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"When darkness turns to light, it ends tonight." - It ends tonight by All American Rejects

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I pull out the driveway as soon as possible, pushing a single thought of Devin away and fixing my eyes on the road.

The rigid steering wheel is tight on my grip as I drive down with no single destination. I don't watch my speed, neither do I care about getting another ticket from the cops for over-speeding. But Dad always tell me to stay away from driving whenever I'm drunk or when I'm in full anger.

So this time, I decided to pull the car aside under Dad's favour.

The thick silence is drenching the car, slowly drowning in my existence. I spend every second, every minute in solitude. Time is ticking like the life of little ants; so fast but so slow. However, I'm still here waiting. Waiting for the world to go on without my control even though every bit of me understands how insane that sounds. I close my eyes in surrender, abusing my own knuckles by a tough stud on the interior door and I let out a hiss of physical pain.

It is just the sound of the whining cars and the music playing on some kind of local radio suffocating my ears. And I thought, what exactly is my problem anyways?

But my mind can't give any answer.

Talking to anyone is not what I need right now. I want space and time. I need to properly take in things chronologically.

Dean and I don't see each other often enough at school days, and our age is to be blamed. Nevertheless, during lunch time, we'd spend it on a drive to his favourite burger joint, The Burger House. When we first started talking, he used to tell me about how much he loves the retro diner that he'd visit almost every single lunch time with his football buddies that groups about eight people. Including Devin Kyle.

Though I assume that hasn't been happening ever since we officially got together because from that onward, he's always driving me to the place during lunch time, though I always see them at the table on the corner every time Dean and I both walk in together. It surprises me all the time how they always arrive before we do. Most of his friends don't like me, and I never asked them to. I don't know how or why, they just never do. Dean did make an effort to change that, but I backed away. I loathe placing my self into a situation I don't feel comfortable with.

I've unintentionally been a barrier, their barrier for the past 15 months. And this brings up more reason of what a mess I am.

Another place that I love comes into mind. The only place closest to peace that I could think of.

Straightening my posture with one hand back on the steering wheel and the other on the gear, looking rear-view mirror to make sure no car is slipping ahead, I go back into the main road.

After a short drive, I'm finally entering the lot, the greenery slowly becoming more and more visible as I speed down, covering the distance. In no time, an empty spot surprises me, probably the only one left, so I put my car into a halt. At least the empty spot kind of cheers me up. Just a little bit.

Before leaving, I check my phone to 16:43 on the screen. And a couple of text messages from Dean. I don't want any virtual communications just yet. Especially with Dean. I switch my phone off, tossing it back to the passenger seat and make my self out.

I take my step slowly on the pathway, greeted by the crisp air tagging along the spring breeze afternoon, splashing my hair into a more terrible mess I have been. The sky is so clear as it guards the yellow core, happily shining bright across Portland's little city for the very first time in months.

As I hug the sweater that's covering my body, I momentarily stop my pace and look around, until my eyes are caught by a little girl wearing mini sun dress running across me euphorically.

"Mom you're not suppose to run after me like that," screeches the small girl while trying to catch her breath back after too much of laughing and running with her mom going after her.

More laughters of children with their parents fill my ears, hugging me with warmth and comfort I've been craving for so long.

As much as I hate to say this, but I've never been so jealous of these joyful kids, and the smile curled on their lips. How fortunate these kids are.

Their smiles are treasures, and I can't avoid but to pull out a doleful smile my self. I scan the park once more to find a place to sit, until I see one under the tree, far enough from everyone. I quickly head to the bench before it is occupied.

I sit on the wooden chair and watch around, until I can't take it anymore. Once that first string breaks, the whole scene is unstoppable by the streams gushing down. I let it all out for the second time, because this simply is the easiest thing I can ever do.

The tear I have been holding for so long.

The tear of solitude and fear.

The tear of going through each and every pain again.

The tear that makes me wonder, will he fulfil his promise to come back?

Because the last time I remember, the person I loved the most told me, "I'll see you soon! Goodbye!" So I waited. I waited for her to come home until the second I can't hold my eyes anymore. But I didn't give up. Instead, I waited for her in my little nap on the couch, completely oblivious at the fact that she will never come back.

Seven years ago, I shattered.

And that is how everything started.

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The parallel clock on the wall ticks its pin to 6.08 pm by the time I push the door to my house open. I have lost track of time that the second Mom or Dad spots me, I will surely be bombarded with ten different kind of questions of the same topic.

Relieved that the two is still nowhere in sight, I quickly ascend the stair as quietly as possible to avoid Question & Answer session with Mom or Dad.

Just when I am about to take my very last step, a voice coming out from downstairs calls out, "Adeline" —I stop, and I though my heart almost dropped.

"Shit!" I snap, placing my hand over my chest. Tensed, I turn my head around— to dad on the other end of the stairway. I huff out a long breath I didn't realise I've been holding. "Dad! You scared me."

"Adeline, language."

"Sorry but you scared me."

"Where have you been?"

Guess I'm not getting what I wanted and needed tonight. Already knowing what he meant, I reassure him, "I was helping a friend catch up with some school work in her house and I think I forgot to tell you guys about it earlier," referring to both him and Mom.

"Stella?"

"Uh no, it was this girl who missed school for a week which I'm not sure why," I lie with hopes that my face and voice is convincing enough to support the lie. I thank god for not stuttering because I, for the record, only stutter when lying and Dad obviously know that.

Without a single hesitation, he says, "Well okay, go get yourself a good warm shower and we'll wait for you at the dining table."

