Thorne

O N E

[copyright AubreyParsons ©2018]

O N E

THE SOUND OF my boots crunching against the snow surrounded me as I crossed the street. I wasn't too worried about watching for cars around me because of the thin sheet of ice covering the roads and the dark sky. Not many people people would be willing to drive in these harsh weather conditions at this time of night.

It was the middle of winter, right when the cold and snow hit their peak at being the most dangerous. I hadn't been outside much this season, besides the walk to and from my bus stop in the evenings or the trip to the grocery store I took every Saturday.

The cold feeling of snow landing on my nose brought me back to the present, sending a shiver down my spine and eliciting a small sneeze. The hood of my jacket coverd my ears along with the dark hair framing my face, but it wasn't enough to leave me satisfiability warm, or to hold back the violent shivers rocking throughout my body.

"Almost there," I muttered to myself, missing the feeling in my fingers and nose as I stared at the familiar street sign two blocks from my home.

Morgan Ave.

It wasn't the most expensive home, or the nicest compared to the neighbooring houses. It was a white, one story building with one bathroom, a combined kitchen and living room, and two bedrooms. It wasn't the best house, but it was enough to get us by until my moms plans played out.

My mother had been in college for two years now, studying hard for a degree in nursing. She spent a lot of time in out-of-state jobs trying to put her skills to good use with free, walk-in clinics for those who couldn't afford an actual hospital bill. Some people would pay her what they could, and it helped us often when we were stuffed in hard spots, but I paid most of the bills. We didn't have the most money in the neighborhood, but it was enough to get us by.

Unfortunately, my mom left sometime last night to Idaho to help a woman with a pancreatic tumor she'd been communicating with recently. The woman couldn't afford medical bills to treat and help prolonged her life, so Mom headed out to help raise money and do what she personally could to help.

My feet came to a halt when I reached my front door. I stood on my toes and skimmed my fingers along the top of the door frame until the familiar piece of freezing metal met my hand. It wasn't long before I'd unlocked it and started my way to my room, flopping noisily onto the bed.

I let out a loud and heavy sigh of exhaustion, hesitating before letting out a loud huff and sitting back up. My dark eyes met my reflection in the vanity mirror across from me, showing off the image of a young girl with caramel skin and dark, frizzy hair.

Hating the thought of being awake for one more second, I quickly pried my eye wide open with one hand and pulled the contact out with the other. I yawned before taking out the remaining one, then shed my heavy clothing in favor of sweat pants and a thick hoodie.

Today happened to be one of those few days I'd come outside this winter, though I would have much rather stayed inside and climbed into bed before three in the morning. Exhaustion tried its hardest to yank my eyes shut after the last two hours spent helping a friend push their car to the nearest gas station, just to figure out that her lack of gas wasn't actually the main problem with her car when it still refused start. Instead, she had a problem with her vacuum holes breaking down. Thankfully, she sent me home to go back to sleep while she called someone else to tow it away.

Despite my 'expertise', I didn't own a vehicle. I only knew what I did about cars because my grandfather was an engineer until he retired a fire years back, and rattled off some of his knowledge and experience whenever I'd come to visit.

I was pulled from my memories as I remembered I needed to shower and remove all of the oil and grease smears from Anna's car. With another groan, I started my way to the bathroom, turning on the faucet and stripping down before climbing in.

The hot water seared my skin and I winced, jumping back to turn the heat down. My eyes drifted to the dark birthmark on the right side of my stomach, just over the top of my hip. It had to be just under the size of my palm, in a splotchy, freckle-filled oval. I hated it with a passion; it was so unflattering and visible.

I shook away the thought of my visible flaw and finished up in the shower, finally glad to tug on a bra and some underwear and climb back into bed, too hot to be wearing sweat pants and a hoodie again after the steam from the shower. Within seconds, my eyes began to droop as a light feeling passed over my body. A soft puff of breath past my lips, and I dozed off into unconsciousness with little effort.

If only I'd known the chain of events that were to follow from forgetting to set my alarm and remind myself to head to the store early. If I knew I would have been too tired to remember, I never would have answered that phone call from Anna.