“Would he confirm what you claim he did if I called him, then?”
She then looked annoyed and was obviously starting to lose her patience with me.
“There's no need for that.” She mumbled.
“So then you can't prove it. If you have nothing better to do than to lie, then there's nothing else I'd like to say.” I turned my back and shut the door behind me.
Taking the phone in my hands, I entered my father's number and contemplated talking to him. I don't even remember the last time we had. This phone looked new despite it being several years old. Since I didn't really know anyone outside my family, I rarely used it. Without me knowing, one of my fingers had slipped and pressed the call button. I tried to cancel it, but I froze up when I heard his voice.
“Hello?” He asked simply.
I couldn't find my voice.
“I know this is the house phone you're using. If you need to talk, I'm here.” He sounded very tired.
He didn't even need to say my name, I knew he was talking to me.
“I'm sorry.” I managed to say quietly.
“Is everything all right?”
“She said you were looking for me?”
“Why? Did you go out late again?”
“I couldn't stay in the house that night, she wouldn't leave me alone.”
“Listen, I know it's difficult right now, but you two need to try and get along, okay?”
“I'm doing nothing wrong.” I said in an annoyed tone.
“Just try not to argue with her.”
There was awkward silence that fallowed my last words. I hung up the phone assuming that he wasn't going to say anymore. This was usually how our conversations ended. As much as I'd like to say that I was used to it, I couldn't shake the feeling that he didn't say as much as he wanted. I didn't want to admit that I did, either. After dwelling in my own shame for a while, I set the phone down and walked up to my computer. When I logged in, the time read 7: 04 pm. The messaging program was blinking and I suddenly remembered what I'd planned. I didn't really feel like talking to anyone else by any means tonight. After all, I only had a few more hours until I had to go back to sleep so I wouldn't be late for class tomorrow. This weekend had been chaotic and I was glad it was pretty much over. The dream from when I'd last slept entered my head. It surely was different as there were no doors and it was a completely different setting. Feeling oddly tired again, I went over and tried to sleep again. It took several hours before I eventually got tired enough to drift off.
There were no dreams that night and I was glad. They only caused needless stress and that one with the rain was really upsetting for some reason. Despite sleeping well, I still felt rather tired and sore. Moments later, I unconsciously packed the things I needed in the bag I was going to take with me. The laptop I used was almost as unmarked as my phone and I was always sure to take it with me whenever I left for class. My phone, on the other hand, was almost worthless and just sat in my room most of the time. I did up the bag and locked my door behind me and then locked the door to the house. Like I expected, the cold was unforgiving. I forced myself to slow my pace when my lungs started to hurt from the strain. At this rate, I could very well be late. I didn't like arriving to the school when there were too many people there because I found it very stressful and I had trouble being able to function properly. This reaction was only worse if I hadn't taken the medication recently. The doctor had labelled them as panic attacks and nothing else. I felt a bit insulted because of how little of his knowledge he applied to that diagnosis.