Bored as hell
Sophia
I don’t remember ithurting this way when my mom died.
Maybe because I was ten when it happened? A car accident that I didn’t witness.
This?
Being in the house while it went up in flames.
Trying to find their door until the smoke got so thick I couldn’t breathe.
Dad, dragging me out even though I fought to stay.
I just needed a few more seconds.
They would have woken up.
Escaped.
Then Grandma and Grandpa would still be alive.
Fuck.
Over and over I replay that moment.
Screaming. Crying. Clawing at Dad to let me go.
Tugging the pillow over my head, I can’t turn off the memories.
It’s been a week since Christmas, how long will it replay so many times I’m caught in the loop?
I need a distraction.
Where in the hell is my e-reader?
My phone will work.
It’s even easier to fall into fiction now. Sometimes it’s the only way I can finally turn off my brain.
Uncle Dixon was nice enough to let us sleep in his house, but it’s getting more difficult.
I really don’t like that my room butts up against my dad’s. Thelastthing I want to hear is the undertones of what goes on in there.
Scrolling through the endless choices, I can’t decide what to read next.
So I flip over to the group chat for the book club.
RacingQueen: I need a recommendation for something that will grab me fast!
Tara: I just finished a werewolf one that was wild…
RacingQueen: Nah, I read one last week. Maybe contemporary and sweet?
I’m done with werewolves for a little while. That book was so unrealistic I couldn’t get into it.
Or maybe it was because I was struggling to read it Christmas night and now the fire has soured me on any creatures?
