Will you remember me?

Chapter 2 POV: Linda Santiago

All I have to tell those people who claim sleeping pills work is this: Thanks for offering, but I can manage without them.

I've got problems to worry about, things to think of. That's what I do almost all the time when I'm alone. That was exactly what I was doing. Sounds depressing? Well, it truly is. There's really nothing I can do about it, and I've started to come to terms with it, and accepting that has made me go with the flow.

Who would listen to me? I wondered. A single tear rolled down from my cheek and onto the puddle on my pillow. My nostrils were clogged and it was becoming slightly hard to breathe. 

I glanced out of my window; There isn't much scenery – just a few oil trees shedding their leaves one by one.

Spring must be coming soon this year.

The sound of footsteps nearing my room as they climbed up startled me. I quickly turned the pillow to the other side and wiped away the tears on my cheeks. I faced the other side, away from the door and pretended to be asleep.

"Why are you sleeping now in the middle of the day?" A rough, masculine voice asked. "Get up and think about where you're going to junior high, sleepyhead, you have a decision to make."

I didn't reply. The years of experience have taught me not to reply for the first time; if it's important to them, they'll wake you up, if it's not, they won't be a single bit bothered and just go away. That's what I hoped.

A rough and firm hand seized me by my shoulders and yanked me until I was facing the ceiling.

No point in putting up an act anymore, if I were truly asleep, I'd be awake by this.

I reluctantly opened my eyes, tightly squinting to pretend to avoid the afternoon glare from the windows. Amidst all the blinking and squinting, I saw the look on my dad's unshaved face. He wore a critical, glaring look on his face which provoked me to ask what was going on.

"You need to decide which high school you're gonna be going to." He repeated, the irritation noticeable in his tone.

"I-I'll do it," I assured him in my croaky voice, hoping he'd leave.

"Have you been crying again?" He demanded.

"Wha- no!" I replied. "What makes you think that? I have not been crying. It's probably due to sleep."

For two long seconds, he narrowed his brows and searched my eyes, as if trying to uncover something. The trick here was not to break eye contact and stare back right in the eye. DO NOT fiddle with anything nor move your body.

Finally, he exhaled sharply and leaned close to me. The rotten smell of alcohol in his breath got my stomach to do circles. "Listen here, the next time you try to attempt to do anything like that time, you will repent. You got that? There's no point trying to go back to how we were before."

I silently nodded without flinching. After he left, I collapsed back on my bed and stared at the ceiling. I wish he'd let me go.

A tiny thought crept into the back of my mind which promised me freedom. Finding new motivation, I got up and lifted the flap of my computer.

Let's see... I fired up a web browser and typed in my input. Soon, there were hundreds of high school results. I wished there was a filter to sort by the farthest distance.

I filtered out the many options and after about ten minutes of rigorous comparing and elimination, I was down to four options.

What do I really want? I thought, seeking to get my options narrowed down to a single institution. Thinking like this actually made it easier to choose from; What I wanted was peace, a place away from home with people who I can connect with on a deeper level. Only one of the options stood out the most, and promised a true, new beginning. 

The name of the institution was Birchwood Academy. Honestly speaking, I'd never heard about it at all, but that just made it a better option. It was on the outskirts of the city with a healthy share of the city and wilderness. The most attractive feature of the institution was the boarding option, which meant that I didn't have to deal with my dad anymore. I set down my computer in front of me and gave a deep glance at the institution. This is exactly what I was looking for.

"Dad?"

"Come down here," He called out.

I descended the stairs and then I found my dad laying on the couch with bottles of finished beer scattered around. A football match was playing on the TV but he wasn't paying any attention to it.

"What is it?" He groaned, still laying on the couch in the same position I found him in.

"I've decided," I replied. "I've picked the academy."

"Great." He replied. He wasn't enthusiastic about it at all. "Are you waiting for something here?"

Even if he didn't ask me to, I was going to anyway. I climbed up the stairs and returned  to my room. I retrieved a calendar that was hung on the wall and circled on August 14th. About two weeks left. I felt a warm sensation filling my chest as if new hope was setting in.

You wouldn't have to worry about me anymore, mom.