"Mom for the last time, yes I know what I am wearing, and no you don't have to drive me to school." I said amused as I rolled my eyes. I understood my mother's feelings; she just wants to be the mother that I had grown up without, and I was proud that she was truly trying.
"I'm sorry Em; I am just excited; my little girl is all grown up," My mom gushed as she walked out of my room.
"Dinner will be ready soon." She said added on her way out.
My mom always treated me like a child, even though I am 16 years old and much more mature then a lot of girls my age, I guess it was just a mothers way of saying she cared.
I will let her go this time, I really felt like I needed a little more comfort, for tomorrow is my first day to East Bay High School, and to be completely honest I wasn't so much as nervous, I was panicking.
It's not that I'm shy or worried I won't make any friends, I just am missing all my old friends back at my old school, I feel like I'm betraying them all by coming here, and making new friends, all those memories of being there will stay with me forever.
I'm more worried about forgetting, about all of it, my father, my old life, I don't ever want to lose that.
I have lived with my dad for the 14 years of my life; the other two was when I was first born, when my parents were still a happy family.
I had craved to be able to have that again; to be a family, but obviously something had gone wrong, and it just made me more curious; my father would never tell me exactly what had gone wrong. It was always an 'I don't know, some things don't work out like you want them to.' Or a 'That's in the past, let's keep it there'.
After he died last week I had learned a whole new meaning of pain.
I shivered at the thought of what I had to go through that night. The agonizing pain, and loss I felt as I made myself lay in my bed in an empty house knowing my father wasn't there to protect me, and he never would ever again.
I now have to stay with my mom for a while at least until I'm of age to move out and be on my own. It's not that I didn't want to live with her, I just didn't want to be there for her to worry about me, and I was fine being alone. Plus as much as it pained me to say I didn't know my mother at all.
Of course I loved my mother, but she was a lot to get used to, my father was so mature, and always a gentleman and everything he said was always proper. He was the man who made me who I was today, and now he's gone. Forever. Pain swelled in my chest again at that thought, but I caged it in, I was tired of the tears.
My mother she was giddier, and girlie, she acted more like a teenager then me sometimes, but it was funny to watch. Sometimes I wished I could be more like her, she could hid the pain, just lock it away as if it wasn't even there, but I knew it was, I could see it in her eyes the day of the funeral, and when my father was ever brought up.
It still shocked me to this day that such opposites could find love, they were both great people, and even though I always felt like my father and I was connected on an even deeper level my mother also had something about her that just made us click.
Although my parents aren't the only ones that would cross my mind, there was always someone that would just leap into my thoughts from time to time, and I was filled with sorrow every time.
My older brother Johnny, I had stayed awake for hours at night wondering what he had been like, if he was mature like our father, or crazy and outgoing like our mother.
I was 2, and Jonny was 18, when they had a big fight, and split up, Jonny ran away that night and was never found, even to this day his body was never found, but I try to not think about that as much as possible.
The thought still gives me chills, and fills me with sadness, for I will never know about my brother, the one to look over me, and protect me, I ached for that kind of feeling.
"Em," My mom called from the kitchen knocking me out of my thoughts, and I shifted on my bed to turn towards the door.
"Yes?" I called back shaking my head a little to clear it.
"Can you help me with dinner?" She asked sounding a little frustrated.
"Sure." I said sliding off my bed, and walking down the stairs and into the kitchen.
My mother wasn't the best cook, and I was very eager to try and fix our dinner before we ate. But I understood my mother was very spoiled during her childhood, she never had to cook dinner for her parents and they never had enough time to teach her, this was why she liked me having the chance to cook when ever.
I looked in to the big pot warily, nervous to what I might find this time, some of the possibilities made my stomach clench in sickness.
"Is this vegetable soup?" I asked unsure as I saw the yellowish water, and the grey clumps floating around in it.
"No it's mash potatoes with gravy." She said glumly as she looked into the pot with me.
"Oh … don't worry mom you'll get it." I encouraged.
