These days, I'm so scared of facing my family that I don't even write on my diary unless I'm sure I'm home alone. I can't trust anyone, especially because Griffin and his nosy ass parents will try to take a peek at my house at any time. At this point, this is borderline stalking. Do they even have limits?

Anyway, my family don't even bother defending themselves against the Evans' repeated intrusion. They're busy preparing to say goodbye to Jesse, who's set to move in with Brittany. Good riddance. Mostly for her. I hate when she comes round on Saturdays, pretending to act prim and proper in front of Mom and Dad while she turns into a shrieking banshee when they're not around.

Today, she's here as well. Once again. Isn't she supposed to plan hers and Jesse's upcoming move? I don't bother flashing my fakest smile at all because it's pointless. She'll still find ways to discredit me and accuse me of putting an act. How am I supposed to be nice to her if she's anything but to me?

Fortunately, she ignores me and turns her full focus on Jesse. From what I've learned, he and Brittany are set to move into their own place quite soon. Since no-one has confirmed anything yet, I base part of my knowledge on my theories.

Today, I see they're busy packing Jesse's stuff. Although I'm expected to help placing items in boxes, I use a bathroom break to weasel out of the most tedious part of it. There's too much in my mind. I have no time for Brittany's antics. I'll cheer when she's finally out of my hair.

Five minutes have barely passed, but I overhear the noise of hands slamming the other end of the door. I pray it's Leanne or the twins, not Brittany. I can't stand her or the idea of her constantly invading my space.

"Braverly, are you done there?" I recognize Delyla's voice. I retain a sigh of relief just for the sake of not catching negative attention. "I need to pee! Move!" I rush to finish what I'm supposed to do and leave the bathroom so that my sister can go.

To make sure Brittany doesn't accuse me of slacking off, I decide to check and count the boxes that have already been packed. A few of them haven't been duct taped correctly, so I intervene to fix the matter. Another one is broken, which means that I have to replace it. I do it without too much trouble.

When I'm done, I search for another task. Brittany doesn't take it very well. She thinks I'm just wandering aimlessly through the halls without doing anything in particular. She barks at me. "Be useful or get out of here, you good for nothing piece of shit!"

I respond calmly, "Don't worry, I'll be out of your hair in a minute or less. Hopefully, we never cross paths again." That said, I disappear in my room and prepare myself to leave home once again. I swear, if Mom and Dad force me to attend Jesse's wedding, I'll lose it.

***

Away from that hellhole, I walk my way in the relentless hope to find somewhere as far from home as possible. As much as I'd like to go back to the river, I'd like to change the route for once. I don't want to be predictable and be caught.

I walk at such a brisk pace that, within the next hour, I'm already out of Waterbridge. I wonder what the next town has in store for me. Maybe there's an attraction good enough to pique my interest. All I'm sure of is that I need a break from the drama looming over me like a curse.

When I realize I'm far enough from Waterbridge, I slow down. I need to take a breather. I barely have any money, so I can't afford to go to a rest stop or a bar. I'll just sit somewhere to catch my breath and then move forward until I find a cheap convenience store.

My purpose is to defy when I keep walking for more and more miles without stopping, even when I slow down more. Only when I see a minimarket, I decide my walk is over for now. I count the money in my pockets. Four dollars. I won't be able to afford a lot.

Still, thanks to the owner's generosity, I manage to spend only two dollars fifty on two of the cheapest items—a bag of chips and a random fizzy drink I've never heard of. I think this is another great chance to try something new. It may not be as fulfilling as Imelda's pastries, but I'll make do.

I find a bench outside the convenience and sit there to refill energy and try the drink for the first time. It's interesting. It's a mixture of Dr. Pepper and Chupa Chups flavor. I take a picture of the can as a reminiscence. As much as I'd like to keep the can itself, I can't. My parents would tell me to trash it the second they see it.

I take thirty minutes to finish the drink, mostly because I eat several mouthfuls of chips between a sip and another, but also because I want to savor it at its fullest without rush. When I'm done, I recycle the trash in the correct bins and restart walking, away from the minimarket.

However, I don't go south, back to Waterbridge. I walk further north. I check the hour on my phone: 8pm. Whether my parents notice my absence or not, it's not my business. If anything, they can't even order Delyla or Sadie to torment me with messages. There's not enough signal on the way—any text would be delivered late.

I keep walking until I find a small square on the way. This has to be a downtown area. There's barely anyone here, which means no-one to ask for directions. I notice a bench on one side of the square, not fair from a small fountain. I sit there and take a look at the sky. My eyelids slowly shut as I'm transported to my alternate world.

***

The square is filled with a pervading sense of joy and liveliness. Tears of relief leave room for contagious laughter. People of all ages dance around the large fountain at the center. Most of them are in pairs, but there's someone who swings and sways on their own.

Out of a sudden, the high energy, upbeat music is replaced by a downtempo ballad. Everyone stops dancing, with the exception of Jesse and Brittany, who capture everyone's attention with their magnetic performance. I can't take my eyes off of them. For four minutes, I feel as if gravity isn't here.

They finish with a sensual tango, their bodies one on the other. At the end, a long, solemn round of applause erupts, which I follow through. Then, I shed a tear. Mom hands me a tissue. "Don't cry, Braverly, this is supposed to be a happy day!"

She's right. We're meant to live to find our happiness. I wipe my tear as the atmosphere goes back to being fully festive, with cheers from every corner of the square. Meanwhile, I reflect on Mom's words. A happy day. Actually, not one like others.

This is Jesse and Brittany's happiest day so far.

***

When I wake up, I realize that, so far, I've only pretended to feel joy, in order to keep up a mask that no longer fits me. I feel trapped, burdened, as if I'm not meant to feel positive emotions without looking guilty.

My family have stripped me of my chance to be truly happy.