Sadness Inside

Chapter 5

CHAPTER FIVE

The whole week was terrifying. Fred was new and he didn't know anybody which gave him an excuse to be with me-which terrified me even more because he had to be close to me. And it defeats the purpose of this whole "no friends" thing.

Summer holidays was finally here and I couldn't wait to just sit in my room and write my songs and read my books. Dad bought me a whole stack of my favourite fiction books last year and I had yet to finish them.

I woke up to a Saturday morning, the first day of the holidays, and had long, cool, refreshing shower. Once I was done, I wrapped my hair with another smaller towel while I walked out to my room nakedly with just my towel on.

But once I opened the door;

"HEY MYR-Oh shit-oh fuck I'm so-sorry-" Fred was turning away after I shouted to be shocked to see him here in my room when I was just covered with my towel.

"What the-Fred why-" there was no point asking him for his visit because he would give me the same bloody answer all the time.

"I'm sorry-I'll just-uh-sorry," and he went out from my room.

I sighed, and quickly put on my sun dress. It was floral and mainly pink flowers. I was hungry so I went down, wanting to make a sandwich for myself. And then I remembered that Fred was there. I rolled my eyes and went to see Fred in the living hall on the couch watching TV with... my dad?! Dad never comes down to watch TV, and especially not in the morning.

"Good morning, uh, darling," he got up and hugged me. Oh lord, it had been ages since I heard him say good morning.

"Good morning, dad," I said, politely.

"We're going out for breakfast," he said, forcing his excitement to show.

"Uh," I forced a smile, "Cool?" I said, coldly.

Fred smiled at me with excitement and we all got in his car. My dad at the passenger seat while Fred drives.

"Don't you have to work, dad?" I said, finally realising it.

He bit his lip, and managed a weak smile, "It can wait."

Fred drove in silence. That was Fred anyway. It'll either be complete silence, or jamming while he drives. He didn't do talks in the car, because he couldn't focus if he did.

He kept straight face on the road and we reached a cafe after awhile. I remember coming here nearly every morning with Mum. We stopped going here after she died. What was Fred doing? He knew the history of this place to me.

"Here we are!" Fred exclaimed.

I just gave him a look and whispered to him when I knew Dad was far enough not to hear me, "Fred. Do you even remember what place is this?!"

"Yeah," he smiled cheekily, "They make your favourite breakfast pancakes," and winked while we walked into the old cafe, still having a great business.

It was true. This place made my favourite pancakes. I walked into the cafe, designed with a wooden feel. It still looked exactly the same. The counter, the short tables with wooden chairs, even the annoying welcome bell at the door. Everything except the colour of this place. It faded over time. I stared at the table which Mum and I used to sit at.

How I missed her. She would understand what I was forced to go through now. She would advice me even knowing my stubbornness. I missed her, even though I didn't really know who she was.

We sat down on another table looking out the window. It was so hot I was sweating in this air conditioned cafe. I ordered my regular, and the boys ordered theirs.