She smiled at me halfheartedly, and then signed.
"How bout you finish dinner tonight Em, I think I ruined it enough?" She said laughing weakly as she handed over her big spoon.
"Really are you sure?" I asked surprised.
She loves cooking for me, and would never let me cook for her, it was another part of 'being the mom I've never had' thing.
"Yeah, I need a break anyway." She said, walking to the living room, probably to get back to reading her books.
My mother had a strong passion for reading, and was working on becoming an author, while she keeps her job as a nurse at Florida's best, and only hospital.
"Ok." I said eagerly.
"I think I'm going to check out that cook book again, I think I did something wrong." She called out to me, and I bit my lip to hold back my laughs.
She had bought herself a cooking book the day before I had arrived; she said that if I tried eating one of her meals before she had read the tips in the book I would have puked my guts out.
Just the thought of someone that couldn't cook was amusing to me, it wasn't that hard, my father had taught me how to when I was twelve.
I think my father even cooked for us when we were all a big family, the thought was painful to remember, and it pushed another one into my head that had me in agony.
As I stir the weird looking mash potato's I thought back to the time my parents were fighting I could remember this like a nightmare.
"Look Cindy, I can't help that I work all hours of the day while you lie around and do nothing." My dad yelled.
The living room had always been a light cheerful place to me when I was young but as pelts of hail, and snow hit against the windows it gave the inside an eerie look. Coldness set in the air making shivers to crawl around on my skin.
"I have plenty of work around this house, plus my schooling, the bills, and the house work, I never see you doing any of that." My mother snapped.
My father was pacing the room in harsh steps, and would stop and glare at my mother with a coldness in his eyes that had me shaking in fear.
I was at the moment behind my brother Johnny, and peeked out to look at them in fear.
"In all my years I have never met a woman so…lazy, good for nothing, and couldn't even make microwave popcorn if her life depended on it." My father hissed loudly and I jumped.
Jonny turned around and picked me up and backed away slowly his eyes held nothing but protectiveness, concern, fear, and anger.
My Mom started to throw things at my dad which he dodged perfectly, and that's when the threats and loud yelling started.
Jonny ran to his room with me still in his arms, and set me down on his bed as he wiped away my tears.
"Be a good girl for me Emmy, I got to go, but I'll come back and get you when I get the money I promise." He said with tears in his eyes.
I nodded, tears running down my face.
"Jo Jo." I said.
"Yes Emmie?" He asked sadly.
"Here, please don't forget about me." I said giving him my favorite plastic teething ring, shaped like a key.
He looked like he was going to fall to pieces in that moment and gave me a gentle hug.
"Never." He whispered.
He took it then turned to his window.
"I'll never forget you, bye Emmy remember that I love you." He whispered then opened his window, and jumped out the window and into the worst snow storm of the year.
A few minutes later my dad came in the room and picked me up, then my mom came in.
"Put her down Steve." My mom yelled.
"When was the last time you fed her, bathed her, changed her, put her down for a nap, or even played with her?" My dad said his voice getting louder.
My mom didn't say anything for a long time.
"I told you I didn't have the time to do it all this month, I said I was swamped with schooling, and all the things going around that's why Josh stayed around to watch her." My mother defended.
"Don't even have time for your own daughter, and you call yourself a mother." Steve spit.
My mom looked away with tears falling down her face.
"I have to do this it's what's best to keep this family alive." She said sobbing now.
"By neglecting your children, by putting your child last on your important things list, that's not right Cindy, Emily is the most important thing in my life and I will not have her being raised by a mother that can't even put her own child over herself, we are done… it's a wonder Emily is even still alive… goodbye forever." He said then walked with me still in his arms out of the door and into the night.
I heard my mother's shrill pleads, sobs, screaming, things breaking, but the one thing that I could remember the most clear was that my mother's heart wasn't the only one that was broken, my father's was to.
My father still loved my mother, I know that, and I know that he never stopped after he left, so why did he leave, I still have no clue as to why.
