A Cry in the Park - A Bob's Burgers fanfic - by BobsBurgersStories1

A Cry in the Park - Part 34

Hi, guys! This is it; the very last chapter.
I just want to thank everyone who commented, voted, and just plain read it! Your support means everything to me, and I'm so appreciative of all of you :)

Nineteen-year-old Louise lay on her bed, her laptop resting on her raised knees.

It was a Saturday night, and her parents were curled up on the sofa, watching the season premiere of "Winthorpe Manor," which so needed to die already. Bob had said he was just keeping Linda company, but Louise knew that he would soon be singing the theme tune just as loudly as his wife.

Gene, as per usual, was down at the Wharf Arts Centre, where he did part-time temp work, hoping to get a foot in the door, and Tina was in Baltimore, studying creative writing and journalism at college. She actually had a job at the Baltimore Sun newspaper, and spent her free evenings working on her debut novel, hoping to get it published. Louise had to admit, she was impressed; Tina was getting paid to do what she loved.

Louise, still short at 5'3, and still so skinny, no matter what she ate (a trait inherited from her aunt Vanessa, according to Linda), smiled indulgently as her parents' enthusiastic, off-key singing permeated the small apartment. Soon, they would be doing what they thought was rapping and beat-boxing.

Just as she predicted, it came like clockwork, and Louise didn't cover her ears like she usually did. Instead, her smile grew a little bit wider. Sure, they were dorks, but she loved them anyway.

Physically, she hadn't changed much over the years. Her hair had grown to past her shoulders, and she'd replaced her childhood green dress with jeans and colourful T-shirts, leggings and casual button-up shirts. Even now, she couldn't find the time to care about her appearance. Occasionally, when she felt like shocking people, she would get dressed up, and wear some nice clothes, but it was very rare.

She only wore makeup on special occasions, and even then it was powder and mascara. Nothing fancy. She didn't need designer clothes and tonnes of makeup to impress people; she was impressive enough on her own.

Of course, at that moment, she was wearing her bunny ears. Four-year-old Louise had sworn to never take them off, but she was mature now, an adult. Admittedly, she had believed that she would wear them forever, and here she was, slowly weaning herself off them, with a pink beanie that was large enough to cover her ears made of the same material, which was what she had worn during her last year of school. It was getting easier, but she still wasn't ready to go completely bare-headed.

She hated to admit it, but people took her seriously when she didn't have her ears on. If wearing a beanie was what it took to get people to listen to her (brilliant) ideas, then so be it.

Last year, when Tina left, Louise had moved into her room; she loved the space, but it felt a bit weird. She still hadn't gotten used to not seeing it covered in horse posters, and Louise had painted over that awful pink as soon as she could. The walls were now a light green; it looked quite looked quite nice with her white furniture. It felt even more weird not having Tina there; it was her room; she should be in it.

Having no desire to watch the latest snore-inducing, contrived plot twist of "Winthorpe Manor," Louise absent-mindedly scrolled through Facebook. She knew it was for old people, and she rarely, if ever, posted, but it was one of the few social media accounts that her sister had. For some strange reason, Tina posted on Facebook the most, with Twitter a close second. Of course, Louise knew why; Facebook had a higher word count for posts. Tina was too eloquent (on the page) to write short, simple statuses.

Louise frowned slightly; first, Tina had abandoned her and Gene by moving up to Huxley High. Then, Gene had followed suit, leaving Louise alone. She'd spent her last couple of years at school feeling a bit lost. Not lonely, and she definitely didn't miss hanging out with them every day, no sir. Well...