Call Courtney

Molly:

Farrell's words stung deeply last night, and I found it difficult to sleep. I sat up in the living room with my legs crossed to my chest, and my head buried in between them. I wanted to cry, scream, and yell, but I would only disturb myself because the person I was angry at wasn't home.

For hours, I sobbed silently waiting for him to come home but he never did. Then I continued to worry about him, until I fell asleep.

******

The morning swept by real quick, and I was awoken by the sound of Farrell's car pulling up in the compound. The moment he opened the front door, my eyes opened wide, and remained open as I saw him walk into the house in a zigzag manner.

Was he drunk? I asked myself, as I stared at him.

He banged the door with a loud thud, and made his way to the living area while I scrutinized him from top to bottom. His hair was disheveled, his shirt wasn't properly buttoned, and his sleeves were rolled.

Seeing this made me uneasy, so I stood up from the seat then I walke