empty handed

Don't Look Back

Effy POV

"I told you we shouldn't have opened up that computer in the first place," Imogen complained.

"But I really wanted to show you that video!" I whined.

"That was a good video..." she sighed.

"I told you!" I chirped.

"Yeah but every time we open up youtube, we sit in front of it for hours!" she claimed.

"And we always regret it every time," I chuckled, leaning back in the passenger's seat of Imogen's black Honda Accord.

I began to look out the clear opening of the car out into the dark, vast nothingness of the small college farm town. There were a few lights scattered here and there from small establishments, but most of it was long and distant corn fields of the great old state of Wisconsin. Madison was usually the only hoping place around here. It didn't really bother me though; I don't mind a little bit of peace and quiet. It helps me gather my thoughts and lets me really examine myself as a person. Although, I've learned over the course of the four years that I have been at U-W Madison, that it is important for me to socialize in order to keep my mental health in check. It's too hard for me to look back, but let's just say that I've learned that it is important to take care of myself first before I look into helping others.

"We're here!" Imogen nudged at my side.

I leaped not very subtly at the notion, my elbow slipping from the plastic ledge of the door, causing me to fall slightly forward. My vision darted toward the bright white and yellow Walmart sign flashing before me. I hadn't realized we were already here because I was off to a far off distant world. This happens a lot, or at least used to happen more often: where I would zone off so far that Imogen would have to nudge me back to reality. This is why Imogen is my best friend; she dealt with my darkest moments and is still here to experience my happiest moments.

"Oh I hadn't realized!" I replied, pulling at the metal lever of the doorway, and hopping out of the vehicle.

I skipped around to Imogen's side of the car.

"Are you feeling okay?" she asked, shutting the door behind her.

"I'm definitely doing better," I smiled.

"You seemed very distant in the car," she reminded me.

"I know," I sighed, "I think I was just looking back and it sort of freaked me out."

There was a moment of silence between us before Imogen spoke up again.

"You know you can't just keep looking back thinking about how it could have been," she explained, "You need to be more positive about your life and start thinking about your present and future because that's what's ultimately more important. It's more important that you continue to live this happy and healthy life like you did this summer, and not keep looking so far back to your deep dark past."

I let all of that process within me.

She was right.

I have to stop looking back, even if I'm not looking so in depth within my past. Because if I do, I might get so far back into it all that it might take me to the same place I was only a year ago. I can't do this to myself again; I don't deserve that pain. God, I hate it when she's right, but I know it's only for my own good.

"You're right," I sighed, "I'm trying not to go back. It's been a difficult ride for me, for sure, but I promise you that I'm getting better each and every day."

We get inside of Walmart and I walk to the left to fetch us a cart. I meet up with Imogen by the produce.

"I'm always glad to hear that you're doing your best to get better," she smiled, "Just know that I'm just looking out for you."

"I know you are," I reciprocated the same facial expression, placing both of my hands under my chin, "and that's why I love you."

"Alright, let's get down to business," she chuckled.

"We have an hour to get everything," I reminded her, "Ready, set..."

"No, don't leave me!" she complained, "what if I get lost in here?"

"Oh come on!" I place my hands on my hips, "how many times have we been here?"

"Too many to count," she muttered.

"Okay well then, let's go on our own to get our stuff because I don't want to waste any time," I clarified, yawning widely, and covering the opening with the back of my hand, "I'm already getting tired."

"Fine..." her shoulders slumped as she pulled the cart away from me.

"Hey, that was my cart!" I whined.

"Get your own!" she giggled, sticking her tongue out at me.

"Ugh!" I groaned, heading back to the dark, metal wagons at the front of the store.

I grabbed the first basket on wheels that I saw, and began my trek around the store. It took me about five minutes to wipe through the produce section of the store. I was able to collect my wide array of vegetables into my cart. Imogen calls me the "vegetable freak" because I literally eat all kinds of vegetables like tomatoes and cucumbers and broccoli and avocados and much more that I can't think of at this very moment. But the thing is, I find it all normal. Vegetables keep you strong and healthy. I was always taught as a kid to try everything, even if you thought it looked gross; appearances can be deceiving. I think that's why I love eating everything. I'm such a foodie. Let's just put it this way: I'm always hungry.

From the produce section, I moved on to the baked goods. People always tell me to stay away from that area because it's all tempting, but for some reason it doesn't really bother me. Yeah, I have my sweet cravings, but I'm not always so tempted to buy sugary snacks. It's a God-given gift you could say.

The only thing I picked up from the baked goods section was a loaf of french bread and two bags of bagels. I definitely can't live my mornings without my freshly toasted bagels.

After that, I went through the aisles one by one. I love walking through each of the aisles, to see what unusual food I could get to cook something brand new. I strolled through the Mexican aisle which happened to be exceptionally crowded at this very moment. I stopped to look through all of the sauces that they had. While I was trying to find the correct enchilada sauce, I heard a voice to my right.

"Excuse me," a male voice rung through my ear.

I darted my head to see a tall, skinny blonde figure before me. You could say he was cute, but what bothered me the most was the arm candy he had right next to him. She seemed like the typical, perfectly curly hair, skinny as a stick and the most revealing clothes you could think of. After examining them, I finally realized why he had said excuse me: my cart was smack dab in the middle of the aisle, not even giving him any room to get passed me.

No matter how annoyed I was on the inside, I couldn't seem to let that show on the exterior. So, I timidly said, "Sorry!" and moved my cart quickly to the left of the aisle.

He smiled and swiftly walked passed me with his girl.

When he couldn't see me any longer, I rolled my eyes, finally being able to show my annoyance on the exterior.

Boys will be boys, I guess. 

[A/N: Finally updated this one too!

(I barely had any homework due this week/ got a project due date moved what a surprise....)

Life is great!!!

I hope you guys liked this one!

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