Recalling Reality

Chapter 1

The sun shines through the window and sits in my lap. My eye lids are getting heavy, but I don't want to sleep. Not yet. Being up at four in the morning isn't my thing, but to catch the flight, I had to do the early wake-up. And being back home, there isn't going to be any way I can lie down and fall asleep. Not with how my family is.

"It's a half-hour ride home. Why not close your eyes for a little bit?" Mom sighs, her hands gripping the wheel of the fancy four door Chrysler while checking over her shoulder to change lanes.

Close my eyes? I haven't been back here in over two years. The city is growing, and I need to make sure all my good places are still standing. What is the sense of being home if my goodies aren't there anymore?

"I'm good." Am I good? I'm not, but I have to be.

My mom is strength. She stands through all the storms that ever come her way, and to show her I am an emotional wreck inside will only bring on the lectures and the talks that I don't need to go through right now. I know her lectures are just to help me out, but, sometimes, they throw me down to the ground and stomp on me. And, right now, I am doing plenty of that to myself. I don't need the extra foot grinding me in the dirt.

"Are you hungry? I am sure you didn't get much time to grab something to eat during your layover."

"I'm not hungry." How could I be when I have nothing left of my life? Not. A. Damn. Thing.

I will be able to move past it someday, but, as for now, there is nothing that anyone can say or do to make me get over the pain I've been carrying around for the last year. Pain that I don't want to talk about. Pain that I don't want to think about. Pain that I just can't get over.

"If you do decide to stop somewhere, just let me know. I will stop."

"I thought you had to work, and Robert was picking me up."

Robert is nice. Don't get me wrong. I do like the guy, and he is super supportive, but I just feel that I'm not up to his standards with everyone else in our families. I didn't attend college, and went into the military right away after high school. It was four years, but at least I went, right? Except, just like everything else in my life, I didn't finish.

"I managed to finagle a couple hours away from the office. You can just drop me off at the door and I can call Robert for a ride home. I'm sure you want to get some sleep before dinner." She whips in and out of traffic, owning the road as usual. I never did scare easy in the vehicle, and she did teach me how to drive, but let's just say, our driving techniques are more advanced than everyone else.

"I'm good." Resting back into the cushion of the seat, I look out at the city streets flying by the window. No doubt the speed limit is only thirty, thirty-five at the most. Mom is clipping along at forty, damn near pushing forty-five. Lead foot. That is exactly where I get mine from. My mom.

That's the only thing I inherited from her. As for the smarts, the looks, the charm, and the strength, I missed that boat by five-hundred-thousand miles. Mom and my two brothers are all blondes with blue eyes. Gun metal, to be exact. Me. Not so much. Dark mass of curls, and brown eyes.

Though, we all average around the same height. So, maybe I got lucky in that department. I am five-seven. My brothers, on the other hand, complain that they didn't inherit the tall genes. I'm not sure why they complain, though. One was already married with three boys and the other was getting married in just a few weeks.

"You seem awfully quiet." She finds the brake pedal as the light changes from yellow to red. "Damn it. I could have made that."

And I am surprised that she didn't just go on through. It was yellow by the time she approached the crosswalk. Stale yellow, but still yellow. A little smile forces its way to my face. Yeah. I inherited her driving skills. There is no way to get around that.