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It'd been a long time since you last considered drinking your worries away, so long that you even entertained the idea of just turning around, getting back into your car and heading home instead of actually going through with it. You've managed this far without needing to drink yourself into a stupor just to ease the stress of raising the girls; you could probably do just fine going to bed for a nap. Against the voice reasoning you to walk away, you open the door. The instant you step into the bar you realize the place is a far cry from the tidy, almost perfect looking sports bars you visited during your brief stint in college, the décor and atmosphere of the place reminding you of the typical biker bar you'd always see in the movies. Though, you recall it not being too far of a cry from how the dingy place used to look when you first came in six years ago, before you settled for drowning your stress at home. You're not sure if it's because you hadn't had anything to drink since breakfast or if you just missed the bitter yet oddly refreshing taste of beer. You found it to be the most helpful during the terrible nights you struggled to sleep the first half year you were alone, but you've had to quickly abandon the drink once your daughters came into your life. However, with your day off and the four in school, there's no amount of disrepair or distractions that would stop you from enjoying at least one drink. 'Yeah, just one drink,' you mentally reason to yourself as you look for a spot to sit. The state of the bar does have you slightly on edge though and you quickly scan your surroundings only to notice the place is damn near empty save for the burly, human barkeep and what looks to be a panda woman enjoying a beer on the far end of the bar counter. You take a seat at a stool near the opposite end of the bar. You're here just for drinks, not socializing. If anything, you notice that you've probably chosen the best time to come to a bar to drink alone. The previous times you've been to bar since your brief year of recuperating, you've come by during the nighttime, making drinking and keeping calm a struggle by the numerous people sitting around you. At the very least, you have a solution for such a problem as well as your daughters not seeing you drink. "What can I get for you?" the bartender asks, his voice booming through the quiet bar, undoubtedly meant for a loud ruckus. "Whiskey, please," you answer tiredly, feeling a dull throb beginning to appear in your head. "Jack Daniels or...?" "Yeah, please." As the man fetches your drink and pours you a glass, you briefly scan the room once more and quickly look at the only other patron in the bar. A panda woman in a red blouse and jeans sits at the near end of the bar opposite of you, nursing her own drink of what looks to be beer. Much to your dismay, however, she looks your way with a smile that ate away at your insides in fear of the worst. You break the brief moment of eye contact to look at the drink the bartender just put down for you, hoping that by keeping your attention on the brown liquid she would leave you well alone. You take a quick drink from the cool glass, wincing and clenching your jaw as your throat burns with the contact of the liquid. You hear a stool creak far off. You don't look, hoping that it's just signaling her departure. "Hey. How're you doing?" You nearly flinch as you hear a feminine voice speak and sit at the stool beside you. You can see her black and white fur out of the corner of your eye before you even turned your head to look at her, only further confirming your fear. You're unsure of how to respond. Desperation makes you want to demand her to leave you alone, but you know she doesn't deserve any response of the sort. You still feel wildly uncomfortable with her sitting so close to you, making you question if it outweighs the guilt you may feel. You don't want to be cold, though you really don't feel like making small talk with a stranger right now. You decide to respond with something simple and hope your tone is enough to dissuade the panda girl from further conversation. "Hi," you say in the most neutral tone you can muster. "Don't think I've ever seen you around before," she says, the enthusiasm in her voice telling you your plan a had failed spectacularly. "Just stopping in for a drink, usually not much for drinking in bars," you say, opting to deepen your voice to see if it would have the intended effect in cutting the conversation short. "Nice, same here. I come by every now and then before work," she continues, your attempts at subtly telling her to leave you proving ineffective. "Don't get too much of a buzz and it helps with the early rush, you know?" You're starting to get nervous. She's getting closer and closer as she talks to you, making you feel like a knife is poking its tip into your ribs and is slowly inching its way inside with each second she sits close to you. "Mhm," you respond, not caring at this point about giving her the cold shoulder. You knew it probably wasn't very healthy to shut out people trying to make conversation with you, but right now it was the last thing you wanted to do. "You close by, too?" she asks. You can hear the old stool creaking as she leans in slightly closer, making the urge to panic all the harder to suppress. "Yeah," you quickly shoot back. as you try to come with a way to abandon the conversation, taking more sips from your drink in an effort to drain the glass. You notice she's working on the last of her drink and are thankful for that, hoping she won't stick