Writer's Block (Complete)

Chapter 7

  New Job

Well it's been a couple of days, since I've stepped foot in the real world. I've slummed around the house, answering text when they were sent, politely letting my friends know that I needed to be alone right now. Is it too much to ask for some alone time. I did let Delilah in when she brought my car to me, saying it had been in the parking lot at the bar long enough. I think she just used it as an excuse to check on me. I guess it is nice to have people that care, but I need time to heal, yet again.

I know I have no choice but to take Alex the box containing the evidence, which is what I'm calling it now, not my clothes or the clothes I wore that terrible night, but the box of evidence. This is another coping technique that my psychiatrist taught me when I called him after laying in bed for hours the day I left Alex's office. He told me how proud he was of me for facing the past and that this too is a part of my journey to healing, Yada, yada, yada, blah, blah blah, I think some of the shit he says is just that, but when he tells me to try something, it usually works so I keep going to him, although now it's via phone or video calling.

I climb in my beetle and set the box on the seat beside me. I'm going to take this box to Alex and finally be rid of it. Then I'm going over to the bar, where I'm going to have a margarita or two and then I'm going to sit on the beach with a pad and a pencil, until something comes to my mind. I need to write, I need to express myself, to play my emotions out in a fictional book and no one will ever know that the girl inside those pages is living my story.

I sit back and think about writing my story but quickly decide that it would be torture for me to relive it every time I see the cover of that book. So, that's out, I think as I back out of the carport, waving at Delilah's mom on my way out of the driveway. I stop my little beetle right outside my driveway, to let the top down. It's a beautiful day and I want to feel the wind in my hair. While the top rolls back, I pull my hair into a messy bun and drive away.

With the smell of sea salt and sand and the wind in my hair, I feel free for the first time in the past ten years. A secret like that weighs a person down. I'm free from the sadness and fear of someone finding out my secret, that I am indeed a liar. The world already knows that I'm a story teller, but a liar is something I've always feared being labeled once everyone found out that I had kept that traumatic experience to myself. I left here on the grounds that I was going to school, but the truth was, I couldn't face Alex or anyone else. I blamed myself, yet I did nothing wrong. It's exhilarating to come out with a secret so big and not have the people you once cared so much about hate you for keeping it.

I'm sitting in front of the police station, looking down at the box that sits on the passenger seat. I debate opening it just to see if the evidence is still in there, but I know it is and frankly I don't want to look at it, so I lift the box and open my car door. I walk inside and am surprised to see a beautiful brunette sitting at the reception desk. She can't be more than seventeen and that's pushing it, I think as I step in front of her desk, waiting for her to look up from her cell phone.

"Can I help you," She asks, with that same sweet southern drawl that everyone else around here has?

"I'm here to see Alex... I mean Sherriff Caldwell," I stumble over my words, unsure of what to call him. The girl rolls her eyes and picks up the receiver, I'm assuming to let him know that I'm here."

"Hey, there's a woman out here looking for you? Well I don't know, hold on."

I look up when Alex's door open. He walks out glancing at me before turning his attention back to the brunette. "Mary jo, didn't I tell you that you need to ask who the person is before calling me?"

"Oh yeah, I forgot," The girl giggles and then smiles up at Alex like he's the most gorgeous man alive. I could tell by watching her that she was way too young, but her crush was definitely old enough to get him into deep shit if she tried anything.