SNAP (The SNAP Trilogy Book 1) Read Online Free Page A
Author: Tara Dawn
regretted using them after. I'll take that pill, though, if it helps me to sleep easy tonight.
"Sure thing. Get ready to ride the rainbow, I'll be there shortly."
"KK. Hurry up, bitch. I need nicotine!"
"Alright, don't get your panties in a twist. Love ya, buh-bye!" I hang up before she can say anything else to me and toss my phone into my purse with a sigh. Trying to fool Cady is wiping me out too.
I head into the Post Office to mail off all of my hard earned money. My blood, sweat, and tears soak this shit. Literally. I am accident prone and have injured myself several times at work. One time being the moment I almost sliced a nipple off with the lemon slicer. That's a story for a different day. Right now, I'm mentally singing the blues about paying all these bills for all of this shit I can't even enjoy because I live at my job. Don't get me wrong, I love my job. I've worked hard to get where I am, but this is the first day I've had off in sixteen days and my dogs have long gone hoarse. I was in dire need of a day off a week ago, but working has kept me busy and not dwelling on horrible things. The only person I can blame is myself for volunteering to work when I should be getting my head on straight.
After the post office, I head over to the nearest gas station to grab some ciggs and a fountain pop. Nothing tastes better than a fountain pop. Okay, I take that back. There are some things that taste better, but when I'm parched and in need of an ice-cold caffeinated drink, a fountain pop beats the hell out of everything else. It's my father's fault. Every time we went out, he would stop and get us a pop to share. Now every time I leave the house I stop and grab one. I take a long draw on my straw enjoying that slight burning, fuzzy, bubbly, sweet sensation of my drink, sighing into my aaaah after that first sip. Freaking perfection.
The newspaper catches my eye as I wait in line to pay. I notice an article titled New Drug On Mississippi Streets . That's all we need. More people addicted to narcotics or whatever this drug is. Like I said, I'm no angel and I'm thankful they've never had a hold over me, nor would I want them to. My father would be so disappointed if he knew I even did them once let alone a few times. I go back to enjoying my drink and getting lost in the fizzy goodness with thoughts of my father dancing around in my head.
"Miss…. Are you ready to check out?" The clerk asks with a raise of his brow.
Don't look at me like that, buddy. It's the small things. My mouth opens to say a kinder version of my thoughts when I hear a chuckle come from behind me. Oh dear lord, this jerk better shut it, I'm not in the mood. That's something else I've noticed lately. My patience is thinner. A lot thinner. I hate that. I've been snappy with so many people, and that's not me at all. Maybe that's why they look at me like they know what happened. I'm having problems recognizing myself some days.
"Yep. Can I also get two packs of Blues in a box?" As he turns to grab the cigarettes from the holder behind him, the jerk sets his drink down next to mine and comes forward to stand next to me at the counter.
What the fuck buddy? I'll be done in a minute.
I turn wondering what his deal is and see Phil next to me. He chews on the straw of his drink with his perfectly white teeth like he's hot shit. Memories from that night flicker through my mind putting me on edge. I take in a deep breath to calm myself. Anger is all I've felt toward him since that night. And his sudden appearance at places he never goes is happening more and more making me more uneasy every time I run into him. I don't need to lose my shit in the middle of the gas station. Shaking my head, I turn back around to face an annoyed gas station cashier.
Yeah, I'm annoyed too.
"$11.17, please," he says, bored.
I take my debit card out of my change purse and swipe it in the card reader. When the keypad pops up, I punch in my pin and slip my card back into my
"Sure thing. Get ready to ride the rainbow, I'll be there shortly."
"KK. Hurry up, bitch. I need nicotine!"
"Alright, don't get your panties in a twist. Love ya, buh-bye!" I hang up before she can say anything else to me and toss my phone into my purse with a sigh. Trying to fool Cady is wiping me out too.
I head into the Post Office to mail off all of my hard earned money. My blood, sweat, and tears soak this shit. Literally. I am accident prone and have injured myself several times at work. One time being the moment I almost sliced a nipple off with the lemon slicer. That's a story for a different day. Right now, I'm mentally singing the blues about paying all these bills for all of this shit I can't even enjoy because I live at my job. Don't get me wrong, I love my job. I've worked hard to get where I am, but this is the first day I've had off in sixteen days and my dogs have long gone hoarse. I was in dire need of a day off a week ago, but working has kept me busy and not dwelling on horrible things. The only person I can blame is myself for volunteering to work when I should be getting my head on straight.
After the post office, I head over to the nearest gas station to grab some ciggs and a fountain pop. Nothing tastes better than a fountain pop. Okay, I take that back. There are some things that taste better, but when I'm parched and in need of an ice-cold caffeinated drink, a fountain pop beats the hell out of everything else. It's my father's fault. Every time we went out, he would stop and get us a pop to share. Now every time I leave the house I stop and grab one. I take a long draw on my straw enjoying that slight burning, fuzzy, bubbly, sweet sensation of my drink, sighing into my aaaah after that first sip. Freaking perfection.
The newspaper catches my eye as I wait in line to pay. I notice an article titled New Drug On Mississippi Streets . That's all we need. More people addicted to narcotics or whatever this drug is. Like I said, I'm no angel and I'm thankful they've never had a hold over me, nor would I want them to. My father would be so disappointed if he knew I even did them once let alone a few times. I go back to enjoying my drink and getting lost in the fizzy goodness with thoughts of my father dancing around in my head.
"Miss…. Are you ready to check out?" The clerk asks with a raise of his brow.
Don't look at me like that, buddy. It's the small things. My mouth opens to say a kinder version of my thoughts when I hear a chuckle come from behind me. Oh dear lord, this jerk better shut it, I'm not in the mood. That's something else I've noticed lately. My patience is thinner. A lot thinner. I hate that. I've been snappy with so many people, and that's not me at all. Maybe that's why they look at me like they know what happened. I'm having problems recognizing myself some days.
"Yep. Can I also get two packs of Blues in a box?" As he turns to grab the cigarettes from the holder behind him, the jerk sets his drink down next to mine and comes forward to stand next to me at the counter.
What the fuck buddy? I'll be done in a minute.
I turn wondering what his deal is and see Phil next to me. He chews on the straw of his drink with his perfectly white teeth like he's hot shit. Memories from that night flicker through my mind putting me on edge. I take in a deep breath to calm myself. Anger is all I've felt toward him since that night. And his sudden appearance at places he never goes is happening more and more making me more uneasy every time I run into him. I don't need to lose my shit in the middle of the gas station. Shaking my head, I turn back around to face an annoyed gas station cashier.
Yeah, I'm annoyed too.
"$11.17, please," he says, bored.
I take my debit card out of my change purse and swipe it in the card reader. When the keypad pops up, I punch in my pin and slip my card back into my
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