When Buckeye had me ground under his figurative, and sometimes literal, heel, there had been a sense of weakness that accompanied the situation. When I laid there in the hospital for weeks while finding the simple task of breathing a great chore, that had come with another kind of weakness. I was experiencing yet another version of the sensation at this moment. It was mid-afternoon, yet I couldn't believe it. All that time we spent in the courthouse felt like it took up an eternity. There had been papers to sign, seats to sit in for ridiculous amounts of time as our case kept getting pushed back due to other cases going over, the actual meeting with the judge that included me having to be in a room with Mimosa for almost way longer than I could handle, and the repercussions of the judge's decision, which included a bit more paperwork and a series of unique new emotions.
We delayed going home, because Uncle Al and Aunt Dahlia were taking Mimosa straight home. It seriously was the most awkward thing having this tension riddled case with the other when we could so easily see the other person through our respective front windows everyday. Getting away from the stress was next to impossible, which was why dad had had the smart idea to take all of us to Mr. Mosaic's bookstore. It was empty at this time of the day, I had a nice corner to hide myself in, and the rest of my family had items they could use as excuses to keep themselves away from me.
