Don't be scared ~ Diane Sherman

Preparing for her 

Monday couldn't have rolled around slower, each day since Friday I've wanted deeply to escape my horrific mother and her partner to see Diane. The hours went slower and my mothers screams sounded louder, the last couple days have been spent in my small bedroom without food, oh how I wish to see Diane, to spend time with her. I've only met her once but she already grants me a sense of security and comfort, and our conversations are so easy. When I visited her home there was not one awkward moment shared between Diane and I.

Slowly I feel myself waking up to the sound of my mother violently throwing pans around the kitchen in search of something.

I whine and pull my soft security blanket over my body and hold it contently under under my chin, the sun shines through my curtains and the angelic sound of small birds singing a song between each other can be heard over the ringing of my mother.

I groan and try to shut my eyes, not wanting to get up. That is until I remember today is Monday, the day I get to work with Diane.

A rush of adrenaline shoots through me and I quickly rush into the sitting position, I sit letting my mind wonder about seeing Diane, her features, her voice, her calm personality. My heart seems to flutter whenever I vision her.

I fail to resist the toothy smile that fights to grace my lips. In thought, I rise off my warm bed onto the cold hardwood floor and cheerfully stroll to my small dresser.

Excitedly, I rummage through the drawers (messily stored with soft articles of clothing) in search for the perfect outfit.

After a few moments of endlessly throwing around the mountains of clothes I've successfully enclosed in my wooden dresser, I've finally found a presentable outfit.

A lavender purple crew neck with a white collared shirt underneath and a pair of lose black pants that have buckles on the pockets, along with a fresh bra and panties.

I bundle my clothes into a tight ball and hold it close to my chest.

Before stepping out of my bedroom, I press my ear hard against the the solid door in search of any indication my mother is continuing to have an episode of terror.

Luckily it has passed and all that can be heard is food Frying in a pan. Avoiding any projecting noise from the door, I slowly turn its metal nob and ease it open cautiously, stopping at the first squeak.

I brush past the hard piece of wood and tiptoe close to the wall, not wanting to my mothers attention to fall over me.

She pays no attention as she cooks food for herself and hank, who as already passed out on the couch.

In peace, I sigh entering the unkempt bathroom. I handle the door carefully And guide it closed.

My expression becomes terror-stricken when I turn my socked feet on the cold porcelain floor and come in view of the deep purple pigment hiding the natural shade of my skin over my eye as I stand in the mirror.

The joy I once endured is recurred with dread, dread that Diane would see and say something to my parents, she could get hurt.

I speedily strip out of my clothing and shake my head in attempt to stop my frightful thoughts.

quickly turning on the shower and swiftly step foot into the sprinkle of the water, waiting not for the water to heat up, in attempt to compensate for the waisted time I spent looking in the mirror.

hastily I wash my hair and my weak body, when I part with the shower and shut off the water, a dizziness falls over me and everything goes black.

I grip the sink and wait for this to pass, said symptoms happen recurrently in event that I don't eat.

Finally the blackness passes and my vision is present, I sigh and gather my clothing off the floor.

Without waisting a second I change into my outfit. When I stand in the mirror, I'm quite content with my appearance, excluding my purple painted eye.

Why did this happen, I should have cleaned up after myself, it's all my fault.

I augur that Diane will question the events that lead up to my black eye, trying to think of an excuse, I settle on saying "I fell unpacking".

I hang out my soft towel on the metal rack that sits in the corner of the bathroom. With dread, I ease the bathroom door open and squeeze through.

My mother has yet to notice I've departed with my bedroom, and I urge for it to remain like that.

Finally I reach my bedroom and shut the door, an easiness is brought by the atmosphere of my bedroom. My mother often resigns from entering my small living space, thankfully.

Remembering Chloe wanted to paint, I hurry and pack my painting supplies and a pair of old jeans into my backpack, I've previously packed my school supplies and Diane's sweater she let me borrow so I'm prepared to part with my house.

Not wanting to face my mother, I open my window and with careful hands, I take out the screen. My bedroom is very close to the ground so it's no hindrance for me to easily jump out.

I attentively crawl onto the window cell and leap onto the soft ground, I huff and wipe my pants.

Before any stops in my plan could arrive I dash to dianes house.

A/N
Sorry this chapter was boring but Diane is going to be in the next one !!!