Incomplete // h.s au

Chapter 2

I jolted up in bed the next morning, startled and covered in sweat. Wiping my forehead with the back of my hand, I reached over and turned off my alarm clock.

Getting ready that morning was a challenge after getting only a few hours of sleep the previous night. Not to mention the nightmares that never seemed to cease no matter how many therapy sessions I went to.

After slipping on a t-shirt and skinny jeans, I put my hair in a messy ponytail and made my way downstairs.

All the curtains in the house were open, casting a warm glow on the old furniture sprawled about the rooms. The smell of the plug-in air freshener I put in the living room a while ago still lingers in the air, giving the area a crisp vanilla scent.

I walked in the bright kitchen and saw a note on the counter. Already knowing who it's from, I scanned it over as I got a bowl of cereal.

Rose,

Sorry I wasn't awake by the time you got home last night. What can I say? I'm old. I'm working a little later than usual tonight so go ahead and eat dinner without me. Maybe if I get back early enough, you can tell me how your protesting thing went last night.

Love you,

Dad

I didn't plan on telling my dad about my visit to jail. He would have never let me out of the house again if I did. But knowing this town, the news would get to him eventually, and I just hoped it wouldn't be soon.

After the tragedy that happened a few years ago, my father always did his best to keep me safe and from trouble. In no way did he want his only other child to leave him too. Because of this, I always tried to make things easier on him by checking in regularly and never leaving the house very much unless needed. This seemed to calm his nerves, and gave me an excuse to read all day.

I finished breakfast quickly and grabbed my purse from the coat closet. Stepping outside, I locked the front door and began the short walk to work.

The small city was alive and buzzing as I walked down its historic streets. The cute, little shops lined against the sidewalks were all opened and filled with their daily customers.

I lived in one of those small, perfect towns. The kind where everyone knew each other and flowers always bloomed no matter the season. Where you could leave your doors unlocked without the worry of robbery. At least, that's what it was like up until a few years ago.

Another thing my brother ruined.

I reached the antique store in no time and shuffled in quietly, noticing a customer at the front desk. I made my way behind the counter next to Barbara just as the customer left the building.

"Well your early." She remarked, smiling as she rearranged some magazines by the register.

Barbara was the owner's daughter and really my only friend. Unlike other people, she didn't judge me or my family.

I shrugged. "I just love this job."

She rolled her eyes. "And I love cleaning the bathroom. Hey, will you go organize the hats. That lady doesn't know how to look at things without touching."

I walked over to the shelves and began putting the old, smelly hats back in order.

What I told Barb was true. I really did love working at the antique store. I loved the idea that everything there had it's own history behind it and not knowing what that history was allowed my imagination to run wild.

"Anything new come in this morning?" I asked, and walked over to examine a painting we got from an old man the other day.

It was a large canvas filled with different colored roses scattered around a pond. The artwork was beautiful and if I had a few extra dollars, I would have taken it home. The name etched on the bottom corner read Phillip Grange, 1926.