Chspter 1 Reminders of Him By Colleen Hoover

Reminders of him 

By 

Colleen Hoover 

Chapter 1

Kenna. There's a small wooden cross staked into the ground on the side of the road with the date of his death written on it. Scotty would hate it. I bet his mother put it there. Can you pull over the driver slows down and brings the cab to a stop? I get out and walk back to where the cross is, I shake it side to side until the dirt Loose Ends around it, and then I pull it out of the ground. Did he die in this very spot or did he die in the road? I didn't pay attention to the details during the pre-trial. When I heard he across several yards away from the car I started humming. So I wouldn't hear anything else. The prosecutor said, then to avoid having to sit through details. If the case went to trial I pleaded guilty because technically, I was, I may not have killed him with my actions, but I definitely killed him with my in action. I thought you were dead Scotty, but dead people can't crawl. I walk back to the cap with the cross and hand. I set it on the back seat next to me, and wait for the driver to pull back onto the road, but he doesn't. I glanced at him in the rearview mirror and he's staring at me with a raised brow stealing roadside memorials has to be some kind of Bad Karma. You sure. You want to take that. I look away from him and lie. Yes, I'm the one who put it there. I can still feel him staring at me as he pulls back onto the road. My new apartment is only two miles from here, but it's in the opposite direction from where I used to live I don't have a car. So I decided to find a place closer to downtown as time, so I can walk to work. If I can even find a job, it'll be difficult with my history and lack of experience. And according to the cab driver, The Bad Karma, I'm probably carrying around right now. Stealing Scotty's Memorial might be bad karma but one could argue that leaving a memorial up for a guy who verbally expressed his hatred for roadside. Memorials could be bad karma as well. That's why I had the driver. Take the detour down this back road. I knew Grace probably left something at the location of the wreck and I felt I owed it to Scotty to remove it cash or card. The driver asks, I look at the meter and pull cash and a tip out of my purse and hand it to him after he Parks. Then I grabbed my suitcase and the wooden cross. I just stole and make my way out of the cab and up to the building, my new apartment isn't part of a huge complex. It's just a single a standing unit flanked by an abandoned car. Lot on one side and a convenience store on the other plywood covers a downstairs window beer cans and various stages of Decay. Litter the property I kick one aside so that it doesn't get stuck in the wheels of my suitcase. The place looks even worse than it did on line, but I expected as much the landlord didn't even ask for my name when I called to see if they had any vacancies. She said, we always have, vacancies, bring cash. I'm an apartment one, then she hung up. I knock on apartment one. There's a cat in the window staring at me. It's so motionless. I start to wonder if it's a statue, but then it blinks and slinks Away the door opens and an older tiny woman stares up at me with a disgruntled. Look about her. She has curlers in her hair and lipstick smeared to her nose. I don't need anything. You're selling. I stare at the lipstick. Noting. How it's bleeding into the wrinkles hugging her mouth. I called last week about an apartment you said you'd have one available recognition flashes on the woman's prune like face. She makes a humming sound while looking me up and down didn't expect you to look like this. God, I don't know what to make of her comment, I look down at my jeans and t-shirt while she walks away from them.

For a few seconds, she comes back with a zipper pouch, 550 a month first, and last month's rent is due. Today I count out the money and hand it to her. There's no lease she laughs stuffing the cash into her pouch, your in apartment 6. She points a finger up, that's right above me. So keep it down. I go to bed early. What utilities are included? Tony's On Water & trash, but you cover electric. It's on. Now, you have three days to get it. Switched into your name. Deposit is 250 to the light company. Fuck, three days to come up with $250. I'm starting to question my decision to come back so soon, but when I was released from transitional housing, I had two choices, spend all my money trying to survive in that town, or drive the 300 miles and Spend all my money in this one, I'd rather be in the town that holds all the people once connected to Scotty, the woman takes a step back into her apartment. Welcome To Paradise Apartments. I'll bring you a kitten. Once you get settled, I immediately put my hand on her door to prevent her from closing it. Wait, what a kitten. Yeah, a kitten like a cat but smaller. I step away from her door, like it was somehow protect me from what she just said, no, thank you. I don't want a kitten. I have too many. I don't want a kitten. I repeat who wouldn't want a kitten me. She Huff's like my response is completely unreasonable. I'll make you a deal. She says, I'll leave the electric on for two weeks if you take a kitten, what in the hell kind of place is this Fine. She says responding to my silence. As, if it's a negotiation tactic the month, I'll leave the electric on for the whole month. If you just take one kitten, she walks into her apartment, but leaves the door open, I don't want a kitten at all ever, but not having to spend $250 on an electricity deposit. This month would be worth several kittens. She reappears with a small black and orange kitten. She places it in my hands. There you go. My name is Ruth. If you need anything, but try not to need anything. She goes to close her door again. Wait, can you tell me where I can find a pay phone? She Chuckles. Yeah. Back in 2005. She closes her door. Completely the kitten meows, but it's not a sweet. Meow. It sounds more like a cry for help you and me both. I mutter, I make my way toward the stairs with my suitcase and my a kitten. Maybe I should have held out a few more months before coming back here. I worked to save up just over two thousand dollars, but most of that was spent on moving here. I should have saved up more. What if I don't find a job right away. And now I'm tasked with the responsibility of keeping a kitten live, my life just became ten times more difficult than it was yesterday. I make it up to the apartment with the kitten. Clinging to my shirt. I insert the key in the lock and have to use both hands to pull on the door and get the key to turn. When I push, open the door to my new apartment, I hold my breath afraid of what it's going to smell. Like, I flip on the light switch and look around releasing my breath slowly. There's not much of a smell, that's both good and bad. There's a couch in the living room, but that's literally. All there is a small living room and even smaller kitchen, no, dining room, no bedroom. It's an efficiency apartment with a closet and a bathroom. So small, the toilet touches, the tub. The place is a dump, a 500 square foot, absolute shit hole, but it's a step up for me. I've gone from sharing a 100 square foot cell with a roommate to living in transitional housing with six roommates to a 500 square foot apartment. I can call my own, I'm 26 years old and this is the first time I've ever officially lived somewhere alone. It's both terrifying and liberating. 

I don't know if I can afford this place after the month is up, but I'm going to try. Even if that means applying to every business, I walk past having my own apartment, can only serve to help us. I plead my case to the Landry's, it'll show, I'm independent. Now even if that Independence will be a struggle, the kitten wants down. So I put her on the floor in the living room, She walks around crying out for whoever she left downstairs. 

I feel a pain in my chest, as I watch her searching corners for a way out, a way back home, a way back to her mother and siblings. She looks like a bumble bee or something out of Halloween with her black and orange splotches. What are we going to name you? I know she'll more than likely be nameless for a few days while I think about it. I take the responsibility of naming things, very seriously. The last time I was responsible for naming someone, I took it more seriously than I've ever taken anything that could have been. Because the whole time I sat in myself during my pregnancy, all there was to do was think about baby names. I chose the name DM because I knew, as soon as I was released, I was going to make my way back here and do everything in my power to find her.

PK

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