Before giving me the chance to speak out another word, he's already walking away to the kitchen in which I believe where Mom is as she prepares for dinner. I don't think any food will go through my throat happily as I have no appetite to savour anything right now. But I don't argue about dinner because I have zero energy for an argument with my parents, not that I expect any.

So I take over my last step and hastily rush to my bathroom. The house that we live in is quiet spacious, that my bedroom has it's own bathroom and a walking closet- tiny but more than enough for me.

I saunter across and stare at the mirror. In the reflection I see in front of me, stands a figure with her brunette hair falling on her shoulders. A very weak figure with beautiful hazel eyes almost sunken because she's neglecting it for only tearing up when she can actually do a whole lot more with them, not to mention winning a staring contest. A very vulnerable figure that is afraid of another trivial scar that is permanent.

Because like tattoos, anything permanent hurts. Including me.

That figure is me. I am hurt.

Nonetheless, I'm never giving up. I will not drown in the abyss of darkness. Not anymore.

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After a hot warm shower, I finally feel clean again. I find a clean pair of clothes and tossing it on. Hanging on my studying chair is Dean's sweater that's been sitting on the same spot since the day he left it when he came for a sleep over last weekend. Portland's winter nights never go away, so I take his sweater and put it on. The familiar scent lingers in the air. The smell of cologne, and warmth.

I miss him. And I'm afraid of losing him.

My thoughts and fear are cut off as a voice calls for my name.

"Yeah?"

"Food is ready," says dad I can barely hear through my closed door.

"Right okay I'll be down in a bit," I reply, making sure my tone is loud enough to be heard.

I stumble down the stairs, taking precautions to not fall over. My limbs are about to run away from my body, and my brain is a second from to dissipating out of my skull. My whole body, head to toe, aching. I'm longing for sleep.

And never wake up.

I made it alive across the living room to the dining table, joining mom and dad without any injuries from the stairs. On the table sits heaven. Mom had cooked Mac and Cheese for dinner. My heaven. Now, I don't think anything can ever beat Mac and Cheese.

I take a sit opposite Mom and offer her a smile, the fact that she's the only one who haven't questioned me anything yet. I offer her a wry smile, and she returns one back.

The dinner was literally a solid 20 minutes of awkwardness, with none speaking a single word, until dad starts, "Addie, Mom and I will be out of town for work 5 days before your spring break starts."

Mom and Dad going out of town for work and leaving me alone is not something uncommon anymore. So I shrug it off. "Oh...for how long?"

"Just 12 days"

"Just 12 days?"

Dad nods tentatively, stealing a quick glance at Mom who also plasters the same expression on her warm beige face.

Dad's profession as an architecture has taken a lot of our family hours over the years, and I've never really questioned it. But today will be an exception.

"The longest you've gone was only 4 to 5 days. What will take the two of you so long this time?"

"I'm starting a new project in Los Angeles, and they need me in for an interview with the homeowners. Also," he stops– looking over to mom while tapping his fingers on the wooden furniture, bringing in a really uncomfortable atmosphere. I already know he's trying to tell me something and not hurt my feelings at the same time.

"Also, what?" I question daringly.

"Also, Mom's twin daughters–"

I nod in disbelief, already enlightened with the idea of where this is heading.

"–your step sisters–" he corrects.

"My step sisters," I scoff back.

"–are visiting California. We thought that we might see them since you know, they came all the way from Europe and they barely come over due to college work. Always busy ladies."

The mention of my "step sisters" slightly bothers me, and I suddenly have no response to it like my lips just got zipped close when I actually have a lot to say back.

Dad recognise my unease of the situation when he quickly builds up a raw plan in his head. "But like, presuming that you want to join us, I can call the head of your school to ask whether they let you take–"

"No it's fine. Don't bother yourself doing that," I mutter. I know dad's struggling to bring up words and it pains me to watch. And as much as I want to come, I don't want to cause any complications, nor do I want to ruin Mom's spring break with her daughters.

Neither Mom or Dad answers.

Out of nowhere, mom jitters in, "Adeline, honey." I adjust my sight to her, "You won't be alone. Your brother is coming back home from Arizona on the 17th, remember?"

"And the both of you knows Aiden will also be back home from college. So don't you guys want to spend some time with him too? As a family?"

"It's not like that, Addie," dad points out. "But your mother a—"

"Or...is he already out of the equation? Actually why don't my twin step sisters, Hailey and Shailene, come over to Portland so—"

"Adeline."

I get up and throw my hands up in the air, giving up. "Okay whatever, dad. Do whatever you wish to do."

"Nick, give her time," whispers Mom in the most quiet voice so I don't hear it. But I did.

I dart back up to my bathroom, brush my teeth and then hop into my comfy mattress. The moment I've been waiting for so long. Right when I'm about to close my hollow eyes and end the harrowing reality, the door of my room cracks open. And in just a second, dad is already sitting on my bed by my side.

"Hey baby girl. I'm so sorry. I didn't mean to—"

No, I'm sorry. But I only apologise in my head.

"No, it's fine, really. I completely understand."

And I mean it. I completely understand. Putting him in a more complex situation is something I've tried to avoid. He's been through enough, and hell, another shit of mine is the the last thing I want to see him facing.

The smile on his face slowly falters to guilt, but I see his attempt of hiding them by looking down.

He hovers his hand on mine, slowly caressing it. "Thank you for always understanding. Now get yourself some sleep, I don't want to be the reason why you're lacking it."

He gets up, and places a kiss on my temple. Shoving everything that's happened today, I feel back the love I thought has been missing when it's always enduring. "I love you, Dad."

"I love you too, Adeline. I will alway do."

And suddenly, sleep takes me in.

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Let me know if you're #TeamDean or #TeamDevin in the comment box below!!

Love, LDAI. x