Even After Forever | ✔

3. I'm Creating My Own Map

"She always had that about her, that look of otherness, of eyes that see things much to far, and of thoughts that wander off the edge of the world." ~ Joanne Harris

Chapter 3. I'm Creating My Own Map

•Sawyer P.O.V•

Re-al-i-ty ( Reality ) n, pl. realities The fact or state of being real or genuine; an actual situation or real event; something that is neither dependent nor derivative but exists necessarily.

That's only the dictionary's definition, now I'll tell you mine, and we'll see who wins, alright?

I believe that reality is unmerciful, ruthless, and dare I say, inhuman. It literally breaks some humans will to live; its a killer. Most think that its better to be with it, to realise that this is reality. Reality breaks people, and it doesn't stop there; it makes people watch everything collapse around them and they cant do a single thing to stop it.

Reality destroys peoples lives? Why though? I think that's what it was designed to do, show people that they have to grow up and stop with their whining and frights. But some cant stop, some are terrified of reality. I am, I'm horrified to see what reality wants to do with me.

We cant all have perfect lives, nobody can. They can try, but they'll never succeed since its impossible.

I let out an irritated sigh, placing the empty plates from the table Chance and his family was once sitting at. I retrace my steps to the booth again, collecting the rest of the dishes and garbage. I narrow my eyes, uncertain if their playing tricks on me or not, with a shaky breath I reach over and grab it.

My eyes weren't playing tricks on me, I hold the napkin gently in my hands, and read what was scribbled on to it. Sawyer, this is my number, I realised it was unacceptable for my FRIEND to not have it - Chance. And underneath his writing was the digits, I roll my eyes but non the less, fold the napkin and put it in my pocket.

I bring the rest of the stuff to the back of the diner; where the kitchen was. Walking towards Frankie who was cleaning off the counters I ask him, "How much for the k-kids dinner?" I question, sliding my hand in my back pocket for my army wallet. You may wonder why I didn't stutter as much; I usually only stutter when I'm nervous, scared or shy. I can speak properly most of the time.

Frankie sends me a weird look, "Sawyer, that was paid for." He says with a small smile. Throwing the dish cloth that he was using into the full sink. I feel bad for whoever has to wash all the dishes.

I stand here, completely astounded, "W-wait, what?" I sputter out, tugging at some curls that had fallen into my face. I glance back at the booth to see Britain and Meryl were packing their stuff up.

Frankie chuckles, "Whats more to say? The dinner was paid for. Now go take those wonderful kids, I'll see you tomorrow." He places his hands gently on my shoulders; shoving me a little, trying to get his point across about me leaving.

I stifle a grin and walk back to the kids while wondering, Who would pay? There was only one other family in here, but it was Chance's family. Could it be them? I shake my head and leave the diner.

I slide into the drivers seat of the Honda, Britain moves to the back, walking over to help Meryl in her booster seat. I smile at the two, I watch Britain slam the door and walk over to the passenger side, sliding in as well.

•~•~•~•~•

Dear you,

    I've always thought that writing down my thoughts was stupid, but I realised that it helps me make sense of what I'm thinking.