365 Days

Chapter 2

"W-when wi-will you go?" My lips quivered, scared for his answer. Daniel was and is the only person that ever understood me. He was there when dad died. He was there when mom was sent to the hospital. He was there when Shannon gave up on me, our family, her future. All I actually had left was Daniel.

He'd leave.

He'd leave me.

I'll be alone once again.

He looked at me, those bright eyes of his shining, gleaming at me.

"I already said tomorrow didn't I?" He muttered cooly.

I wanted to scream, to yell, to break something.

"Give me a fucking time!" I yell at him, grabbing Daniel by the shoulders and trying to shake him hard, but of course it had no effect on him.

He cringes slightly. Daniel knew that I had a temper, but never actually grasped the fact that I could snap at any given time.

"Tomorrow morning, five am. Why?" He asked, ruffling my hair playfully a smile tugging on his lips.

Oh you're not gonna get out of this so easily! I thought.

"Good! I'm driving you there," I declare bossily, a smirk on my face and my arms crossed in authority.

He slumped his shoulders in defeat. Raising his hands up in the air, Daniel chuckled.

"Fine! But you don't have a car," he sneered.

Sighing, I glared at him, releasing my hands from his shoulders, I push him down the couch. Strolling around the coffee table, I finally got an idea.

"I can use my aunt's car! Or yours," my eyes landed on the silvery grey Honda outside.

He too glances at his car sitting outside of his house, the sun's bright rays  hitting it. He glanced back at me with a funny look on his face. Daniel huffed and crossed his shoulders. He gave me a frown.

"There's no way you're using my car!" He exclaimed with his hands up.

He might sound like the perfect best friend from afar, but he was a bit too emotionally attached to certain things . . . like his car. And to top it all off! He doesn't trust my driving.

Raising and eyebrow and copying his actions, I smirk. "Why not?"

He gave me a doubtful look, cracking his nuckles as he looked from me, to the outside of his house, his eyes landing on his car.

"Because you can't drive,"

I scoffed at his statement, clearly offended. He chuckled, ruffling up my hair before standing up and walking towards his kitchen. My eyes were locked on him, watching his every move like a predator would do to prey. I wanted so badly to be the last one to see him before he leaves.

He catches my move, a small thin smile creeping up to his lips.

"You're desparate aren't you?" He asked with a hint of amusement. Daniel quickly grabbed a mug, opening his fridge and bringing out some orange juice. He poured some in the cup. Placing the juice back into the fridge and slamming it shut, he glanced at me, slowly sipping his juice.

He had to use my favorite flavour!

"Yes, yes I am."

He walked over to me, placing his big hands on my small shoulders. I looked up at him. No matter how hard I tried he still was insanely taller than me.

"Go use your aunt's car." He murmured in my ear.

Seriously! He loves that damn car way too much!

I gave him a fake smile.

He read it easily. A frown replaced his smile, instantly the mood in the whole room changed from carefree to serious. Gosh! I hated it when he's serious. Cause when he's serious, he meant it.

"I promise I'll be back," he grabbed my hands and held them up, kissing the knuckles. "I never break a promise," he whispered.

I smiled at him. "I know that,"

"Then why are you worried?" He asked me, tilting his head to the side and ruffling my hair.

"Because I know, that even you can't cheat death." My answer was plain and simple, and in his eyes, I saw  shock. Daniel always thought of himself as a man who could do anything. Juggle through countless jobs, taking care of people, fighting for those he loved.

My eyes were locked on his. "So can I just take you to the airport at least?"

He nodded, hugging me so tight it hurt.

"Be here at four, okay?"

I nod, giving him a kiss on the cheek before I strutted over to the door, twisting the knob and getting out of the house. Relief flooded me.

Glancing at the left, then right, I walked over to my house, glancing at my aunt's old bronze car. Sighing, I walk up towards my front porch, staring straight at the door. Opening it, my feet take me back to my room, looking around, I drop my bag on the ground with a loud thud. The black notebook spilled out of the bag, falling on the floor.

God! That thing really has a grudge on me! Popping out everywhere! Why the fuck did I even chose that?

Looking at my wooden table, I bring out a purple sketchpad, opening it as my eyes skimmed the several designs. Dresses, shirts, skirts, pants, shorts, all types of clothing were drawn on, some of them having small patches of frabric being pinned on next to them. I had several of these all hanging out in my room, it was my dream.

Daniel promised me that I'd finish college, so that I could work as a designer . . . I had to give it all up.

Tossing the purple pad on my table, I pick another sketchpad out of the pile. Flipping it open, a smile tugs on my lips.

It was full of colors, sloppily made, but it brought so much memories. There were drawings of castles, princesses, unicorns, anything a little girl would've wanted. I made it when I was four . . . with Shannon.

My fingers touch a beautifully drawn rose, it was the last thing she drew before she left us, left me. We were always an artistic family, drawing came naturally upon us, we both wanted to be desingers, ever since dad died, she was never the same.

Maybe it was the consant times she saw mom crying over dad's trunk full of paints and brushes, or maybe it was the work she had to bear to raise me and pay for mom's medicine when she eventually was sent to the hospital. I don't know what it is. All I do know, was that she gave up on life. Whereever my sister is now, I simply hope she's happy.

Tossing the blue sketchpad on top of the purple one, I sigh. There was only one reason why I kept all of them with me, no matter how big a hassle they are as they continued to flood my room. They were my scrapbooks, my memories. Sometimes, they bring happiness, sometimes sadness, the most evident . . . guilt.

My stomach churned at the thought.

Glancing at the fallen black notebook, I bend down to pick it up. Get yourself together Victoria! Think of something possitive for once!

A smile krept to my face, an idea igniting.

My hands reach out for the nearest pen on my desk, plopping down on my bed, i grab the notebook.

Day 1

My hand writting was still there, sitting neatly as I reread one word and one number over and over again.

I would write a story.

I'd retell my past.

I'd bear with the present.

I'd fulfill the future.

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Yay for super dumb endings * facepalms * need to drink more icetea if I want this to get better.