I was so absorbed in my memory that I hadn't noticed that my mother was standing right by my side waving her arm in front of me.
"Emily Elizabeth Smith you have been stirring that pot for 20 minutes." My mom said worried as she watched me.
"Oh sorry I was just thinking." I said still a little dazed from the flashback.
"About what?" My mom asked looking concerned.
"Umm … school, you know friends, mean teachers, hard tests things like that." I lied smoothly.
Talking about dad always upset her, which hurt be even more, so we never talked about it, she still loved him, and it was just as hard for me to talk about him as her.
"Don't worry Em you will make tons of friends." She said hugging me tightly.
I never had trouble making friends I would always have to many, if that's even possible a gift that I had gotten from my mother, my father was much more reserved.
I hugged her back lightly unable to help the motherly feeling that I could feel coming off her.
"I'm more worried about keeping up with all the other kids." I said not really worried at all.
"Em you got straight A's since kindergarten." She said proudly. I blushed.
"I still worry." I said trying to hide my embarrassment.
I quickly added a few touches to the mash potatoes, and grinned as my mother watched closely.
"Dinner is done mom." I said putting the things on the table and getting out the plates.
"Ok Em, good job, it smells great, and looks like mash potatoes." My mom said sitting down.
When she tried it she frowned, and panic hit me, did I make it worse?
"What's wrong mom, did I do it wrong?" I asked worried.
"No, Em it's just… your mash potatoes are way better than mine, it looks like you've saved dinner once again." She said with a weak laugh, but I could tell she was upset by this..
"What no way, yours will always be the best all I did was add a few things." I said quickly with a smile to her.
When she was upset it made me feel upset, and guilty, she is trying her best to make me happy here with her, plus with me being here it hurts her even more because I remind her of my father, and that night.
She grinned now seeming to feel better.
"Oh really?" She said with a smile that I couldn't read.
"Of course." I said matter- of- factly, as I took a bit of my mashed potatoes.
"Thanks Em that took a lot to say that, but I know you're lying." She said taking another bite with a smug grin.
I looked at her surprised with a raised brow.
No matter what she could always catch me lying, almost no one could but her, and one of the closest friends I've ever had Lucy Mist.
She moved last year, which was the hardest thing I ever went through, it was like being taken away from a twin sister.
Even thinking about it caused me pain, so I turned my thoughts to a different subject.
We ate in a peaceful silence which was fine with me, of course Cindy loved to chat about her job at the hospital as a nurse so she would always talk about her days which were fun sometimes, and I had to admit though I knew I would not want to be a nurse at all.
It seemed like it took a lot of patience, patience that I don't have, I have always had an explosive temper, which my father made sure that I controlled quickly, and it worked most of the time.
But I was never really pushed too far in the anger department so I didn't know what would happen if I ever got to angry, the thought of blowing up sounded like the closest thing to me if possible.
When we finished our dinner Cindy order me to go get ready for school tomorrow.
"But what about the plates don't you want any help cleaning up?" I said with a frown.
I hated doing the dishes, but anything to get my mind off of my father.
"I'll get them tonight Em, go on I might be old but I think I can handle cleaning up." She said pushing me to the stairs.
"Well all right, and you aren't old." I said happy, but reluctant.
"I suppose so, I guess I just feel old, well go one Em get ready for school." Cindy said with a grin and went back to washing dishes by hand.
I jogged up the stairs and tried to calm myself down as I realized that when I woke up in the morning I would be going to a whole new school, with new kids I didn't even know, so I ended up deciding on a quick shower to relax me.
With my long hair blonde hair that reached my ribs it always took me longer to get it washed it was pretty thick, and it always smelled like my sweet Jasmine shampoo no matter how long or short of time I wash my hair.
That reminded me of how my father had brushed my hair every day when I was little, and he would always complain about me being cursed with his thick hair.
After a nice warm shower I brushed my teeth, I put on an old t-shirt, and my soft flannel colored pajama pants, and went to my bed.
