It All Started With a Diary

spatula beating

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"It's not the broken dreams that break us. It's the ones we don't dare to dream." — Will Schuester 'Glee"
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Chapter 4
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"How have I been messing with him?" I muttered for at least the sixteenth time today.

Did I do something wrong? Did I say something wrong? Was there truly any reason for his malice? I couldn't find an answer.

My head was beginning to hurt, again. I needed to get my mind off it, even if it'd only be for a little while.

I pushed open my front door to be met with silence. It wasn't until I got the kitchen that I saw the yellow sticky note attached to the fridge.

Working overtime again. I left some money on the counter so you can go out and buy you some dinner. If you're asleep by the time I get back, then I hope you sleep well. Love you.

Dad.

I should have known. Crumbling the note, I smiled, and grabbed the bill from the counter. I made sure the door was locked, before heading outside.

I hopped into the old, but doable car. Too many  of the wrong memories rushed back once I inhaled the old, dusty scent of the car that left behind the past with it.

A ghost of a smile wandered to my lips as the radio drifted through the car. It was old, but I still could recall the memories attached to it.

When Ryland's mother left him, I remembered when I held him while he cried in his bedroom. This song was the only thing to get him to sleep.

Instead of heading to a restaurant, I went to a grocery store. Groceries would supply for all of us, not only me for this one night.

I groaned over the thought of going into the public eye. Big crowds were a hit or miss when it came to my anxiety. I hated it.

This was where that barely being properly socialized came into form. When my dad got custody, it took me an entire year to be able to go into a big crowd without a panic attack. I was fine to do so now, but it didn't rid me of the chest pains.

My fingers tapped at my sides. "I could just starve, and let dad do the grocery shopping," I muttered before opening the door.

This was things that normal people did without struggle. I needed that. Hiding and cowering away would only increase my worries.

I entered the fairly large grocery store, eyes on the dusty floor tile below me. While I roamed the aisles for what I was been looking for, I kept track of what the total would probably conclude to.

I continued my search through the aisle.  "Where are you noodles?"

My search ceased once I heard a curse from behind me. Yelling followed not even a second later.

I shook my head, muttering, "Just keep walking, Kimberly. It's none of your business."

Another curse hit my ears from the back of the store again, the voice sounding oddly familiar.