Carla Mason:

The breakfast table is empty. Bare, vacant, clear.

Nobody's up, even though it is time for school. I make my way towards the kitchen cabinets to search for food, but there's nothing save for a complicated jumble of raw ingredients that I don't know what to make of. There is some milk and cheese in the fridge, but no bread.

Every time one of these fights happen, it seems as if my parents forget they have children; that they are running a family, that there's more to this world than just their petty disagreements. Mama doesn't cook any food so Dad has to starve himself, and Dad does not return home till very late at night so Mama can be suspicious of where he spends his time.

Truth is, Dad eats in a restaurant nearby and does not starve, and Mama binge watches TV shows and gives herself a day off with loads of wine. Meanwhile, I hear my stomach growl all day long and miss talking to my parents, whilst Jenny goes for a sleepover at her friends.

When these fights used to happen before, Jenny used to bring food for me. Sometimes she would cook it herself, and I'd take big, big bites of it so I don't have to go through the torture of eating it for too long. And then I'd look up from my food, lick my fingers and give her a thumbs-up. She'd smile and I used to beam back at her.

Now, she doesn't do that anymore. She doesn't even ask if I've eaten.

Very silently, I tip toe to her room to check up on her. The door has been left ajar, allowing me a peek inside her messy room. I can't see much, just her unmade bed and a pair of socks lying on the floor. So she's already left for college.

I am aware I shouldn't do it.

I know it is a breach of privacy. I know she'd hate me if I did. But she has been avoiding me for months and I need to find out why.

Gently, I swing open the door to her room and enter inside. The room smells distinctly of lavender, as if her mauve colored walls are more than just paint, as if they are the flower itself. Her comforter is pulled over her unmade bed, resulting in lumps of various shapes and sizes.

I look to her bedside table in search of the photograph of the two of us together—the one we took at the beach. We both loved it so much that we each got a copy for ourselves and framed it to keep it by our bedside tables.

Her bedside table is empty.

Save for an alarm clock, it is empty. There is nothing there. Nothing that interests me, anyway.

I swallow through the lump in my throat and blink repeatedly. I read somewhere that if you stare at an object long enough, tears don't come.

I stare at her empty bedside table.

I feel as if it is staring back at me; looking into my eyes and telling me that the sisterhood the two of us shared, the friendship we had, is gone. It is not here anymore. It has vanished.

I can no longer stand to be here. Here, where every single thing in her room is witness to what was and to what no longer exists. Wiping away the salt water streaming down my cheeks, I rush out of the house, grabbing my backpack on the way out.

The air outside is dense with moisture. It smells of dew and crushed leaves and damp mud. Above, the sky is a darkening, tumbling grey, the clouds thick and heavy with water. It looks as if it is going to spill in a while.

My school is at a twenty minute walking distance from my house. If I have to reach there without being drenched, I need to hurry. Everything turns into a blur of color and movement as I sprint. From among the chaos of motion and hues visible from the corner of my eye, I discern a voice calling out to me.

Slowing down, I come to a halt and turn to the source of the sound.

It is Uncle Jeremy. Jeremy Donahue, our next door neighbor.

Beside him on his beaten up cycle is his son, Eric Donahue. We're in the same grade, but not quite friends. He moved in with his family to our neighborhood a few months ago, and only just recently joined my school. He hasn't had any luck with friends, but I don't feel like befriending him. I don't want to start new friendships, and I regret the ones I already have. They are just another burden to shoulder.

Uncle Jeremy waves at me. Eric only smiles, a dimple appearing only on his left cheek. It always only appears there. From the months of exchanging friendly smiles in hallways, I can assure you that never has that crater in his skin made an appearance on the other side.

I find that very strange.

Waving back, I walk towards them so I can listen in to what Uncle Jeremey is saying. Every day, he waves and Eric only smiles at me but they have never stopped me for a chat.

"Hello, Uncle," I say as I approach them.

"Well, hello there, Carla. You seemed in such a rush today, child. I was wondering if everything is okay?"

"Yes, nothing to worry about. It just felt like it was going to rain today so I thought I'd dash to school before it starts spilling."

He looks up at the greying sky, and when he looks back down, there's a water droplet resting on the tip of his nose. Grinning, he wipes it off and reaches into his son's bag to pull out an umbrella.

"Looks like it is already drizzling, eh? Well then I'd better rush to work before it starts to pour heavily." He hands out the umbrella to me. "Take this. Open it up when it rains. The two of you can go to school together, I believe?" He turns to address his son. "You know the way, don't you champ?"

Eric nods.

For some reason, I nod too.

"Well, I guess I'll leave you guys to it then. Be safe." He is turning to leave, but then he remembers something and turns back to face me, "Oh and Carla, if it is raining when you are on your way back home, know that you are always welcome to come with Eric."

The crater on Eric's left cheek appears again.

I wish he'd stop smiling so much, but I don't say anything. Instead, I nod and pay my gratitude to his father for the kind offer.

Uncle Jeremey waves goodbye to both of us, spins on his heels and heads in the direction opposite to ours.

*****

Author's note: Hello, everybody! I can't believe it is Thursday already because it feels like I posted the previous chapter just yesterday. Time flies.

Anyway, do let me know what you think about this chapter in the comments. I absolutely love to hear what you have to say. Thank you to anybody who is reading, you make me incredibly happy!

Speaking of being incredibly happy, here is a bunch of Wattpad authors who never fail at making me smile:

mandyln : you are so encouraging and supportive! Thanks so much for the cover.

ShhBethsReading : I absolutely adore you. Thank you for being one of my very early readers.

And i guess it is now time to end this author's note awkwardly. I hope you all have a nice week, or whatever is left of it anyway. I can't wait to see you all next thursday!

-RZ.