a second chance

When Abigail was little, she and her parents would sit outside in their backyard and watch. They would watch anything, whatever that caught their attention. Sometimes it was birds or squirrels, other times it was the clouds, and sometimes even airplanes.Abigail's favorite was watching clouds, especially with her mother. The three of them would lay down with their backs against the grass, sunglasses on, and heads facing the sky on Saturday mornings. It was almost a ritual considering how often they had done this. They would watch the clouds and try to make out what the clouds resembled. Sometimes it was a bunny, sometimes it was an elephant in a tutu, and sometimes, it was just a snowball.&nb

I avoided the beach like it was the plague. I stayed in my bedroom, lying in bed, for the majority of the next few days, just thinking about nothing, everything, and something. There were too many thoughts going through my mind at once so I tried to sleep. It was hard to pick one thought, process it, file it away, and repeat the process all over again for the next one. It was better – and easier – to ignore everything. When that didn’t work, I simply laid in bed with my earphones plugged into my ears, blasting my music until I was uncomfortable.I don’t like confrontations. I don’t like being put on the spot, nor did I like putting other people on the spot. Confr

“Did you guys get invited to the barbeque the Wrights are throwing?” Anna asked. There was a collective reply of yes’.The six of us were hanging out at the beach, as usual. It was nearing nine in the evening and we were sitting on pieces of driftwood, a few feet away from the water with spiked drinks in our cups. It was oddly chilly tonight with a small breeze that carried the fresh saltwater scent.Tony had smuggled some alcohol from his parents’ cabinet, declaring that we were all in need of a drink. For what reas