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I sat on my bed, next to a picture of dad and me. The photo was all I had left of him.
“Okay Dad, here goes.” I opened the envelope from tech first and quickly skimmed through. “Wait-listed. Oh well. Guess I’m not really that interested in science and technology, anyway.”
Dad’s alma mater was just up the street. If I were to attend Georgia State, I could keep my job. I already knew the town, so it wouldn’t be another big change.
I took a deep breath before opening the letter. “Dad! They didn’t just accept me.” I could hardly contain the excitement. “They’re giving me a scholarship.” A single tear rolled down my cheek. All the hard work and late nights studying finally made sense.
“You would be so proud of me, dad!” I tried to picture his face.
“I wish you were here.”
A quiet creek came from the hallway. The handle on my door rattled.
The lock didn’t budge.
The handle twisted again. The door caved in as if someone were pushing against it.
“Mom?” I asked quietly.
“Just me. I wanted to get to know you a little better.” The man cleared his throat. Unlock the door so we can talk.” He kept his voice low. The handle jiggled and twisted.
No.
Enough was enough.
My heart rattled in my chest.
No more strange men. No more waiting, wondering, and worrying.
I was tired of the bullshit.
I grabbed my backpack and my photo of dad first.
The man pounded on my door. Where the fuck was my mom? Probably passed out on the couch.
Racing around the room, I threw my letters, my little pouch, and a few of my favorite clothes into my backpack. I packed only the essentials, my make-up, a toothbrush and my phone. Though I’m sure mommy dearest would turn that off at her earliest convenience.
Shoot! My keys are in the kitchen.
“Let me in.” The man muttered against the door like the big bad wolf eager to devoir me.
I grabbed a pen and rushed to get the words from my head to a sheet of scrap paper.
Good luck with the new man in your life. You’re going to need it.
Don’t bother looking for me. I’m eighteen, technically an adult.
I’ll figure shit out on my own.
Like always.
-Meghan Grace
I jumped out my bedroom window and didn’t look back.
Alone, on my park bench, I lit up a joint, took a few puffs and waited for the calm to settle in. Between the weed, the pain, and my broken heart, it didn’t take long for the world to fade away.
“Well, if it isn’t Meghan Grace, the coach’s daughter.” Olivia Parker, the head cheerleader, crossed her arms and jutted her hip.
