ella
ella
Ah okay, got it.
I'm Gazell, btw. [;
Mica here
Thanks for dropping by my story
*looks at your username* Oh, duh. ahahah.
No problem! It's great!
I don't read too many stories here, but I'll definitely read yours. I'm really diggin' David's character. "Thanks and sorry, sungit".
i like how you started your story
im Joy btw =)
Thanks, Joy! (:
Chapter One: Advice
Before my dad died, he gave me a solid piece of advice.. "Sweetheart, don't stop searching for your one true love. I only wish that I could have done that. Baby, I don't know if you know this, but I never loved your mother. Sure, I cared for her, but in my eyes there was no connection between us. There was no passion. The only good things that came out of our relationship was you and your sister." The bastard died the next day. I was only ten years old then, but his last words had the most impact on me than anything he'd ever told me. They pierced through my eyes, my brain, my heart..just like a bullet. I was dumb enough not to protect myself and wear a bulletproof vest. He never loved my mother, and it didn't occur to me until that very moment when he looked me in the eyes. I'm pretty good at determining whether or not person is lying, and I knew that my dad wasn't. I suppose those tiny kisses they exchanged meant nothing. The little trinkets they bought for each other often meant nothing. Their love wasn't love at all. Their love didn't exist, and it hurt me. Do you all know what those words can do to a pre-teen? Words like
those eat at your heart like maggots trapped in a casket full of corpses. Words like
those can make you do very bad things to yourself if provoked hard enough.
It's been eight years and I still feel like I'm obligated to never, ever, ever forget what my dad said before he left this world. "His last words" are embedded in my brain. When I'm not thinking about my duties as class president or practicing my Soccer skills on and off the field, I think about..those evil words, which when separated seem quite harmless.
WHATEVER. I'm a Senior in High School now, and I should be enjoying what I've got left, right? In just a matter of months, I'll be out of here, which is what I want, but what I don't want all at the same time. I have to be honest here.. I've definitely contemplated "taking my life". I literally sat at the edge of the bed, pill bottle in hand, crying my eyes out. Well, I guess you could say I have a few good reasons to live. I've got a wonderful boyfriend who (I think) would do anything for me. At least, that's what he said before he tried to get me in bed. Don't worry, nothing happened. You know how boys are when they're drunk. I've got the greatest friends, I'm pretty popular, and I just made the all-regional Soccer team. Despite "having it all", I also feel like I have nothing at the same time.
"Baby? Come on, babe, snap out of it. You've got that dumb look on your face again. It's starting to get annoying." Aaron, my boyfriend of four years, grabbed my hand and gently squeezed at it. He hates it when I go into "daydream" mode.
"Oh, sorry. I was just..you know, thinking." I looked out of the window and sighed. A simple ten minute car ride with Aaron felt like a road trip from California to New York.
"Thinking about your dad again, huh? Babe, stop..for your sake, and for everyone else's. He's gone. Sometimes I wonder if you really miss him. Either you're crying over him, or you're tearing up every picture you find of him around the house. It's been eight years." "Eight years. Hah. Eight years?! It seems like everything happened just yesterday. I'm not mad at him, but I don't love him either. He's not that easy to forget." Aaron raised his eyebrows at me and scoffed in disgust.
"Whatever." I'm not surprised he doesn't care. He never does.
"You wouldn't understand what I'm feeling, anyway. It's just all about you. Aaron, Aaron, Aaron! Aaron, the big Football star! Aaron, the chick magnet! Aaron, oh, Aaron! Your life is so perfect! AAAARRRROOONNN!" No, I'm not crazy (at least I don't think I am).
By that time we were in the school parking lot. After he turned off the ignition, he turned to me and sighed. By the look on his face, I could tell he was mad. What guy wouldn't be? I'm sure no "manly man" would want to be mocked by a person, much less one of the female gender.
"You know what the problem with you is? You-" He was interuppted by a loud knock at the driver's window. "Let's go, Mr. Mvp, Ms. President. You all don't want to be late to class on your first day, right?" I looked at David and reached for the door to get out.
"Wait," he stopped me.
"Do I at least get a kiss?" He stroked my face with one hand and used the other one to hold the hand I set on my lap firmly, yet gently. His easily sweaty palms gave me goosebumps. I pulled away and looked at him.
I used to believe in love. I was so naive back then, and I guess you could say I was a tad bit desperate. I just longed to know the
feeling..the feeling of being loved, cared about, the feeling that people claim to be so powerful. I didn't think Aaron Jacobs would be interested in me. I'm an average looking girl from an average looking family. He comes from a wealthy family and models when he's not playing MVP in the football stadium. Because of him, I won class president. Because of him, coach bumped me up to captain of the varsity soccer team. People voted for me just because they knew me as his girlfriend. Coach bumped me up because he was bribed. They didn't bother to know, much less get along with the girl-before-Aaron.
Love proposed to me and left me at the altar. I want so desperately to let go, but I just can't. I still think everything with him is special. I'm afraid of what will happen if I just give up and let this all go. I'm afraid of going back to the past, where I was unhappier than I am right now.
"No, you don't deserve one. Not now, at least." I got out of the car and walked over to my friends.
