The next morning you felt a little better. For some reason the nightmares didn't visit you. There weren't any deamon dogs or serial killers at your heels. Maybe you'd left them behind with that old house. Maybe they were just looking for you so they could settle back in.

You sat up in your cot, swinging your legs over the side as your bare feet connected with the cool floor and a shiver ran up your spine. You remembered that you'd forgotten to turn up the heat on the thermostat last night. At least it was warmer here than it was in Oregon. There it was frosty frequently, being so high up in the states.

You stood up and got dressed, wearing a black T-shirt under a gray jacket and donning a pair of black sneakers and blue jeans that kept you warmer than most others.

Today you started your job at the small Café across the street as a waitress. Café Twon it was called, named after it's foreign owners. You weren't really sure if they were Chinese, Japanese, Cantonese, or what.

On your way out, you unplugged your phone, slipping it into your back pocket and putting your keys and wallet in the little leather satchel you sometimes wore when you didn't want to carry much.

Your phone was silent once more, any social apps having been exited from and not opened since the funeral. You'd stopped answering calls and texts, sick of all the "I'm sorry's" and "It'll get better's" that filtered in. People thought they helped by saying that, but they didn't. It was a false stereotype. Consolation after the fact just kept bringing the hurt back. Your family didn't understand that. No one did.

You locked the door to your apartment and walked down the stairs, taking in a deep breath as you looked up into the pale blue sky of dawn. Today you would exercise your smile and cheerful voice. It used to be so easy, but now you would have to focus to not slip into a monotone voice and keep the dead look off of your face. You knew you'd fall into the routine though and smile automatically after a while.

You checked the locks on your car before crossing the parking lot and then the street, entering the Café and slipping behind the counter, a pleasant and friendly look already on your face.

A pretty brunette girl handed you a black waist apron with a small pad and pen.

"Here's the menu, too," she said, handing you a small pamphlet that fit inside one of your apron pockets.

"I'm Janice, by the way. You?"

"It's (Y/N)," you replied with a small smile

"Alright then, (Y/N), there are menus on all of the tables, but that's a back up you can read off of just in case. You got your pad and your pen and your positive attitude, I trust?"

"Yep," you replied again. "I've got everything."

"Cool! Let's open 'er up then!"

The day drags by, but you're preoccupied by numerous orders and work. Between bussing tables and cleaning them, you don't really get a chance to think about your mother or all of the reasons you have to be sad. For a bit, you actually feel hopeful. Content. Then, your day ends and Janice flips the sign on the door from "open" to "closed." A few other girls had come and gone on timed shifts but you and Janice had been the only ones to actually stick it through the entire day.

In the end you managed to get up to 25 dollars in tips. Not too bad for a full day from opening to closing. You counted it out with Janice at one of the tables by the counter.

"18, 19, 20! Ha! Pretty good even if I do say so myself!" she said happily shortly after you'd finished.

"Nice haul, Janice," you said with a small smile as you pocketed the extra money in your satchel and stood up.

"Same time tomorrow?"

"Yeah, but I don't know where you're going! Take some left overs with you. This Café sells meals, don't it? We've got plenty of left overs for all the employees! Lord knows it helps."

She left the room and disappeared into the kitchen briefly before returning with a medium to-go box in her hands.

"Here ya go!" she chirped. "One dinner! Be sure to put it to good use!"

"I will," you said in appreciation. "Thank you."

"See ya tomorrow!" she called happily as you exited the Café/diner and hurried back across the street.

You're almost ready to book it up the stairs when a door of a car opens and you run directly into it.

"Oh my gosh, I'm so sorry!"

Food is sent flying and so are you as you are sent sprawling across the pavement.

"God, dammit! I'm so stupid sometimes!"

Someone kneeled next to you and placed a hand on your shoulder.

"Miss, are you okay? I didn't see you there. God, I'm so, so sorry..."

"I think he accepts your apology by now," you joked lamely, pushing yourself up and into a sitting position.

"Yeah, well right now I'm worried about you."

"I'm fine," you said, dusting your jacket off in an embarassed way. "Nothing is broken and I don't see any-"

"Sweet Jesus, you're bleeding!"

"Never mind," you muttered, the man stealing the words straight out of your mouth before you could dismiss them. Looking down, you saw that your knee had been scraped pretty badly and was oozing blood across the asphalt, but not at an alarming rate so it probably looked worse than it really was. You didn't really feel any pain at the moment so you were sure you'd be fine.

"It's alright, I just need to clean and dress it," you said, hoping to dismiss the subject and retire to your apartment again to be alone and sad like you wanted to be.

"No way! I wouldn't be a man if I didn't take care of the woman I hurt! It's my fault and I'm gonna fix it!"

You looked up, realizing that you hadn't even seen the guy's face yet and saw a tanned face with slightly long, blackish hair looking back at you, your eyes meeting his own soft brown ones.

"Really, I'm fine!" you insisted, but couldn't shake the feeling that you'd seen the man somewhere before. His face was shadowed by the sunset's fading light so you couldn't be sure.

"Fine, shmine. Let me take you into my apartment, I'll fix you up and replace that dinner of yours I just ruined."

"That's really not necessary," you said bashfully, tucking a strand of hair behind your ear.

"Maybe not, but I wanna so let me."

He held out a hand and you reluctantly took it, letting him haul you up with surprising ease. Who was this mysterious man?