When We Were One

Chapter 2

Chapter Two

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I groggily shift to my side, rubbing my eyes as my alarm blares that awful beeping noise. I really need to get a new

alarm clock.

"6:00. Time to get up." I say to myself, pawing at the snooze button on my alarm. Once it finally stops, I roll out of bed, groaning out loud in frustration. Fucking mondays. I slide my slippers on, opening the door to my room, walking past the living room and out into the kitchen. "Good Morning!" I shout, to no response.

At this point it's been a routine to say the least. Even though I know I'm not going to get one back. The sudden change of being in an empty house. Being alone. I hate it. So pretending like someone is here with me makes it...bearable? I sigh, opening the kitchen cupboard revealing little to no food. "Shit did I forget to go grocery shopping?" I mutter under my breath. This is the third time this has happened this month.

Pull yourself together Jessica. I'll just go later today.

Ever since my dad passed away it's like I've been going crazy, Forgetting stuff all the time. Meetings, work, and now just to get food? I look around the empty kitchen. Empty house. Empty house. I try so hard not to think about how alone it feels all the time, but sometimes it catches up to me. I remember when we used to have family reunions all the time here. I would make a bunch of food and set up everything in preparation. All their cars would fill up the street, as they got out of their cars, usually holding some type of food they brought.

My neighbors would complain about how it was a crime to have their driveway blocked off by cars, and we would just laugh at it. I mean, it might have been a crime since they literally couldn't leave their house, but it didn't matter. It's not like they did anything about it. I miss seeing my dad laughing the way he did with everyone. The way his eyes lit up when he saw Rowan. He loved Rowan.

Shit. I snap out of my thoughts as the image of him flashes in my head. The dream I had. Did I really dream about him again? It's been 4 months since we broke up and I'm still thinking about him constantly. I collect myself and look at the time, "6:30....6:30! Fuck! How long have I been standing here for?" It takes me 30 minutes to get to work, and work starts at 6:40. I'm screwed.

After rushing to put some on decent clothes, I struggle to grab my car keys as I rush out the door.