Chapter Four

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To say dinner was awkward, would be an understatement. Words like unbearable, crazy, miserable, I'd-rather-poke-my-eyes-out-than-endure-another-one, just begin to scratch the surface of what it was.

When Jace and I entered the house, Jaylin, Beatrice, and Robert were all seated at the table. All of them had plates, but the food stayed untouched, by Beatrice and Robert anyway. Jaylin had already served up and was eating. Beatrice didn't seem to like that little fact. Her once happy, smiley face was now in a scowl aimed at her daughter. Robert was shaking his head at the duo, running a tan hand through what was left of his black-grey hair.

Clearing his throat, Jace
had taken a seat on the opposite side of Jaylin, and I followed.

The moment my butt had touched the seat, Jaylin's head snapped up, a look of disgust already sketched on her face. She gave me a once over, raised one eyebrow, and asked the question that would set the mood for the night. "What are you doing here?" The question would've been innocent enough if it wasn't for the facial expression that went with it or the snarky comment that followed. "We don't allow all homeless weirdo's inside, you know."

The room had gone silent at that. Robert and Beautiful's jaws had dropped and Jace had winced as if the statement had slapped him across the face.

I, on the other hand, stayed mutual. I'd been called worse in my time as a foster kid.

Plus, her statement was a fact: I was homeless, and weird is basically my middle name. No reason getting mad over the truth, right?

No.

Not in the world of Beatrice and Robert anyway.

After they'd picked their jaws up from the floor, the yelling began. One parent screaming about respect, the other about punishment.

It got so crazy so fast, that I feared I would faint, or worse: blackout.

I was so not ready for that. One girl can only handle so many body mishaps. So in the middle of screams and curses, I quietly got up from the chair and headed to my room.

There, I plucked a plain white pillow, and blanket from my bed and curled myself into a little ball on the window seat.

Now, I watch the few cars that make it to the neighborhood driving up and down the little road. Occasionally, I see a person walking their dog, or just your average ordinary person walking. Doing the times that nothing is happening, my eyes always find themselves at the yellow house in front of me. The guys obviously aren't outside, though it's only six o'clock and it's August meaning daylight will last another couple of hours, that doesn't stop my eyes from searching. Eventually, I get tired of fighting my eyes for the right to stay awake and doze off. The last thing I remember hearing is the loud and unmistakable sound of a motorcycle being turned on, and a faceless shadow riding away.

—August 21st, 2017—

Within what feels like a couple of hours, I wake up to the sound of ducks quacking sweetly beside me. Opening my eyes slowly, my eyes adjust to the bright day as the sun streams through the blinds and into my room.

I sigh quietly with content, and just lazily seat on my bed for a minute.

Today is going to be a good day. I convince myself like I always do on days without the nightmare.

Jacqueline || BWWMWhere stories live. Discover now