Forgotten ✓︎

Chapter 1

Megan

"Megan, wake up!" my mom yelled at me from downstairs.

I opened my eyes and blinked hard against the sunlight that was coming in through my window. I looked outside and saw that it looked nice out, so I hoped it would be a good day. I mean, the sun was out, the birds were singing, and I had gotten a good night's rest for once.

I should have known better.

I sighed and went into the bathroom to brush my teeth. I glanced at myself in the mirror and saw that I looked rested for once. I stared at my eyes while brushing my teeth. The familiar green with hints of brown stared back at me, but the usual circles underneath were lighter today.

I finished up with my morning hygiene and went to my closet, grabbing a pair of jeans and a t-shirt, but for some reason, I put the shirt back and grabbed a black tank top. It had about four buttons going down the front and showcased my wide shoulders.

Once I was dressed, I put on mascara and brushed my hair, leaving it down. The black contrasted against my tanned skin and dark hair. My hair looked brown instead of black. I tucked a strand of hair behind my ear, satisfied with my appearance. It would have to do for today.

"Megan," my mom called again.

Sighing, I grabbed my things and went downstairs.

"Breakfast on the table?" I asked her.

"Yes. And Megan, have you seen-"

"Everything's still in the car, Mom," I cut in, knowing she was going to ask about her badge. "You brought in just the lunch bag last night."

My mom was a nurse, and while she was great at her job, she was chaotic as a mother sometimes. She often forgot to breathe, which meant that she tended to rush and forget things because she never thought things through calmly. Honestly, you'd think she drank 10 cups of coffee in the morning at times. Scratch that—she probably did drink 10 cups of coffee every morning

"Thanks honey, you're the best," Mom answered, slightly out of breath.

"No problem, Mom. Let me finish my breakfast and then we can go," I answered grabbing my breakfast.

"Uh, about that, sweetheart," my mom began nervously.

"Yes?"

"I have to leave right now. I got called in to cover the end of someone's shift."

"That's fine. I'll call Anne," I said, smiling. It wasn't unusual for her to get called in at random times.

I finished my breakfast and stood up, leaning against the counter with my juice.

"I already arranged for someone to drop you off at school," my mom answered.

"Daniel?" I asked.

"Your father," she said quietly.

"No!" I shouted immediately. "I told you I didn't want anything to do with him!"

"Megan, listen, please. He wants to talk to you. You're his daughter, whether or not you want it."

"I'd rather not be his daughter," I hissed. "He made it clear he doesn't have any fatherly tendencies for me."

"Daniel speaks to him. Why can't you?" my mom questioned.

"Mom, you and I both know he hates Dad, even more than me. He only talks to him because you tell him to. Neither of us wants anything to do with him," I snapped. "Why can't you respect that?"

"Meg—"

"One night, Mom," I interjected. "I slept well for one night. I think I deserve more peace than that."