#piecescomingtogether

Hey, journal.

I know I just wrote to you a few hours ago, about the fun day, but Sissy came home again late. I couldn’t get her up this time. She nearly pushed me away to a glass case of our parents belongings. I thought the best way was to call Mr. Busbo, so maybe he could give it a shot. He answered after the third ring, listened to what I said, and told me he’d be there as soon as he could. I hanged up, then, and went back to Sissy. I kept trying to poke her up, but she curled into a ball and cried some more. Mr. Busbo knocked on the door, and I yelled it was unlock. He pushed Sissy and she screamed. I mean, SCREAMED, journal. He quickly shut the door and sat beside her. I was quite surprised it didn’t take much to calm her down. He just stroked her arm, she leaned into him, and then he could just pick her up and take her to the couch. I decided to let them talk while I made us some hot chocolate.

I guess that was the other weird thing, too. When Mr. Busbo asked her what happened, she said something about “attacked…again..and…and…I couldn’t…run…”, so he shushed her and picked up a blanket from the cupboard, without me asking. Doesn’t that seem odd to you? Then, he came into the kitchen after he calmed Sissy down some more. Here was the conversation:

Luke: Hey, kiddo, thanks for calling me. Me: I didn’t know what else to do. (Keep in mind I’m still making the hot chocolate) Luke: Does she usually come home like this? Me: Yeah, but it’s spotted. Plus, she’s usually calm enough to the point I can get her to breath and drink some hot chocolate. Luke: Ah, that makes sense, but why hot chocolate? Me: I remember Sissy would come home from school, and the same for me, and we would be in a bad mood or depressed. Our parents, mostly mother, would make us some hot chocolate when they could, and then we’d just talk. It helps. Luke: That’s cool, that you still do it. Me: Yeah. Hey, can you get me some muggs from the cupboard there. (He does and puts them beside the oven) Have you been here before or something? Luke: Yeah, sometimes late at night, when you’re asleep, and Sal needs a friend. Me: Okay. How long have you been dating? Luke: It’s approaching six months now. Me: Wow, and right under my nose. (He laughs) Can you get me the marshmallows and the whipped cream, please? (He does as I pour the hot chocolate out of the pan. I sprinkle marshmallows into the first two mugs and too them with some whipped cream.) Here, these are for you and Sissy. Luke: Thanks, kiddo. Me: You’re welcome, Mr. Busbo. Luke: You are allowed to call me ‘Luke’. (He bows and smiles.) Me: Very well then! (I curtsy)

Sissy did calm down after that, and Luke decided he was going to stay the night. So, now I’m back upstairs and getting ready to go back to bed. I JUST had to tell you that.

There’s one more thing, journal. I have a feeling he could’ve lied to me about being here before. Sissy would’ve told me the next day, whether I heard them or not. Could it be possible?