N.O.

Chapter Six

-Luna-

Two Months Later

It's the beginning of November, my dad had rarely spoken to me in two months. Carlos came home once, he used to always come home to do his laundry which meant he would usually come home on the weekends. Don't get me wrong, I love not having to see him all the time, but at the same time it's felt very strange and weird not seeing him. I'm not saying I miss him, I'm not saying that at all. It's just very weird. I haven't heard from Grace either, I do miss her though. She was great and was like an older sister to me.

After my big outburst in AP Lit on the first day, Ms. Gardner won't leave me alone. She even contacted the counselors and now my counselor wants to meet up with me. I did my best to avoid her for the past two months. I don't need help, I don't need or want to talk about it. I'm fine. At least I will be fine. In one of the notes that a counselor left for me it said that if I won't come see her then the best I could do is write down what I feel, why I feel that way, what caused the feelings I have. Though I don't want to admit that it was a smart idea to do, it might actually be working. I've recently started a journal where I've written down everything that I remember from that night, from the beginning of the day to right before I remembered passing out in his cold hands.

Another thing that had happened was people would not stop making fun of me for my reaction to Brynlee and Weston's comments. I've had people tell me that it wasn't a big deal because the book wasn't even based on a true story. What they don't seem to understand is that though it might not have been based on one real life event, it is based on multiple true cases that have happened. The book told the story of how many rapists and murderers act, which is frightening but no one else seems to understand that. Rape and murder are real life events and they do happen. What do I know though, I'm just a stupid teenager with issues.

I woke up very tired on my desk, I must have fallen asleep while writing last night, my neck was hurting. When I looked up and clicked the spacebar on the keyboard, my screen lit up to where I had left off on in my writing, right before I left for that stupid party. If only the future me could go back in time to tell me not to go to that party. That party ruined my life.

I went through millions and millions of clothes before I finally found a top that was worth wearing. I settled on wearing a white cropped tank top along with my favorite black leather mini skirt and some black ankle-high boots. Of course when I went downstairs my Mom judged me for what I was wearing and called me what she always called me, "te vistes como una cualquiera," which translates to her telling me I'm dressed like a tramp. It's my body, I can dress how I want to dress. I don't dress like this so boys can drool over me. I dress like this because I love my body so why should I have to cover it up or be afraid to show it? Instead of standing there and hearing her call me a tramp, I grabbed my keys and walked out the front door. I walked to my car, hopping in, stuck the key into the ignition and drove off to Indiana's house.

When I get to Indiana's house, I tell her all about how my mom told me I looked like a tramp again. Indiana then started to put makeup on me because she is a makeup goddess. I swear, every time she does my makeup, I don't recognize myself. No, I don't put makeup on to try and impress other people so that they think I look pretty, I put on makeup because I find it exciting to see how different I could look. Not everything girls do is for guys. I just wish my mom and dad would understand that.

Just as I was finishing up that last sentence, my mom barged into my room so I quickly shut my laptop. That would be very awkward if she were to read that, but then again she doesn't really understand english so I don't really have anything to worry about.

"¿Qué haces en pijama? Es domingo, ve a vestirte para la Iglesia," she pauses, "y vestirse como una dama por favor," then she walked right out the door. She told me to go get changed for Church but to dress like a lady would. I haven't worn any of my revealing clothes since that night and she still tells me that I need to dress like a lady even though I would have never worn any of my old clothes to Church anyway.

I got into my closet and picked out my nice, knee length navy blue dress with sleeves to cover my shoulders and put on a white knitted sweater. I grabbed my brown leather purse and matching flats to go with it. This should be Church appropriate enough for her.

I walked down the stairs to see my parents dressed very fancy, as usual, but there was someone missing. "No Carlos?" I asked, confused as to why he doesn't come to Church with us anymore. It's been two months since the last time he went to Church with us.

"Tal vez él ya está en la Iglesia esperándonos, ya que tardó tanto en prepararse. Luna, sabías que hoy era domingo, no sé por qué dormiste tanto tiempo," my mom nags at me, of course she blames me for Carlos not being here. If Carlos isn't here to go to Church with us, there's no way he's waiting for us there either, I don't get why they won't accept the fact that Carlos isn't coming anymore.

We walked into Church looking almost like the perfect family we once were. It doesn't feel right for me to be in here. In this house of worship for God. Does He even accept me anymore? I'm tainted now, but does that matter to Him? I don't belong here anymore. I'm not the same girl I used to be. It's different.