Burned (Hate at First Flight #2) ✔️

38. Confessions of a Burger Thief

PLEASE VOTE / COMMENT / FOLLOW

XOXO
LOSALINI

•••※※※•••

It happened three years ago.

To be more exact, it was approximately one year, eleven months after my parent's tragic accident.

8th August 2012.

The date was forever etched into my mind, my soul and even my very being.

How could it not be? How could I even forget the day my parents, both of them were ripped away from me, all because of a freak storm that had torn the plane from the sky?

I sat still on my bed, my knees hunched up and pulled up against my chest, my hands wrapped around them as I leaned against my floral patterned wall. The sun had just graced the sky for at most fifty minutes and the cold breath of dawn was still lingering.

I could hear Nancy on the other side of the door, rushing around, pots clanging and the sound of sizzling goodness accompanied it's delicious aroma tingling my tastebuds. I checked the clock on the wall just above my door. 7:28 the digital display read.

My stomach rumbled, reminding me that it was empty, empty because I had skipped on dinner after our disagreement when I had gotten home last night.

I realised that if I was to make it to the Burns mansion on time, I should probably be getting ready right now, but the thought of confronting Nancy again this morning left me glued to my place on the bed.

I knew without a doubt she was waiting for me to continue our conversation from last night. Nancy was stubborn, even more so than me sometimes and right now I was not up for another confrontation.

If anything I thought I had made myself very clear last night. I didn't want anyone else there, especially strangers from my parent's past. Having the Burns there was more than I had the heart to welcome to my parent's memorial, but I knew that they were coming and I had no say in it.

My eyes lingered again on the photo that sat on my vanity. It had been taken when I was twelve at Gold Coast. We'd gone on a family vacation there because it was on mom's bucket list. I still remembered the day like it was yesterday.

I had my face buried into a chicken kebab wrap, my face red from the extensive exposure to the sun with two lines of sunscreen on my face while mom stood beside me, wearing a bright red summer hat, her lustrous locks of hair framing her otherwise bright face. Dad stood next to her, he was the only one not looking when the local we asked had snapped the photo. His eyes were on mom, looking down lovingly at her as if he wished for nothing more than time to freeze and that he could stay in that moment forever.

Two damp lines streamed down my face and I realised that I had cried without meaning to, although a small smile formed on my face at the memory.

"Krystal," Nancy's voice from the other side of the door drew my eyes away from my parents photo with me. "Krystal."

I involuntarily held my breath as my eyes darted to where her shadow preened from the gap under the door.

She shifted her footing, balancing her weight on her other leg before I heard her sigh. "I'll see you in the evening then."

I noted the clock reading that it was already nearly eight, and I realised she was probably heading to work now.

Then her shadow disappeared and I heard her footsteps walking away from the door. Thirty seconds later, Nancy had left and I was at home by myself, a coward in the face of confrontation.