❝black out days,
i don't recognize you anymore❞
── in which marisol miller accompanies her brother in law joel and a strange girl on a harsh and perilous journey to reach her [ex] husband tommy, in hopes of repairing their fractured and strained re...
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AUSTIN, TEXAS 2003.
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'AND IF A DOUBLE DECKER BUS, CRASHES INTO US, TO DIE BY YOUR SIDE, IS SUCH A HEAVENLY WAY TO DIE'
played from the ipod clutched in Marisol's hand as she sauntered down the surprisingly desolate streets. It was nearly nine in the morning, a typically busy time as the shops and businesses that decorated the long blocks opened, welcoming an influx of customers and workers. Congested sidewalks where commuters muttered 'excuse me's as they squeezed past each other, exchanging a shove or two, was a common occurrence. It was one of the reasons Tommy disliked Marisol working downtown as he regularly voiced his worry over her becoming collateral damage in the overcrowded streets, and the possibility of someone pushing her too hard, especially in her current condition.
Though it appeared the chances of her obtaining minor injuries on her walk to the bakery were slim to none as she passed by the few people with ease. The avenues almost eerily devoid. A sight that would raise concern for some, but Marisol had been so entranced by the music her earbuds emitted, she paid it no mind.
The Miller woman hummed along to the tune as she reached the bakery. She extended out a hand and tugged on the door handle only to find it locked as the blinds swayed slightly. A vexed sigh along with a few curses left her lips as she rustled through her purse for the keys. Already mapping out in her head the dispute she would inevitably have with Samantha over her inability to show up to work on time and open shop. Though Marisol quickly pushed the argumentative thoughts aside as her fingers grazed over the keys at the bottom of her bag, quickly retrieving them and unlocking the door. The bell above the entrance dinged as she stepped inside.
Marisol let out a frustrated huff as her eyes scanned the disorganized and cluttered area. A mess Samantha swore she would clean up before leaving the night before. Marisol discarded her purse on a nearby counter as she retrieved the scrunchy she had tied around her wrist, pulling her hair into a updo as she set out to tidy up the bakery herself.
While a small, petty part of herself thought of leaving the shop as is for Sam to clean like she promised she would. It had only been a month since her sister reentered her life and she had been walking on eggshells around her, afraid the wrong actions or words would scare her off.
The last time Marisol saw the girl was the day she left home, Sam was only six yet fully understood the weight and reality of their dysfunctional home life. She clung to a then fifteen-year-old Marisol. Blubbering cries left her quivering lips as she begged her older sister to stay. Marisol had looked into her dark, tear lined eyes and promised she would come back for her. It was a promise Marisol intended on keeping, and once she finally reached stability years later, she returned home, but her sister was nowhere to be found.
