For a moment, I felt scared.
It was a familiar feeling, that fear. I knew that it definitely was not what I was thinking, yet deep inside, I couldn't quell that uneasy feeling.
I could hear from my mother's room raised voices. An upset voice, for sure, mixed with another that clearly reflected the same tone. Just to be sure, I got up and went into her room. Just to be sure.
"You have something to tell me?" my mother asked.
"Nope, just wanted to come in," I replied as I settled into her bed, catching up on the conversation.
I knew it wasn't an argument. I knew that. But for that moment when I heard the voices, I felt transported back in time to before the divorce. Boy, they weren't kidding when they said sounds hold memories too.
Even then, am I to live with this for the rest of my life?
