❝In which two people call up a helpline in order to find someone just as broken as they are. ❞
"Does...does it bother you that my dad's in prison for murder?"
"Well, judging by the fact that I moved away from America to get away from the memory of a...
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"You okay?"
"Yeah...yeah. I...I'm just going to get some air."
"You sure you're okay?"
"Yeah, I...I've just got to take this phone call."
"Do you want me to come with you?"
"No...no. It's okay. I'll be back in a minute."
"Alright then. But you owe me another dance when you come back."
She offered him a shaky smile, hoping that he wouldn't be able to see past the happiness on her face, hoping with all of her heart that he couldn't see the fear in her eyes as she pressed the receive button on her phone. And, as she continued to walk out of the house and into the back garden, she couldn't seem to stop her hands from shaking. Her entire being was on edge, tense and taught as she prepared herself for what could have been a surprise attack. Almost as if she was expecting some sort of strike. And she was, really. She had been putting this off for far longer than she should have done. Because it had terrified her. Looking back on the past had always seemed one step closer to walking back into it. But refusing to look back was lying to herself. Not looking back on these things simply meant that there was no way to move forward. It was like continuously creating a new starting line, forgetting that half the race had already been run. Pointless. Exhausting. And downright stupid. There came a time when it was okay to face up to the scary things.