around for another. A few seconds pass and you can hear a ringtone go off, looking down at your pockets before realizing it isn't your phone that's ringing. From the corner of your eye you can see the girl pull out her smartphone and start typing something on it's keyboard. "Shit, I've gotta go, work calling in," she says to seemingly nobody in particular. "See you around Rob. Was nice seeing a new face around here, by the way." She stands up and walks towards the door, but stops with an exclaimed "Oh!" You flinch as she turns around to look at you and asks, "I'm Lily. What's your name?" "David," you reluctantly answer. She smiles and gives a small wave while she backs up to the door. "Alright, you have a good one, Dave," she says before opening the door and leaving. As the door closes, shutting out the cold autumn air, you let out a breath you didn't realize you were holding as you were left alone with the bartender. He looks preoccupied with a newspaper, leaving you be to enjoy your drink by yourself. However, as you look down into the small pool of brown liquid, you still feel increasingly anxious. You try to fight off the feeling in your muscles by downing the rest of your drink, though it serves to only mitigate the feeling ever so slightly. You ask for a refill, tearing the bartender away from his paper for a brief moment. You think quietly to yourself as he fills the glass back up and reassure yourself that you had nothing at all to get nervous about. 'She didn't even touch you, let alone show that much interest in you,' you think, taking a quick sip of the whiskey to help. 'She could be waiting outside. Maybe close to your car; it's the only one in the parking lot. She could be exactly like-' You take a quick swig of your drink, clenching your eyes shut as the sting and burn of alcohol washes over your mouth and throat. You can still feel her hands on you. You take another swig, quickly realizing that you've reached the bottom of your glass. You raise your hand ever so slightly before stopping yourself. 'It was just supposed to be a few drinks,' you think as you rest your hand back against the bar counter. 'But what's one more to hurt?' You clench your jaw and fight the urge to ask for "just one more", knowing fully well that it will soon spin out of control and turn a drink into several drinks. You sit and stare quietly into the empty glass, mind torn between asking for a refill or leaving. A hollow feeling rings through your ribs and an ache in your head. You come to a slow stand and hesitantly fish out some money to pay for the drink. The bartender puts down the newspaper and gives you change without a word, then puts your glass aside as he returns to his newspaper. You shove the money into your pocket and approach the door, your anxiety rising to a peak as you see the light peeking in through the small window. The sudden tightness in your chest leaves you wondering if it’s more than just your run of the mill anxiety attack. You take slow, deep breaths as you try to fight the feeling welling up within you, though your pace is thrown off by the thoughts flying through your mind. ‘The panda woman that had struck up a conversation seemed friendly enough... But what if-’ You try to banish the thought from your mind, but you continue to dream up worst case scenarios as if it was the most natural thing in the world. She could be waiting for you outside, ready to jump you, tie you and drag you away. The thought it it all happening again makes you sick to your stomach. What would your daughters do without you? The thought of them alone and afraid without you poisons your mind, and you quickly shake your head as a full body shudder courses through you. You feel eyes burning into you and you quickly turn your head back to look at the bartender. His gaze was still quietly focused on the newspaper, and as before, not another soul occupied the quiet bar. Despite confirming that you're not being watched, you still can't dissuade the feeling of uneasiness settling in the pit of your stomach. Your mind wanders back to the idea of finding comfort in just one more drink. You fight against the idea and look back to the door. 'But what if he warned someone that you were coming out so they could....' you muse, though you stop with a quiet breath in and out. You feel your heart begin to slow as you try to remain rational and calm. You silently count down from ten and tap against the form of your keys outside your pants pocket, giving you momentary relief. As you hit zero, you pull out your keys, open the door, and step outside at a brisk pace. You quickly glance at your surroundings as you beeline for your car, eyes wary for anything and anyone out of place. All you could see were the empty streets and parking lot in the early afternoon sun, but you hastened your pace to a near run regardless. What took just under a minute from the car to the door now feels like an agonizing hour as you continue looking all around for a sign of life. You consider running the last bit of distance. You remember how futile it was and how quickly she caught up to you. Even now, she could be sprinting towards you, and you wouldn't even know until it's too late. You struggle to breathe as you try to force more air down your dry throat with quick breaths in and out. You could be right about that panda woman; even she had a day job. Anyone could be just like her. Every single person you talked to in the past week could be just like her. Your daughters could be talking to a teacher that'd take them away from you. You finally approach the car and jam your key into the lock. You