Chapter Four

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OMG I AM SO SORRY GUYS, I WILL ADMIT IT IS MY FAULT I HAVEN'T UPLOADED FOR A WHILE BUT I HAVE FELT DISCOURAGED SO BARE WITH ME. I'M GOING TO BE HONEST I DON'T KNOW WHEN I MIGHT UPLOAD A CHAP AFTER THIS, BUT I WILL FOR SURE.

AND I REALLY AM SORRY.

I COULD JUST IMAGINE HOW YOU GUYS FEEL.

*SIGHS*

SORRY AGAIN

RECAP

"Yeah a new life please" I mumbled to myself.

"What was that"he asked

"Nothing dad, nothing at all" I replied.

"Alright then, ill be on my way then and so shall you" he said sternly.

After I heard my dad Corolla pull out of the driveway, I emerged from the bathroom, a soggy, wrinkled mess of a girl. I trudged into my bedroom and threw on my work T and my ripped shorts, putting my curly hair into a messy ponytail. I hurried made my way down the stairs and into the kitchen, grabbing a granola bar, picked up my keys and ran to my car.

Chapter Four

 The smell of rain approaching lurked in the air, and the wind had become harsh, abruptly swatting strands of my hair across my face. The iridescent sun buried itself behind grey clouds, casting a dark shadow over the town. It was going to rain, I could feel it, and as if on cue, a light drizzle began, greeting the ends of my hair and tickling the tips of my long lashes—soon mounting into huge downpour. 

 The rain cascaded down in torrents, drenching my hair, sweater and sneakers. I moved faster, pulling up my hood to shelter me. Striped lightning meandered, like the signal of a camera's flashlight. Ear-splitting thunder rumbled like the pounding of huge drums and nudged the ground beneath my feet.

 I was already sprinting; racing past bigger stores, tightening the strings on my hood, away from the fiend I called rainwater.  My dad's store—I could see it now. I ran faster, not caring if I splashed into enough puddles to ruin my outfit, or about the people I rudely collided. I made it. My sweater tight and soaked, backpack hooked, and keys in hand. But once I went to unlock the door, I saw it had been left ajar....

"Hello?" I called, "Dad?" I called again, closing the door and assuming it was my father who had opened it.

I flipped the switch and filled the small room with a dim light. I guess he just popped out to get stock. With a shrug, I took off my bag and shoved it behind the counter. 

I shrugged off my damp sweater and swapped it for a dry one nearby —that was probably my dad's, he always left some lying around.  I flattened my palms on the counter, fully aware that I was alone in the store, and was completely troubled by the storm outside.  

The storm.

A sense of unease surrounded me while I listened to it. I really hated storms. Storms here were always the worst. I took in a sharp breath, resolute to calming myself, and headed for the storage room. Thunder boomed and I jolted, noticing how the lights flickered. With a gulp, I tried overlooking it and started fumbling with a few boxes in the back of the room...

"Aida?"

I gasped, spilling the tools onto the floor. That was embarrassing. I turned around slowly, reluctant to meet his gaze, "What are you doing here?" I asked, avoiding his eyes and on the box in his arms.

"I work here, remember?" he said, raising a brow, his face shaded by the half darkness in the room.

"Oh, but I called—no one answered,"

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