Laura POV:
The cold air bit my nose as I slid down the mountain. My goggles flew behind me, vanishing into the snow flying around me. My eyes stung as ice fragments filled them. My skis slid around, causing me to loose control of my legs. I find my left ski flying through the air in half. I tumble down, going about 20 feet before I crash into a snow bank. I lay there, hearing nothing but the wind roaring in my ears. I don't hear any skis or snowboards sliding down the mountain. I'm definitely alone. The snow piles up over my fast, absorbing the heat I still have, draining my soul of life. My eyes close for the last time. Everything is dark.
But none of it was real. Once my eyes fly open, everything my mind created is just a memory. I'm on the rug in the middle of my room in a pile of letters, half have been opened and resealed. I look at my watch (used to be my moms, it was from Dan) 3:12 AM. It must be 10:12 in the UK. I don't remember falling asleep. The overhead light is still on. I see the mirror on my wall and notice my skin looks almost translucent and pale. (I have naturally pale skin, but this is a lot more than usual). I have very obvious under eye circles that make me look like I haven't slept in a while. I look out the window of my bedroom. Half of it is covered in bushes (one story house), but one half displays the dark skies. Stars break the total darkness that I see outside. The moon glows gently from behind clouds, giving me a comfortable feeling. I reach for my phone and earbuds. I turn on my playlist of all my favorite songs on shuffle. The first song to come on is 'Dead Man's Arms' by Bishop Briggs. I fight the urge to sing along, remembering its about three in the morning. Instead I quietly work on calligraphy. I flip to the page in my book that I left off on. Uppercase H. I select a emerald green pen and trace the lines, messing up a bit on the second row. Once I finish my page, I re-remember (if thats not a word, it should be) that I should at least try to go back to sleep. I then start thinking about if re-remember is a word, so I look it up.The first result is an anime, so I keep scrolling. I see a link to Urban Dictionary. The definition I read is "When you remember something, then forget, and remember it again later.", which sounds about right for what I was using it for. I then notice the "random word" button, which is impossible to resist. I then spend the next half our reading definitions and making a list of my favorites, which are Shamazow (a happy exclamation), Humanoid, (someone who gets annoyed easily), and Kidcessory (Child had by celebrity for attention).
Michael POV:
I hear quiet movement in Laura's room, so I can assume she finally woke up. I'm in my office room answering emails. A new email pops into my inbox. It's from Dan. The subject is Christmas. I open it.
Hi Michael!
The holiday season is just about here and I have an idea for a christmas present for Laura. I've attached the link below. Let me know if you think she'll like it.
Thanks, Dan
Laura POV: (at school)
Drew wasn't here today again. He's always out at the orthodontist or something, which is rather annoying. Since I have pretty much no other friends, I end up eating with a random group of girls who ignore me and sit on the opposite end of the table.
"Hey Caraway, you free tonight?" A boy yells from across the cafeteria. I don't understand why boys flirt with me on a serious note. They know I always turn them down.
I don't reply.
"Laura!" The same boy calls.
"Theres no need to repeat yourself. I ignored you perfectly fine the first time." I reply. The boys friends laugh.
"Are you free tonight?" The boy asks, sitting down across from me.
"No." I reply, sipping my Izze.
"You got plans?" The boy replies.
"No."
"Damn." He replies, his friends laughing at him again. He gets up and swaggers back to his pals. Another takes his place.
"I don't appreciate you talking to my friend that way." He says, trying to look hot and miserably failing. "We know how your mom was a slut. We also know you're secretly the same way." He whispers. "If you're the same way, I'll warn you that the warning in my dick says 'choking hazard' if you're up for it."
"Funny. That's what they put on small objects." I reply, trying very hard to act unphased.
Some of the girls at the other end of he long table choke on their food. A chorus of laughter erupts in the cafeteria.
=
Again, apologies for the short chapter, I'll be on vacation until Thursday (late at night)
YOU ARE READING
Lost Dad: Dan Smith
أدب الهواة"Hello, Mr. Smith. We're calling about a child you had with..." Theres a pause, "Ashley Caraway." - "Laura, about your Dad... He wants to meet you."