quickly unlock it and hurry yourself inside in a scramble before finally slamming the door behind you. You lock the car and take a gasp for air. You look around you in the relative safety of the car; as before, the streets and parking lot are completely empty. A horrid thought pierces your mind, breaking the momentary calm. You turn around and look into the back seat, releasing the breath you were holding in a shaky, relieved sigh as you just see Lisa's stuffed toy staring back at you. You recline back into your seat and decide to take a moment to compose yourself, hoping to fight away the further onslaught of worst case scenarios at the thought of endangering yourself on the road. You can feel a stinging sensation in your eyes, taking a moment to blink it away before pressing your hands into your eyes. The deep breaths weren't helping very much, but something was better than nothing. You were starting to regret not taking that third drink, but there was no way in hell you were going to leave your car, much less go back into the bar that started this episode. Besides, you made a promise and you wanted to keep it. You weren't going to make yourself a drunkard; not with your daughters' lives in your hands. You close your eyes and rest your head into the seat. 'Maybe just a few minutes to think. Help calm down.' You take efforts to slow your breathing, slowly but surely feeling the stress in your body beginning to wane. After some time, you open your eyes to look at the clock on the dash reading 1:38 PM. 'I have time to go home, but it'd only be about half an hour of time before I have to pick up the girls,' you think. You quietly look out of the car window, noticing several more cars now populating the once desolate parking lot. You scratch at the skin on the side of your index finger before finally coming to a decision. You put the keys into the ignition, start the car, then pull out of the parking lot and head towards the school. The passing sights, cars and traffic lights were a blur of noise and color as you approach the school building. Your mind was too distracted to think about anything else, but you were thankful to at least have shifted your thoughts from the previous line of thinking outside the bar. Within moments, the school comes into sight. You park in the relatively empty parking lot and open the car door. Just as you’re about to lock and close it, you stop yourself and open the back door to grab Lisa’s Mr. Puppy. Plush toy in hand, you now lock the car and close the doors, then approach the front entrance of the school. You try to open the door, though you quickly find that it's locked. You look around the doors before noticing a small intercom on the brick wall beside the doors. You push the button and quietly wait, eventually hearing the crackle of the speaker come to life. "Front office speaking, may I please have your name?" a feminine voice calls out thru the speaker. "David Fairfield," you answer, unsure if you needed to say more. "One moment," she says, and the background noise on her end fades out. You hear the speaker crackle to life again moments later. "Just come by the front office and I'll print you out a visitor's pass. For a moment you want to say that you're not visiting and are just here to pick up your daughters but she cuts off before you can respond. You step through the front door and quickly make your way towards the front office, the bright decoration of the room assaulting your eyes. You take a few careful steps towards the fox woman manning the counter, keeping a respectable distance from her. You open your mouth to speak before she interrupts you. "Hi, how can I help you?" "I'm the guy you just spoke to over the, uh...." you say, snapping your fingers as you try to remember the word. "Intercom?" she says and you quickly nod your head upon hearing the word. "David, I assume? Let me just write you out a visitors pass. Which classroom are you going to?" "Yeah, do I still need one if I'm just here to pick up my daughters? They're in ru-" and you cut off, quickly correcting yourself. "Ms. Ruby's classroom, I believe." "Sorry, it's just district policy to make any visitors wear passes, even if they have students enrolled. Just a safety precaution though, I assure you." "No worries, just wanted to make sure." She hands you the sticker and you carefully place it on your shirt. "I'll buzz her classroom and let her know you're coming," the fox woman says with a smile. "Thank you," you reply before turning around and making your way towards the classroom. Though it’s a bit minimal, you feel a twinge of relief at the security at the school. You don’t know if people like- Well, you don’t know if anyone bad could get in without a problem, but at the very least it’s something. After a minute of walking you find yourself standing outside of the classroom. The door is shut, though you can hear the ruckus of young children talking behind the door. You check your phone, discovering that you’re ten minutes early from the time their class lets out. You wonder if you should wait outside the remaining ten minutes or if it’s OK to pick them up now, though you do consider that it would look off for you to be quietly waiting outside of the classroom. However, breaking you from your pondering on what to do, past the noise of kids you could hear something else: the incredibly familiar sound of a young girl crying. You hesitate as you hold your fist in front of the door, though you quickly muster up the nerve to knock. After a few seconds the door opens ever so slightly and you can see Ruby poke out her head and part of her upper body