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That was before . . . but I can be that strong girl again.
The hard times don’t kill us. They teach us how to adapt. How to grow thick skin. How to become resilient. And even now, after all these years of wanting for nothing, the feeling of asking for help is still hard.
I shake my head.
No.
Every once in a while, you have to table your emotions and lay yourself bare.
I can ask for help. It’s not the end of the world. It won’t undermine my growth as a person. I allowed Ronald to help me. I didn’t ask for help, but he gave it.
My stomach drops. He always helped me, yet it seems he only caused his own family pain.
Reconciling the man I knew from Trent’s father is hard enough but doing it while standing in a house cloaked in darkness due to his son is impossible.
I continue to search the house for anything I can use. With my phone’s flashlight, I go from room to room. Nothing. Not a damn thing.
Garbage can: Gone.
Toilet paper: Gone.
Hell, even the light cans in the ceiling are stripped of the bulbs.
Gotta hand it to the jerk. He left nothing. Even the bag of recyclables I left by the back door is gone.
On the off-chance I managed to convince the electric company to turn the lights back on the bastard stole the light bulbs like he was the Grinch.
He was thorough. A complete ass, too. Can’t forget that part.
There should be a rule that jerks come with a warning label on their forehead. That way, people know to stay clear of them. It should be mandatory the same way it is with food labels.
Someone with a peanut allergy knows not to eat a Snickers bar.
The outside should match the inside. However, I know that is not to be the case. My sister is the perfect example of this. It isn’t fair for the façade to hide the truth.
Someone should come up with a device to remedy this. Like beer goggles but for character.
I shake my head at my ridiculous thought. There are bigger problems right now than this dumb invention.
Like which floor I should sleep on.
In the bedroom? Living room? Definitely not on the kitchen tiles or the bathroom floors.
It’s still warm out for the next few hours. With the central air off, the heat will rise to the bedroom.
Downstairs it is. Lucky me.
Tomorrow I’ll ask for help. But tonight, I’ll suck it up on the floor.
I explore the place for the coolest room, crossing into the family room.
I sit so my back leans against the wall and close my eyes. There is no way I can stay like this. I’ll never fall asleep. I have no pillow.
Nothing to sleep on.
I look down at the sweatshirt that I’m still wearing from school. It’s way too hot to be wearing it, but it gets so cold in class. And by the time I knock out, the temperature will drop, then I’ll need a triple layer.
But for now, I succumb to the fluff and decide to use it as a pillow.
