02- WINE SPILLS

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"Everyone has a chapter they don't read out loud

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"Everyone has a chapter they don't read out loud."- unknown

I scramble around my room looking for the one thing my father gave me before he passed. Throwing articles of clothing across the room, searching. But nothing. I feel my chest start to rise at a faster pace.

Running over to my closet shoving every shoe box out of the way searching for the one I use to keep old photographs and memories in. I see the familiar light blue peeking through a few more boxes.

I open the lid hoping what I'm looking for is there. My father's diary staring back at me. I pull the dairy close to my chest. Taking a long breath glad I didn't misplace it.

Flipping through the pages, passing my fingers through the engravings the pen he'd constantly use left behind after each sentence. I feel a tear fall, landing on the fully written page in front of me. I slow my breaths, placing my hand on my chest.

A knock sounds from the door of my room. I feel my body tense "Violet are you in there?" I hear a soft voice say from behind the door.

"Yes, I'm here," I reply hoping Mia doesn't enter my room. Seeing that I just ransacked my room. Sitting on my floor with puffing eyes.

I keep the dairy in my hands as I get up, walking over to my desk. I've never dared to ever read my father's diary. Even if every memory I have with him is good, I don't think I could handle reading the pages in this small book.

He was my inspiration, he was everything to me. And he was taken from me too soon. At 6 years old wondering why your dad isn't coming home anymore but still waiting by the front door, waiting and hoping he'll one day walk through those doors. But he never did.

I place the diary in the secret drawer next to my nightstand, where all the newspapers and everything involving my dad's death are kept.

My phone vibrates in my pocket making my heart jump for a second. I look to see that my mother is calling. She only calls once every few weeks and for only one thing.

"Hello?" I answer, knowing exactly what she's going to say in the next few seconds.

"Hi, Violet. Have you taken your medication?" She asks. Sometimes I hope that she'll one day not call me just to ask if I've taken my meds. That one day she'll call me and ask how I am or how my studies are going. But that hope died a long long time ago.

"It's the same answer each time you call. Yes, I have," I answer. Maybe I remind her too much of Dad. But that's still no excuse for abandoning me.

"OK good. Talk to you soon." She says and hangs up. I take a deep breath, my eyes starting to sting.

Don't cry. She does this all the time. It's not worth the tears.

I take another breath before turning on my laptop. I watch as it loads and notifications start to flow in. I skim through them and pause when I see one of the programs to help with college credits.

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