It takes one single moment to define your life.
Cassie learned it the hard way. She's seventeen and felt like she has the world on her shoulders. Trying to survive and keep going despite the sadness and fear, Cassie finds out that opening your hear...
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The leaves scrunched as my feet picked up the pace. It was a sunny Monday morning and unlike most people I'd known, I was relieved that it was Monday and I had to go to school. Anything to get out of my house.
For a change, I wasn't as sad as usual. No. Today I was mad. Scratch that. I was beyond mad. I was furious. I was angry at everything and everyone.
Especially at Marie, Mom, and my father, but mostly at me.
Friday and Saturday had been pretty much uneventful. Therapy had been difficult and sad as Amanda had asked me a lot of questions on my relationship with my mother, friends and such. But I liked her, she was really friendly and understanding. Mostly, she respected when I didn't want to talk more or if I felt like it was too much.
Dad picked me up from her office and surprised me with a few books that he'd gotten for me. It was a nice gesture and I was thankful to have something to do. I always loved to read. One was about a dystopian future love story and the other about this girl with cancer. Obviously, I chose the first one. I did not want to read anything cancer-related and I could tell that this story was going to be sad. I was sad enough as it was, no need to read about it.
I spent all Saturday reading and mostly Sunday. I was so engrossed with the books that I didn't pay attention to Dad at all, making him tease me a few times. Despite it all, I stopped reading when he announced that Marie was coming to dinner. Again.
I couldn't but notice how my father, once again, set the table with the fancy china and cut some flowers (from Mom's garden) to make the dining room more presentable for Mom's friend.
Silently, I peeled the potatoes and the carrots for the chicken Dad was making. He seemed happier and was making small talk as we cooked dinner. Marie arrived at six sharp with peach cobbler and homemade vanilla ice cream.
My heart tightened as I watched her talking with my father while he was mixing the salad. She grabbed his arm once or twice during the conversation and I my stomach plunged every time. They seemed too friendly.
Dinner was awkward and tense for me. They were both chatting as I played with my food observing them. At some point, I couldn't but voice the question that was playing in my head.
"What's going on here?" Dad and Marie shared a knowing look for a moment before Dad left his fork on the table and grabbed Marie's hand.
My breath caught in my throat and the little food I had managed to eat twirled inside of me.
No, no, no, no.
"We wanted to talk to you about it," My father's words got lost as I internally freaked out.
