Total pages in book: 96
Estimated words: 88669 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 443(@200wpm)___ 355(@250wpm)___ 296(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 88669 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 443(@200wpm)___ 355(@250wpm)___ 296(@300wpm)
And still I wouldn’t judge someone if they flashed their fangs at me, unless they happened to be wearing cargo shorts and Crocs.
Then yeah, I might judge. Not even the undead should be sporting those abominations.
I looked out the window as we drove through Hollywood Boulevard, full of theaters with glowing marquees and sex shops with floating lingerie in the window. Tourists walked up and down the street, stopping at their favorite star and crouching for a photo. There were costumed figures walking around, looking for cash in exchange for a photo, although some of them had to be Marvels using an illusionment spell because they looked like the real thing. Those were the ones that had lines forming to take photos and videos of, while the one-eyed Elmo dragged his dirty red feet past them.
A seat opened up (a dry seat), and I snatched it before the next stop. I still had a long ride to go, and my legs were already hurting. I started to beat myself up for not just taking the snake-way instead but figured I might as well enjoy this ride as much as possible. So I sat back and closed my eyes, trying to think about being somewhere on the beach but instead thinking about all the things I still had to do:
Call the credit card company and ask for a delayed payment.
Figure out what the hell was going on with my health insurance.
Apply to as many jobs as I could.
Make dinner.
Take a shower.
Read a book.
Apply for more jobs before bed.
Rinse and freaking repeat. Life. Since when did it get so full of anxiety and responsibilities? I used to be the most carefree kid on the block, dancing and smiling and teasing, not having to worry about a single thing. Then, in sophomore year of high school, my mom got sick. It should have just been a cold, cured with plenty of soup and rest.
Instead, whatever it was went straight to her heart. We were in the kitchen one sunny afternoon, chatting about school, when my mom stumbled, her face turning a stark pale color. My dad rushed to her side, catching her before she hit the ground.
Thankfully, we had gotten her to the hospital with enough time to save her. A blood clot that would have killed her if we’d waited a minute longer.
Unfortunately, she wasn’t fully herself when we brought her home from the hospital. She had trouble with her motor skills and needed help getting around the house. It crushed me to see her like that, but I stepped up to the plate, helping out wherever I could, however I could. She eventually started to get better, but she would never be a hundred percent.
That day my mom collapsed was the day everything shifted. Monumentally. As if another Tear had ripped through the crust of the earth directly under my feet, sucking me in and throwing me into an entirely new world. A darker one. Where struggles seemed to accumulate with the same speed as a heavy snowfall, piling up on your shoulders until the weight was so heavy you were sure you’d snap before the day was over.
I shut my eyes, the rocking of the bus enough to let me nap. I was dreaming about a vacation in Bali when my eyes fluttered open, and I realized I was three stops away from my destination. I stood up and stretched my legs, rolling my head so that a couple of pops climbed down my neck. Bus naps were never comfortable, but sometimes they were very needed.
I bent over a mom and her kid and tapped the button above them, the light turning red. The bus’s loud brakes sounded as we were all slightly pushed forward, the bus coming to a complete stop. I gently shouldered my way through the still-packed bus and stepped outside, the ocean breeze a welcome replacement for the stuffy air inside the bus. Two others followed me off, a couple, both of them wearing all black, looking like they were here to do a photoshoot on the rocks by the beach.
I didn’t think much of them, turning down the road and going to the crosswalk that led toward the beach. They seemed to be going in the same direction as me, the two of them stopping a couple of feet behind me as we waited for the light to change.
The sky was a bright blue, matching the waters that I could see stretch on for what seemed to be an eternity. The light turned red, giving us the all clear. We crossed the street in our newly formed group. Was it me, or were they getting closer to me? Maybe they needed directions to somewhere?
I figured I’d let them ask if they truly needed help. I had other things to focus on.