As the alarm blared, I was pulled from deep sleep. A groan filled the room as the sound was silenced with a heavy hand. Sunlight streamed through the curtains, casting a warm glow on the familiar posters of bands and the bookshelves crammed with novels and trinkets. I sat up slowly, stretching and yawning, still tired from the restless night.

Rubbing my eyes, I swung my legs over the side of the bed and shuffled to the bathroom. Flicking on the light, I squinted at my reflection in the mirror. Long, layered, blonde hair framed a face with dark green eyes that were still heavy with sleep. Freckles dotted my nose and cheeks, and a stubborn piece of hair stuck up in the back, refusing to lay flat no matter how much I tried to smooth it down.

"Get it together," I muttered to myself, splashing water on my face in an attempt to fully wake up.

A quick shower and a change into some ripped jeans and an off-the-shoulder crop top later, I felt a little more alive. After putting on my favorite black cap, I left the bathroom. Downstairs, the smell of coffee wafted through the house, a small comfort in the daily routine. On my way down, I heard a muffled fight.

“Have some cereal, I got to drop you off, Owen!” I heard a voice that sounded like my mother's.

“I want pancakes!” My brother’s voice said.

“Then you should have woken up earlier!”

Sighing, I came into the kitchen. “I can drop Owen off, Mom.”

My mother's lips curved upward in a gentle, restrained smile as her warm gaze met mine. Her eyes seemed to hold an expression of appreciation— and possibly exasperated happiness as she looked at me.

“Would you?” She asked, checking her watch.

“No problem,” I replied, grasping her hand and squeezing it.

Once my mother said her goodbyes, I grabbed my brother’s and my backpack and headed out the door, dragging a whining 7-year-old into my dark silver Ford.

College passed in a blur of lectures and hallways filled with chattering students. By the time the final bell rang, I was so ready to escape the monotony and head to my part-time job at the coffee shop.

The café was a small, cozy place with a steady stream of regulars. I tied on my apron, ready to start the shift. I began the usual tasks—taking orders, making drinks and sometimes talking to the customers.

"Quinn!" a coworker called, breaking my reverie. "Can you take this order?"

“Sure,” I nodded, walking up to the counter. “Sorry for keeping you waiting, sir! What can I get for you?”

The man put his hands on the counter, leaning close to me.

“Hey, pretty lady!” The man grinned a toothless smile at me. “You’re charmin'! Black coffee, thanks. Nothin’ else, girl.”

“Coming right up!” I said, trying to maintain a friendly demeanor.

After a short while, I emerged with a mug of freshly brewed, steaming hot coffee in hand. The creepy dude was waiting right at the cash register. He looked at me and smiled again. Somehow this time, it looked fake.

“Ah- That was fast!” he exclaimed.

“I believe in good customer service. Is there anything else you need?” I asked, flashing a forced smile right back at him.

"No thanks, sweetheart," the man said with a smirk, his eyes lingering on me a moment too long. "I'll be seeing you around."

“Mmmhmm…!” I nodded, feeling way creeped out. I hope not.

At around 6:30, I started stacking chairs. My coworkers and I always hated it when people came in closing time.

My friend, Katie, walked up to me with a broom. “Hey Quinn!” She smiled, her happiness always shining.

“Hi Kate,” I replied offhandedly, focused on trying to lift the chair on the table. “Where are your little sisters?”

“Oh, I found them a daycare now! Much better then bringing them to work.” She laughed.

“Oh I—”

Suddenly, a bullet ran straight through the window, aimed right at me and Katie.

🩵

I know I’ve been doing all these part one, part two things,but I will actually continue this one!! <3