When I was tucked under my covers I looked around my room for something to do to calm my nerves so I could fall asleep.
My room has changed completely from the time I was born. The walls were yellow, my carpet was a brownish color, and my crib had been set up in the very middle of the room.
Now with pink walls, and pure white carpeting, I had a small bed, and all the books I have are above my bed on a bookshelf, and the window outlooks the front yard, I brought my bean bag from home putting it in the center of my room which my dad bought me before he died, my old TV sitting on my dresser, and of course my stereo.
I haven't really had enough time to go through my room, or get used to it, but the bed was comfy, and the beautiful moon was gazing at me through my window, that was something you never saw in New York, so it's presence calmed me, an filled me with happiness.
I tossed and turned under my covers until I began to think, and after a few minutes of deep thinking; wishing tomorrow wouldn't come, wondering what this was going to be like, and hoping that I would magically become sick when I wake up in the morning I finally fell asleep to a dreamless sleep for the first time since my father died.
But it wasn't completely blank there was a small light, as if someone had lit a candle in a dark room, the light held a warmth to it, and all I wanted to do was go closer to it, embrace the warmth, and I watched in a daze as the flame changed colors, from red, to blue to green, but it would always come back to its original color, I didn't know what this dream meant, but I was just relieved it wasn't the nightmares I had be suffering for days.
When I woke up I felt strangely excited, the dread I felt for the first day of school was gone for some reason, but I didn't complain, I held onto the feeling with my life, praying I wouldn't lose it.
I walked to the bathroom, took a shower just to get myself awake, and after getting out I brushed my teeth, and then went to my closet to find the perfect outfit to wear.
I decided to wear a pink skintight tank top with a light button down jacket that's sleeves stopped at my elbow and that I left unbuttoned, jean short shorts, and a pair of pink sandals my dad had given me the night before his death.
The thought made my insides turn to ice as I imagined his ghostly pale face as I said my final goodbyes to him. I brushed the thought away, wanting to move on from the past, and just look ahead today.
I looked in the mirror and brushed my hair, and put it in a ponytail, but no matter what I would still look like any other teenage blonde haired girl, with boring brown eyes, who has a normal height, skinny, with very tan skin, and comes with an explosive temper.
I wouldn't call myself a hideous monster, but I wasn't a goddess.
I grabbed my book bag off of my chair, than jogged down the stairs to the kitchen to find there was a note on the table.
I'm sorry I had to go to work earlier today, have a great first day. I love you loads. Mom
I put the note in my pocket, then grabbed a pop tart, and went to my pink mini cooper, taking a second to admire the color; my father had done the paint job himself, it looked just as nice as if a professional did.
I had already memorized the way to my school, only a few miles from an old graveyard.
I heard many stories saying the school was haunted by the ghosts in the graveyard, but I never believe in ridiculous stories like that, but it was amusing to listen to how scared people got about the stories, an how serious they were. I heard it was the only reason not a lot of people wanted to move to East Bay High.
But I still can't help but wonder if this school is really going to be the most amazing school in Florida, and that I am so lucky, and brave to be going.
Lucky to leave all my closest friends behind, and move to a completely new school, yeah I'm so lucky.
As I pasted the old cemetery I couldn't help but slow down and gaze at the slightly scary looking grave stones. I normal would have shrugged it off, but there was something about that cemetery that made the hairs on my arms stand up.
When I was about to look away my eyes caught a figure moving slowly around the graves.
Fear crawled up my back as I watched it, and I felt my feet twitch towards the gas pedal, wanting to peel out of there as fast as I could, but I paused.
As it came closer I could tell it was a boy, he looked about my age, but I couldn't really tell what he looked like. He seemed to walk with no fear, yet his moves were sneaky.
Just another boy that probably just wants to trash the cemetery and break things like all guys did.
I quickly speeded on feeling better that the old graveyard was now behind me.
Wonder who that boy was playing around in the grave yard?
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