Summer couldn't sleep that night. In the past, when she couldn't sleep, she usually played with her phone, but that was long gone, just like everything else that used to be her "normal" life. She couldn't even go and wake up Morty. So, instead of sleeping, she lay awake thinking about how much of an annoying stuck-up girl Nancy was, and how much she absolutely loathed the idea of working on the science project, and what an inexcusable ass her grandfather could so often be.
She was actually grateful in a way that Morty had never gotten to meet her grandfather. She highly doubted that he would have even liked Rick anyway, although he would have enjoyed going to see outer space, and all the aliens and crazy sci-fi real-life techno-stuff. She thought about how much she missed teasing Morty, and how she never really let him tease her back. She thought about what she might be doing right now with her life if all of these tragic circumstances hadn't happened.
Don't think about it Summer, her waking brain yelled at her, You've got school tomorrow, and you're going to look like a mess. Her brain was right-she needed her beauty sleep-but Summer couldn't seem to find the sweet spot in order to drift off into oblivion, no matter how hard she tried.
In the end, she wound up heading down to the kitchen and making herself a midnight snack. She got out the cookies and milk, which was a favorite of hers since she was little. She was about to head into the living room to watch TV when she noticed the door to the garage was open.
The urge to investigate was too strong-ever since Rick had sequestered himself in the garage, Summer had been wondering what he was doing in there. Feeling like an intruder, Summer tiptoed down the hallway and gingerly stepped inside.
Surprisingly, the garage hadn't appeared to have changed. It looked just like an average old garage-her father's workstation was there, with all his tools. There were the usual garage-type knickknacks, like a water hose and a weed wacker. The spaceship was there, glinting in the moonlight.
Summer paused for a moment staring at all the different tools her father had used. She tried to recall if he'd ever shown her how to use any of them; she couldn't. Wondering around the empty garage, Summer found herself standing in front of the utility shelf. She began to rummage through, mostly finding old useless junk.
Then she came to an old-fashioned box with a latch-on handle. The box was labeled "Beth's Old Stuff". It was the first time Summer had ever noticed it before; it appeared to have been hidden from view for years behind an old forgotten shovel.
Summer's heart beat wildly as she took the box in her hands. She opened the box with ease, as it wasn't locked, and opened it, wondering what could possibly be inside.
Inside there was only one object: a book. It was an old leather-bound book-but it wasn't just your average book-it was a diary. Her mother's diary.
Summer's hands trembled as she turned to the first page, and began to read the words that had been written in her young mother's handwriting. She had been Summer's age and she was in love.
July 12th, 2003:
Jerry and I dated again tonight. It was beautiful, something I will never forget: He kissed me very tenderly, and was a complete gentleman. Dad found out of course because I got home before he could pass out drunk, as usual. He was however already drunk. If Mom had been here, he would have been given the riot act, but of course, Mom couldn't handle him-and how could I blame her? I can't handle him, either. He smacked me hard across the face until I saw stars, then called me a dirty slut, and sent me to bed without supper. Then, once I'd been in bed, awake because I couldn't sleep, he came up to my room. He reeked of alcohol. He came over to my bed, and just stood there, staring down at me. I pretended to be asleep. He continued to just stand there. It was making me very nervous. I felt his finger touch my shoulder, run it up to my neck and down my neck, and then back to my shoulder again, and trail slightly along my thigh. It almost made me shudder, but I lay very still. Finally, he left. I didn't get any sleep that night.
Summer paused for a second. Was her mother talking about her grandfather? A sickening sinking sensation gripped her insides, but she kept reading.
August 28th, 2003:
I told Jerry that Dad was making me nervous. He asked me why I felt that way. I couldn't explain it to him. I don't understand it myself.
August 31st, 2003:
Dad demands that I tell him what I do when I go on dates with Jerry. I tell him we go to the movies. What else am I supposed to say, that we make out in his car all night? I'm not going to be telling my father that.
September 4th, 2003:
Dad was very drunk today. He kept bad-mouthing mom and how she shouldn't have left us. He spent most of the time doing God-knows-what in the garage. I'll never understand that man!
September 12th, 2003:
Jerry knew something was wrong today. He kept trying to ask me why I was so sad. I couldn't tell him. I wanted to, but I just couldn't.
September 18th, 2003:
Dad came into my room again last night. He touched me on my skin in places I don't even let Jerry go. I pretended to be asleep. He kissed me on the ear with a sloppy tongue. When he left the room I could still smell the alcohol on his breath.
September 19th, 2003:
Something's wrong….Dad's being very quiet today...I'm not sure what's wrong….Did I do something wrong?
September 20th, 2003:
Dad hit me today. He hit me hard. I'm not even sure what I said to make him so mad. It left a scar. He gave me a black eye-and of course, I had to go to school the day after. I don't want to hate my father but I do. Jerry demanded to know what happened to me. I told him I fell. I could tell he didn't believe me.
Summer paused, suddenly finding it hard to breathe. She couldn't believe what she was reading. RICK had done this to her mother? She sat on the cold hard concrete, trying to remember how to breathe. It took a while, but she finally found the courage to continue reading again:
September 26th, 2003:
...I told Jerry about Dad today. Jerry wants to kill him. Instead, I calmed him down and then something magical happened: We made love! I have never felt anything like that before.
September 26, 2003:
Dad knew something was different about me today. He kept staring at me. I didn't say a word.
September 27th, 2003:
Dad came into my room last night. I know he did things to me….and I know they weren't right.
January 1st, 2003:
...My life is over….
...
...I'm pregnant.
January 2nd, 2003:
Dad found out I'm pregnant because I took a prengancy test and he found it in the trash. He almost killed me….and now he wants to kill Jerry….Jerry says he's going to protect me….he couldn't protect me from Dad screaming at me all night….I don't know what I'm going to do...I'm only 17 years old! How am I going to raise a baby? How am I going to finish high school? How do I know it's actually Jerry's and not-?
Summer stopped reading. The book was shaking in her hands. She wanted to throw it but she couldn't; it was one of the last things she still had of her own mother. She wanted to punch something. She wanted to hit something. She wanted to run to the bathroom and throw up.
How could Rick have done this!? She had wanted to trust him, but now, she wasn't sure how she could possibly ever trust him or anyone else ever again.
She placed the book carefully back in the box and left it out in plain view. Then, methodically, she left the garage and went straight to the kitchen. She took out a piece of paper and a pen. With shaking fingers she scrawled out the message:
Rick:
If you are reading this, I am not here. I found the diary in the garage. I know what you did to Mom. I'm sorry, but I can't trust you anymore And I can't stay here.
~Summer
She left the kitchen and went upstairs. She packed her bookbag with as many clothes as she could fit into it. She then ducked into Morty's room. It didn't take her long to find his cell phone, which she also stuffed into the bookbag. She then slipped into her parents' bedroom. Staring at her parents' bed where they once lay made Summer want to cry. She took the picture that was on their nightstand.
The first few rays of dawn were beginning to rise over the horizon when Summer Smith opened the front door of the Smith family house. She didn't bother closing it and she didn't look back. She didn't know where she was heading but it didn't matter. She just kept going.