Dangerous Love

Chapter 1

I made my way into 'Jimmy's', which is a coffee shop just around the corner from my house. I liked to hang around here because it's something I've done daily from when I was little.

My Dad left my Mum and I when I was a little girl. It all seemed a bit bizarre really. I didn't really notice anything strange between them going on. We seemed like quite a happy family to me. I was probably just oblivious. Either that or my parents were good at hiding their feelings.

Everything was fine and then suddenly Dad was gone. I still saw him every other weekend, and he seemed rather content with his new life. You see, he cheated on my Mum with a lady who had bigger boobs than the size of a watermelon. You may think that's an exaggeration, but I'd disagree.

My parents went through their divorce and I saw my Dad less and less. That was when I was around 6, 17 years ago now. I'm 23 and I see my Dad hardly at all. The last time I saw him was when he came to my 16th Birthday party. What a shamble that was, eh?!

I won't go deep into the story, because I don't want to bore you, but the basics are that everything was going well, I had Mum and Nan around, and a few of the neighbours. I wasn't one to make a fuss over a Birthday, however I guess my Mum wanted me to feel special. Everything was going ok until my Dad walked in; he had brought his wife with him and she wasn't welcome in our home. An argument set off and well, you can probably guess the rest.

I didn't really have friends, and I don't really now. I wasn't the kind of girl who would spend all of her time bitching about people and making out with one boy this day and another boy the next. I preferred to spend my time with my Mum. She was my rock.

We'd spend our days making scrapbooks of random things, finishing off photo albums, having picnics in the garden and riding our bikes whilst on day trips.

Sadly she died in a car crash. It was a hit and run and she was killed straight away at the scene. They took her to the hospital but there was nothing that could be done to save her. That was when I was 19 and it's coming up to the 4 year anniversary.

Wait a second, I'm being very morbid. Please excuse me, I said this was going to be a happy story! Despite all of that, I am still going strong.

''Hello Emelia, what can I get you, pet?'' The man himself, Jim asked me.

''I'll have a hot chocolate please mate.''

''With the whipped cream and marshmallows?''

''Always.'' I winked, he knew my usual.

He started to prepare my hot chocolate whilst we caught up.

''Got any plans for today?'' He asked, pouring the boiling water into the mug.

''I was just going to relax, I'm feeling rather tired. The illness is getting to me today, sadly,'' I sighed, the illness had sort of grown with me, we were like siblings, always quarrelling. ''I must have done something to upset it because it doesn't like me today.''

Jim cussed and rolled his eyes, he hated the illness as much as I did.

''What about you?''

''Me?'' He questioned.

''Are you up to much today?''

''Oh right, I'd lose my head if it wasn't screwed on! Just running this place and then I might go down the pub later. Care to join me if you're feeling better?''

''It would be a pleasure. I'll stop by here later if I'm up for it.''

''Good to hear,'' he said, passing me my hot chocolate. ''Sorry to report but, it looks as if someone has taken your usual space.'' He shook his head in the direction of the table I always sit at, the table my Mum picked.

A lady was sat there wearing a black 'Homies' hoodie, with the hood up and her head down, reading what looked like 'Bridget Jones'. She was on her own and was quiet. I looked around the shop, trying to find somewhere else to sit, however the shop was pretty packed and there was nowhere else for me to sit down. I desperately looked back at Jim and pleaded for him to help me. I wasn't very good with people so I didn't know what to say.

Of course I wasn't going to ask her to move. I'm not that mean! ''Would, um, would it, would it be ok if I sat here too?'' I spoke as quietly as a mouse, stuttering slightly. Her eyes didn't rise from the book and I figured she hadn't heard me. I took a deep breath, put my bag down on the floor and asked the same thing again.

She looked up from her book and smiled gently at me. ''Oh I'm sorry, I didn't hear you, uh, yeah sure, go ahead.'' She replied, before burying her head into her book once again.

I recognised her. Just a little bit. I don't know where from. But it didn't matter right now. I sat down and put my hot chocolate on the table. I bent down to my bag and brought out my diary. I looked up and raised my eyebrows at Jim, giving him my 'What do I do?!' look; he was used to that one.

He just chuckled silently and returned to washing up the plates and cups of satisfied customers. Thanks Jim, thanks.

I took the pen from inside my diary and started to write. It's something I did everyday in the same booth of the same café. I wrote to my Mum.

Dear Mum,

How are you? Good I hope. I am feeling a little down today, I guess it's getting to me. I watched Corrie earlier, I'll admit, it's gone downhill since the days where we used to watch it together. Here I am, sat in good 'old Jimmy's, wishing you could be here with me.

I felt her looking at me. I stopped writing, dropped the pen and closed my diary. I sat up straight and let my eyes wander in her direction. I saw her looking at my diary and myself. ''Can I help you?'' Was all that escaped my mouth. I probably sounded rude but I felt awkward. I was awkward.

''Oh I'm sorry, I probably look like such a nosey cow! I was just interested. Sorry, again.'' She rambled.

''It's ok, I, I just get quite protective over it, that's all.''

''That's understandable, I would too if I kept a diary. I'm sorry.''

''You don't have to keep apologising. There's nothing wrong with being interested.'' I assured her, my eyes drifting around, not specifically wanting to make eye contact.

''What were you writing?'' Was she nosey, interested, just making conversation, or trying to be polite?

''Errrr, just, just a, letter?''

''You don't seem sure. That came out as a question and not a reply.'' She raised her eyebrows at me and I instantly looked away.

''I was, I was writing to my Mum.'' I murmured, my fingers picking at a corner of the café menu.

''Oh, is she out of the country?'' She asked me. Ok, I had come to the conclusion that she was interested.

Here we go.

A/N: Commenting, reading and voting are all things that I love. I promise this isn't a sad story :)