𝐄𝐔𝐏𝐇𝐎𝐑𝐈𝐀 | strawberriextrio

Chapter Ten | The Past...

Emma's POV:

I jerk awake from a nightmare. It's finally over. It's okay now. Tiny raindrops cling to the windows of my bedroom.

The windows are condensed and fogged up from the cold air outside. I smile, staring at my own reflection. I realised how much I've grown. No longer a little kid. 

I have real things to worry about now. Real problems. I feel melancholic and nostalgic thinking about all those childhood memories. Especially those when my mother was still around. 

I run my fingers along an old photo frame. I was three and a half. We went on a holiday. It was the best holiday of my life. My dad brought me on lots of road trips after that. But it was never the same. 

My mum is smiling in the photo. I don't know whether it was all fake. 

Maybe it was just a plan. 

Maybe she was just acting. 

She was really good at acting if she was faking it. 

Half of the time, I don't understand why she left us. Maybe it was her career. She often told me that if I wasn't born, her career would've really taken off. I don't know. 

I really don't.

I force a smile as I descend down the stairs, to where my dad is cooking breakfast - unusually. 

"morning sweetheart... did you get good sleep?" dad asks, shifting his gaze from the saucepan with eggs popping to me.

"yeah..." I yawn, "I guess alright... just had a bad dream, that's all."

"Mhm... You've been having lots of nightmares recently. You alright?"

"I'm fine."

I slide into my seat and start my breakfast. I eat the eggs first. No one likes them cold. Then I finish my jam toast and go back up to my room to finish writing my narrative for school. 

I am planning to write a romance story about a girl around my age, about her high school life and about her stories... but I can't focus.

My thought wander back to the time when August and I were in the library. I don't even know why I'm thinking about it.

I struggle to ignore the buzzes of incoming messages from Kathy and August and try concentrate on my story. 

'The silhouette moves closer' I start writing but cringe inwardly and erase it.

'I trip and face plant' no... sounds... like me.

'This is the story of a girl who...' I start, it sounds pretty right so I go with the flow and continue writing.

It has been quite a while since I was writing, and the clock in my room reads ten past ten in the morning. I began writing at 9:40, so it has been 30 minutes since I started. I don't want to stop, but the calls and new texts most likely from Kathy and August are becoming too much to ignore. 

I give in and check my social media account to take a break when- 

WHAT IN THE WORLD?!