Out Of The Comfort Zone

Chapter 7

"Thanks again!" I said as I hopped out of Keegan's Wrangler, with a panting Naomi by my side. Freshly groomed may I add.

"Not a problem," he said as I closed the door and made my way up my home's porch. "Oh and Alex?"

"Mhm?" I asked whipping my head around to face him, with the passenger side window rolled down. He narrowed his eyes and knitted his eyebrows as if he was debating on what to say next. What he said didn't surprise me, just made me frustrated.

"You shouldn't hurt yourself." And with that he sped off into the night. I stood there my jaw slightly unhinged with my front door wide open. Was that real? Did he really just say that? I eventually came to me senses. Jaw clenched, I made my way into the house throwing my bag down on the foyer out of anger.

Unfortunately, I couldn't make to big of a production by slamming the door. I'd scare Naomi. She was a German Shepard rescue, and whenever the father to her old so called "family" would come home at night, he'd be drunk and slam the door behind him. That was how she knew he was home. Then he'd beat her. She was eventually on the streets somehow, and was brought into the shelter. My mom saw her, fell in love, and brought her home. It took a while of course, maybe around four weeks. But it was worth it. Thus, why I can't slam doors.

I belly flopped onto my bed, Naomi right by my side. Why the hell would he mention that? I thought he'd forgotten about it! Everything had been going fine. After a two hour dance session, I told him I'd needed to pick up my dog, so he had to drop me back home. He offered to drive me there and back. Naomi surprisingly loved him which was rare. She was usually iffy around men. But, I'm not complaining.

So he didn't forget about earlier today. But he could have just left the subject alone. My issues are like a 5 year old's scab. It's starting to heal. But it has to be picked at, even if i dont pick at it, someone else has to! So the healing process takes much longer. It's a cycle. And I bet it's going to go on for a really long time.

I looked out my bedroom window to the changing leaves on the trees lining up and down my block, against the burning orange sunset. Upstate New York was especially beautiful during the fall.

Sighing, I got up and walked to the kitchen, Naomi on my tail. (No pun intended). Might as well eat now.

I popped the TV dinner into the microwave and took down three treats for Naomi. She ate them in less than 30 seconds. Once it was done, I set the dinner on the island. The only problem was that I wasn't hungry.

I ran to my room and came back to the kitchen with my memory box in hand. I sat on top of the island and dumped it out next to me. I picked up each thing one by one, placing them next to the shoebox when I was done. My kindergarten picture from picture day. My curly hair was all choppy and each piece was a different length from the other. I'd decided to give myself a haircut the night before. When I saw I didn't like how it had turned out, I ran to my mom, pieces of hair from the floor in one hand, tape in the other. That was the first time I'd realized not everything can be fixed. And that hair takes a while to grow back.

A bunch of pictures of me and various other girls from different birthday parties, and useless selfies. They looked like I was between third and sixth grade in all of these photos. I was...different then. Attitude wise. And my personality.

One picture was of me and my older sister. I was 11. She was 14. We had our backs against each other, facing the camera. Our hands were put in the shapes of guns, Charlie's Angels style, smiles on our faces. We looked so happy. I felt every part of my body tense up under pure frustration.

Enough of that. With anger running through my body, I stiffly put every single picture, plane ticket, friendship bracelet, back into the shoebox. I don't even know why I opened it. I didn't need to be thinking about her. Not at all.

I put the box back under my bed, forgetting about eating. I threw, the dinner in the trash, scolding myself for wasting. I just wasn't in the mood. I decided to take a shower, to maybe help me take my mind off things. I started blasting Mayday Parade from my phone. I placed it on the bathroom sink, close enough so I could hear. I hoped in, smiling when the ice cold water hit my back, just how I liked it. Instinctively, my fingers ran over my forearm. I sighed, feeling the slightly bumpy, vertical scars. An everyday reminder. I did this all the time, as if any minute, they'd just magically disappear. But deep down, I knew that wasn't happening anytime soon. Or ever.

•••

I changed into my neon green pajama pants and a black tank top. Tying my hair up into a ponytail, I walked down the hallway, trying to go down the stairs to the kitchen for a banana. I stopped in my tracks, when I passed Rachel's bedroom door. I ran to my mom's study, rummaging through her desk drawers until I found what I was looking for. I ran back to my sister's bedroom, staring straight ahead at the white door. Gripping the key tighter in my fist, I sucked in a deep breath and finally unlocked the door.

I don't know what I was expecting. I haven't been in here for a few months, but everything looked the same. The mahogany walks, wood floor, white drapes. I sat down on the full size bed, careful not to wrinkle, or mess up in anyway, the white comforter. I stared at all the pillows, perfectly arranged. Perfect, just like her. I walked over to her desk and pulled out a notebook and pen from her drawer. I wrote down today's date and began.

Dear Rachel,

Hi. How have you been? I'm ok...I guess. Sorry I haven't written to you in a while. I've been busy. I've been thinking a lot. About you. About Dad. I haven't spoken to him in a long time though. Mostly thinking about you though. How can I not? Your date is coming up soon. You probably already know that though. Right? Mom's throwing a big ceremony for you. I don't think I'm going though. What do you want me to do for it? I know it's not much to celebrate for. And you wouldn't of wanted me to mope around all day. Since we're on this topic, why did you leave us? Leave me? I miss you. Mom too. You left too soon. I love you. So much. Until next time, Stink-Bug-

Alex Williams (your best friend) xoxo

I ripped the paper out. I put away the notebook and pen, right back where I always find them. I read over the paper one last time before I fold it in half, and slide if under her mattress, along with the hundred other letters I've written to my sister. I grabbed the key, locked the door and return it back to its original spot. I walked to the kitchen, tears streaming down my face and grab my banana, joining Naomi in the living room.

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I uploaded just in time to make it for one week! Extremely happy!

I was listening to the Mayday Parade pandora station, so sorry if this chapter is a little...sad? I don't know, that station hits a soft spot in me (.^^.)

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Music, dogs, and gummy worms!! <3