The smell of cookies fills my room as I continue to slave away at my homework. I take a deep breathe in and close my notebook. As I walk to the kitchen, I hear the front door open.
"Honey, do you want a cookie?" a small, sweet voice says.
I hear a 'humph' and hide behind a wall separating the kitchen from the bedrooms.
"Sure. Whatever."
Classic dad. Being a dick 24/7. I hear him hang up his coat in the closet and throw his bag on the counter. I also hear papers getting pushed on the floor from his bag. I dare to peak my head out from behind the wall and see my mom handing my dad a cookie. He takes a bite and makes a weird face. A "that tasted like actual dog crap" face. He throws the rest of the cookie at my mom.
"The bottom is burnt. And you wonder why I don't eat home cooked dinners with you."
He grabs his bag and a piece of paper falls out. He starts walking towards me and I hide behind the wall again. He seems to not notice me when he walks by me to the end of the hallway and into his bedroom. I can hear my mom sigh and I walk out from behind the wall. She starts picking up the papers that fell off the counter.
"Mom I don't know what you see in that ass," I say, pissed at my father's behavior.
"Lulu, it's complicated," she says, looking sadder than humanly possible. I sigh and bend down to help her pick up the papers when I see the paper that fell out of my dad's bag. I unfold it and read it.
Dear Mr. Woods,
I'm sorry that I have to leave a note again. My email still isn't working. I just wanted to tell you that I'm sorry I handed in my paper work late again. I guess you'll just have to punish me again ;) I'm free at noon tomorrow, which is when most people are on a lunch break so they won't hear us. See you soon!
P.S. I'm gonna wear a short dress tomorrow just for you ;)
"Oh my gosh ew!" I say, and my mom looks over at me.
"What?" She replies, and I look at her and smile sheepishly.
"Um, heh, well-"
"Luna what is that in your hand?" She says and I freeze. She hasn't said my real name since she got diagnosed with depression, which was about a year ago. I decide to give the note to her. I didn't want her to be more sad but she deserves to know. She snatches the note from my hand and I cringe, imagining what's going through her head while reading it. Her eyes widen as she reads the note and she then crumples it up and throws it across the room. She then just sits down and cries. I go over to her side to comfort her.
"I'm so sorry mom," I say.
"It's not your fault. I should've suspected." She wipes tears off her cheeks and I sigh. I get off of the floor and resume picking up the papers. I don't want her to cry but sometimes you just need to.
Hope you enjoyed chapter one! Sorry I haven't updated in a while.
