𝐃𝐄𝐀𝐑 𝐖𝐈𝐍𝐓𝐄𝐑, ; 𝐣𝐚𝐧𝐢𝐞𝐥

24

daniel searched his room up and down. he had gotten home a few minutes prior, finding that no one else was home. he looked everywhere; under his bed, on his desk, in his closet. his mind starting spiraling, and he ran a hand through his hair. he hadn't found anything.

he was about to check his closet again when he heard someone clear their throat behind him. he didn't even have to look to know that it was his dad. any other day, daniel would've asked how long he had been standing in his doorway but he was too stressed to care.

"daniel? why aren't you at school?" jeff asked, watching him toss around his clothes in hopes of finding his journal.

"i, uh, i'm looking for something. a school thing," he replied, "what are you doing here? shouldn't you be at work?"

"i have the day off. i just came back from the grocery store."

daniel nodded, going back to searching.

"maybe you should clean your room. you usually keep it so tidy. it'll make looking for whatever it is you're looking for a lot easier."

"you don't think i know that?" he snapped, "why do you care anyway? why are you choosing to give a shit now? you never seemed to care before."

"daniel, of course i care. i know that I've been distant-,"

"distant? more like completely absent. you're almost never home. you leave before we wake up and you don't come home until 11. or even if you are home, you stay in your room. you don't do anything to us, you barely even talk to us!"

his father stayed quiet. daniel was so frustrated, he couldn't think straight. he sat down on his bed, hiding his face in his hands. he took a few deep breaths to pull himself together. jeff walked over to his son and put a hand on his shoulder. daniel looked up at him.

"meet me outside. we're taking the truck out of the garage," he told his son before walking out of his room.

daniel sat there for a second. he knew what his dad meant. the only truck that they owned was his mom's old pickup truck. the one that no one had touched since she had died.

he got up, scanning his mess of a room once more before heading down.