. After a lot of tossing and turning sleep finally pulled me under.