Sequel to Milk & Shoes Off. I may continue this, I may not.

My shoes click gently against the pavement as I walk, walk away from him. It hurts too much to stay, though in my mind I know that I shouldn’t be letting myself feel the pain. The secretary had nodded at me as I left- she knew what a short visit meant, and after handing me my shoes, she’d slid behind her desk and tried to pass sympathy to me in the merest of glances. Efficiency was everything, with my father. There were to be no let downs. Except for his family.
I frowned. Where now? There wasn’t an awful lot I could do, places I could go. My usually focused brain was drifting, and I found myself thinking of Hannah. Hannah… the one interruption in my oasis of calm, the one thing that wasn’t as sane as everything about the rest of my being. I shook my head. She was wild, she was bright, she was free. She was disliked, and everything about her was opposite to me.
But she was my friend… and that had to count for something, right? I needed all the friends I could get, but maybe Hannah was the wrong friend.
My thoughts twisted and changed direction again… to my mother. I hadn’t seen her since I was three, when she’d pulled on her coat and walked out the door, with not so much as a goodbye. She had never contacted us, there was nothing. My only anchor into the realm of emotion was gone, just like that. I was left, a crying child, with nobody to hug me or to hold me. I had focused entirely on getting over that hurdle, and then moreso on forgetting that I had ever been behind that hurdle.
The secretary… the secretary had lifted the barrier into a dam of emotion and if I wasn’t careful, wasn’t fast enough, I would never be able to block them back up again, I’d never be able to hide it.


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