supernova

8

I had to sell the car.

There was no other option, but to sell the car.

I drove in complete silence and the only thing on my mind was that I had to sell the car.

His car.

My dad loved this car. He was so excited when he bought it. I don't know how it survived the crash, but it did.

I don't know what made me angrier.

My having to give this car up, or that the car survived and my dad didn't.

Maybe giving up the car might be a good thing?

No.

Yes.

No.

It doesn't matter because I'm going to have to do it anyways.

The stupid- NO!  The infuriatingly perfect car clouded my thoughts and vision as I drove to work. If it wasn't for my muscle memory when it came to driving to the cafe, I would have been dead by now.

I would have died in the same car my father died in.

Work seemed to last forever. I work four thirty to nine, but it seemed like eighty hours. I had the milkshakes ready at nine and saw Atlas walk in around 9:05.

"Here," he said handing me the money. "Can I also get a large fries?" he asked and I nodded.

"Four dollars and twenty four cents," I said and he pulled it out of his wallet. 

I turned around and gave him his milkshakes and fries.

"Have a good one," I said with half a smile. I finished cleaning and head out to my car and just sat there.

My mom's dying and she didn't even tell me.

If I knew she was dying, I would've immediately taken more shifts and done everything to spend more time with her.

I'm gonna have no family left.  I don't have cousins and my grandparents on my mom's side are dead, and on my dad's side are traveling Europe.

Retirement.

I wanna retire and I haven't even started applying for college.

My fist hit the wheel as I pushed my seat back and brought my knees to my chests and cried for the first time in months.

I cried tears of fear.

Tears of frustration.

Tears of all the built up suffocation over the last few months.

Every tear that slid down my face was another lie I told.

I'm fine, why?
I'm okay!
I'm doing good/better.
...

The list went on.

It didn't last long, which I hated. I wanted to let go of all the emotions built up and cry. I felt the need to cry and I wanted to, but I just couldn't.

I ran my hands through my knotted curly hair in frustration and took a deep breath trying to let go of the anger.

I couldn't tell whether I want to scream or start hitting everything. Breaking it into pieces and crushing it; the way this car crushed my soul when less damage had been done to the car than to my dad.