"I've found something worth feeling for." It's him. It has always been him.
***
Dakota wants nothing more than to be numb.
She's lost grip of all she has ever loved. At least that's how she ha...
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I haven't taken a bath in three years.
It's not as gross as it sounds, I swear. I, of course, shower.
But stripping of my clothes, as the fabrics pool to my ankles, I barley keep standing. My body shakes, my pulse racing. Reminding me, at the very least, I'm alive.
I gingerly dip my toe in the tub's water, creating ripples in the liquid. I breathe. I can do this. I can.
I feel a warm tear stream down part of my check, leaving a salty taste of desperation when it lands near the corner of my mouth.
Breathing as steadily as I can without hyperventilating, I submerge my-
A knock sounds.
I open my eyes in a jump.
We had come to a stop at the doc. My taxi drivers scrunched sweaty figure knocking admittedly against the window.
I must have been dreaming again. God damnit. I was supposed to look father into their scholarship programs,or at least what to expect. I only know so much from what he had told me.
Unbuckling, I climb out of the cab, stepping onto the pavement.
I stand there. Watching. The water crashing against the shore before withdrawing back.
It's ridiculous now that I think about it. I fear bath water but I don't fear the chaos that is the ocean's current.
But the bath water killed him after all, not the ocean. Ironic isn't it?
A breeze of salt and morning after rain dew, tickled every one of my senses. It was almost calming having the wind carry my brown hair into my face, itching my nose, and brushing on my cheeks.
"$34.62."
"Hmm?" I look back to the taxi driver, having a smoke break leaned up against the taxi. Classy. He reeked of nicotine and chew tobacco the whole two hour drive here. No wonder.
"For the ride." He sneered looking at me like I was an idiot. Throwing the cigarette from in between his finger onto the pavement. Crushing the cancerous stick with his New Balances.
"Oh, yeah sorry." I shuffle in between my back pockets, and my raincoat. Finding nothing in my back pockets, I tried feeling out my wallet in my raincoast pockets.
Chapstick, gum wrapper.. uh.. wait ew. I pull out the half eaten cat treat. Great, Tubs, my grandmother's gray cat, left me a going away gift. How thoughtful.
Which reminds me Grams wanted me to call her once I got on board. A sudden clearing of someone's throat brings back my attention to the said someone, a very irritated taxi driver. "Um, okay so I don't have the money-" I sheepishly start out.
