Collision

Chapter 2

Tap the star for me?

Amelia

I laid on my bed crying. Seeing my mom and dad was just too real. It brought back too many memories, too much pain.

I missed my mom and dad. I missed my old brother. I missed my old life in general.

I thought about how Connar and I used to play in the snow, and mom and dad would help us build snowmen. I let my mind wander to the time my dad took me and Connar to the fair. I laughed when I remembered mom being angry at us for not taking her.

My beautiful family had turned to this. It made me sad, really, thinking about how everything was perfect. My whole world was perfect.

Then it came crashing down. I was no longer surrounded by my happy little family. My brother became a monster, and my parents were no more.

Somewhere along the line, deep in thought, I fell asleep

*

The next morning I woke up before Connar, as usual. The sun came through my bedroom window, telling me to get up.

I was starving, so I put on a long sleeved shirt to hide some old and new bruises, and a pair of plain jeans. I made my way to the bathroom, not the least shocked at what I saw.

The whole left side of my face was bruised and swollen. Usually, when Connar hit me, I would put concealer and foundation on. I studied the puffiness of my face.

The bruise was dark on the inside and faded to a light grey. I placed my hand on the outer edge, it was very tender. I wondered what my parents would have thought about this.

I knew concealer wouldn't hide the monstrosity it became last night. I did the best I could to hide it, though. I brushed my hair over the left side of my face, covering as much as I could.

I grabbed a pencil off the counter and wrote Connar a note. I told him I would be at Sheila's Cafe, and that if he needed anything to call me.

On the way there, I noticed people staring at my face. I considered going home, but home would mean Connar, and Connar meant pain. I pulled up enough courage to just keep walking towards Sheila's.

Sheila doesn't know about Connar, mainly because he rarely hits my face. He usually goes for the less noticeable points.

I think back to how Sheila and I met. It was a rainy day, and Connar was at home drunk, he had hit me, so I left. I stumbled into a nice little cafe, soaking wet.

Sheila greeted me at the door, I told her I just had a bad breakup. I figured mentioning Connar would cause more drama, so I lied. It felt good to talk to someone.

Every Saturday morning, I walk to the little cafe, and Sheila is always there to greet me. She's become my best friend, someone that I don't need to explain my life to for her to support me.

Before I had even realized it, I was at the door of my favorite place. I walked through and was greeted by the smell of cake, tea, coffee, and cornbread.

I expected to see Sheila behind the counter, doing her usual morning routine. I was shocked when a man in a t-shirt that said, 'Sheila's Café!' on the front, was standing where Sheila usually is.

His brown hair was short on the sides, and long on top, the natural gold highlights that flowed through it were beautiful. His gaze was focused on putting muffins in the counter.

I had never seen this man before. I didn't know Sheila was hiring, or I would've applied. I realized that I was still holding the door. Not wanting to let the very hot breeze of the summer wind in, I released it.