through the crack in the door. When she finally spots you, she looks up at you before flashing you a quick, small smile and opening the door fully. "Hey, wow. Talk about good timing, mate." You peer past her into the classroom, the source of the crying sending a wave of worry upon your mind. Near Ruby's desk Lisa sits, the brown fur of her cheeks wet with tears and her eyes red as she continues to sob pitifully. Behind her you could see her sisters, with Amanda trying to comfort a similarly wet and softly crying Megan as Sally looks on close by. "There was a small fight at the playground 'fore you showed up. No one got hurt, but it got lil' Lisa and Megan spooked real bad." "What happened?" you ask, focusing your attention back on Ruby. "Well, on the playground, Lisa pushed a kid down. Says she was saying something mean about her sister." “Was she hurt?” “No, not even the other kid. Started cryin’ real bad though when one of the teachers came up.” You look back behind Ruby again, now noticing that your daughters see you behind the small kangaroo teacher. Lisa, in particular, almost looks to be crying harder now that she has seen you. "Did she apologize to her?" "No, not yet. She's in a different class, so it might have to wait until tomorrow." "Alright, I'll tell her to say sorry. Are... You about to finish up, class here?" "Yeah, 'bout five more minutes or so. I already did the whole song 'n' dance about agendas and all that, right now it's just them playin' until the bell rings. Can prolly let you go with 'em early." "Thank you," you answer. Ruby steps back into the room to let you in. You approach Lisa, now sputtering for breath as more tears wet her cheeks. "I'm sorry, I'm sorry," she starts, her speech broken as she lets out another sob. "Hey, hey... It's okay. Let's calm down, alright?" you gently speak, kneeling down to be eye to eye with her while holding up her stuffed toy. "Look: Mr. Puppy's here. He doesn't want you to be sad, alright?" "I'm sorry... I didn't mean to, I just... I wanted her to stop," she cries, your attempt at calming her down failing. You offer the stuffed toy to Lisa, who quickly takes it from your hand to hold in a tight hug. "C'mon, we can talk about it in the car." You come to a stand and motion to Sally, Amanda, and Megan. "Let's go, girls." The three come to a stand, with Amanda hanging back to say goodbye to the other kids sitting beside her. You look to Ruby and give a quick, "Thank you." "It's fine. Oh, I'm gonna need ya to sign their agendas before tomorrow. School policy, y'know?" She gives a quick wave to the four. "I'll see you all tomorrow, OK? Bye!" The four wave back, with Lisa and Megan doing so less enthusiastically. "Bye!" Megan cheerfully replies with a smile, a sharp contrast from her other sisters. You unlock the doors and usher the four in while buckling their seat belts. "I'm not mad at you, honey," you say as you buckle Lisa in. She loudly sniffs as she wipes at her eyes with the back of her arm. You give a small smile to your daughter as she looks at you, thankfully calming her down enough to stop her sobbing. After making sure the others are good, you get into the driver's seat and start the car. You pull out of the parking lot, a part of you thankful you came as early as you did as you notice the line of cars beginning to develop. As you drive down the road, you can still hear the sounds of Lisa's sniffing in the backseat. As you stop at a red light, you decide that’d be as good a time as ever to ask. "So what happened, Lisa?" She sputters a bit, even visibly shaking as you look at her in the rear view mirror. "I... I got into a fight," she finally mutters out. "What did you do?” “I pushed someone down at the playground.” "Why?" you ask, wondering if you need to push each and every single time she answers your question. Her breath hitches as she pauses for a brief moment while wiping her eyes again. "Someone... Someone said something really mean about Sally," she finally admits. Before you could ask more as she takes another moment to breathe, she continues. "She... She said Sally was weird and... and... creepy. I heard her and I went to her and s-said, 'Why did you say that about Sally?' She said she didn't say anything, but she did! I told her what she said, but she kept saying she didn't! And then I... then I...." With your eyes focused on the road, you can't tell what Lisa was doing, but you could hear her begin to sob again before being cut off with a loud sniff. "And... and then I pushed her and a teacher came to me and her." You try to think of a decent response as you focus on traffic, your attention split between driving and consoling your daughter. "It's nice of you to... Try to stand up for your sister, Lisa. But you shouldn't push or hurt people to do so. It just... Makes things worse. You should get a teacher the next time something like that happens." "Is Lisa going to be kicked out of school?" Megan meekly speaks up. You hear Lisa's breath begin to sputter again, so you quickly respond, "No, no, no. That's not going to happen, girls. They'd never do that. It's just... A small mishap. Just don't do it again, and all will be fine. OK?" Lisa loudly sniffs, her breath slowing down before she answers, "OK..." "OK... Now, tomorrow, you got to go apologize to her for pushing her. You should ask Ru- Ms. Ruby about talking to her, OK?" "OK." You let out a sigh of relief as you put your full focus back on driving. The sound of sniffing slowly quiets down as you continue driving. However, Sally's voice breaks the moment of silence, surprising you slightly at her words: "Thank you, Lisa."