It's summer, but the outside is cold at night. I'm getting back on an old habit, leaving the house and walking around the streets when I should be sleeping. I left a note on my pillow since dad checks in on me sometimes, have my phone and keys in my pocket and my hand around the latter, just in case. Yes, the street is well-lit and yes, there are a few cars and people, but you never know. As a woman walking alone in the middle of the night. I shouldn't have to be worried.

I like it out here, though. These walks help me get my thoughts sorted. My thoughts about everything that's going on. Including the notes in my locker I don't talk about that don't really hurt but still annoy me. You're not wanted. You really think your "friends" like you? They're doing this out of pity. Stuff like that. I scoff. They really believe they can tell me things my brain hasn't said before? I know they're lies. I think so, at least.

I shake my head. They are lies. I know how people act when they don't mean it. When they pretend.

A whistle rips me out of my thoughts, my head spins in the direction it came from, fingers clenched around the keys. "Just a li'l more makeup, and... and you'd actually be hot!"

It's a man – An adult – standing near a small shop at a corner. He's very obviously drunk, his words blurring together slightly. His friend next to him is laughing as the guy grins at me. "Come over here, I can show you what I mean."

No, without the thank you, I think and turn away from him, raising my pace but not running as I turn the next corner. I try to make sure I don't hear anyone behind me over my wildly beating heart, flinching at the sound of my own footsteps.

Just when I was thinking it was actually pretty peaceful. Maybe this wasn't the best idea after all. Fuck it.

After a few streets, I stop and turn around to check. Nobody's there. Good. I allow myself to take a deep breath and calm down, dropping onto a seat of an empty bus station. Asshole. I'm just trying to have a nice fucking walk and think. Well, it's no use getting mad at it.

I lean against the glass and stare at the street, the few cars passing by. My mind was disrupted by that guy, it feels like all the sorting was for nothing and the post-its I've been sticking to the wall in my brain are flying around my head. Fuck.

My thoughts eventually pick up the big red one with Cheeto's parents. Genuinely what is wrong with Dahlia, was wrong with Gregor? Why would people treat their child like that? How did Cheeto not run away before sixteen? And most importantly, what can I do to support the siblings in case she shows up again?

As if my thoughts waited for that sentence, they find the note with what both Jayden and Lewis said about me. It's light green and the part about humanity being fucked up is double underlined with two exclamation marks on the side. As I twist a hoodie strand between my fingers and try to sort the notes, I feel my consciousness and my body slowly separating, practically sinking into the seat.

Don't fall asleep here.

I get up, rubbing over my eyes with my sleeve. I should go back home. Where even am I? I look around and try to identify the place, but no chance. Looks like I went further than planned. But I always have Google Maps, so I guess I'll be good.

~

I close the door as quietly as possible and hang up my jacket before turning around to the hallway. It's still kind of messy, a few boxes here and there, but most of the stuff is where it's supposed to be. As I lay my keys on the counter, I freeze. I didn't even notice dad put that thing there. Before I know it, the frame is in my hand and I'm studying the picture of my mother.

I can't remember her, but I have her hair, straight and brown, and the same hazel eyes, though hers are behind glasses. She's smiling brightly, her chin slightly tilted towards the sky and her long summer dress flowing in the wind, her arms open wide as though offering a hug, showing the dark birthmark that covers her left hand and lower arm. Her face is full of freckles, her clothes all in light yellow or orange.

She left when I was just a child. Exactly one and a half, on the twentieth of April. That's why I never knew her. According to dad, it was sudden. He never really tells me more than that, though. Never told me why or how, just that from one day to the other, she decided to move out and never talk to us again. I don't think he understood it either. When I was younger, I would make up stories about her, thought of a million reasons why she would leave her boyfriend, even her own daughter alone. I drew pictures of her as a secret agent on missions, and others of her being some kind of superhero and having to hide it from everybody. I thought I'd develop her powers, too, one day.

Wishful thinking.

I flinch as I hear a door click and look up to see my father's face peeking out from the kitchen with a smile. "Hey. How was-" He stops as he sees the photo in my hand, and I put it down immediately like a child that was caught doing something they shouldn't.

A few seconds of silence, then: "I put it there just now. I don't know." He laughs nervously and scratches his neck. "Found it in one of the boxes."

I nod and smile back. Why are you up?

Dad shrugs. "I woke up and read your note, so I thought I might as well wait until you're back."

Sorry.

"Oh, no, it's fine. You needed your time outside, and I decided to wait."

I nod again and take off my shoes before walking up to my father to give him a short hug. I'll go to bed now, good night. Thanks for waiting.

"Sleep well."

oh no, even more past lmao

what'd you think? <3

also, the chapter that's next in line isn't finished yet please send help

might be that there'll be a bit longer waits in the future so sorry in advance, i can be a slow writer- i'll do my best, though!