Finding Yourself || on hold

Chapter 4- Find myself?

Chapter 4

That next week, I sighed, looking down at my full suitcases. There were two of them filled to the rim with my clothes, shoes, and toiletries. I had my iPod Nano and my iPhone charging in one corner. My coach bag had my passport, birth certificate, and three books in it.

I zipped up the suitcases and propped them against my empty wardrobe in preparation for tomorrow. Tomorrow, I will go to Las Angeles to start my "career." I was still unsure if I wanted to go.

Despite Blake’s message, I had agreed to go with them to California and try to see if I was fit for being a singer. If I went and actually was accepted, I wouldn’t feel like I had failed my dad.

Even though I hadn't left yet, my room looked gloomy. The sea green paint that once looked cheery seemed almost faded. The few pictures I had on my small nightstand were packed away, leaving it bare. I usually had shoes strewn all over; they were now either in a suitcase or in my wardrobe. My usually cheerful room now looked uninhabited, which made me not want to leave.

After staring at the suitcase with the pictures, I sighed and gave in to my inner thoughts. Unzipping the suitcase, I took out a framed picture of my dad. That picture was taken when I was twelve. His light hair was sticking out at odd ends, like it always did. The twinkle in his brown eyes was evident in that picture as he gave a cheerful smile. His face was full and healthy, and he had a nice tan.

That picture was taken before he fell ill to cancer. His face turned slim and pale, and his smiles were less frequent. But, until he died, his eyes were always twinkling with hope and cheerfulness. That was what made the dreams I’ve been having so unreal, since my dad was a kind person.

As I clutched the picture in my hand, I let a single tear stream down my face. I hugged the picture to my chest, but it was only a memory of him. Ever since my dad died, it was like a part of me died too, even though it sounded really cliché.

Finally, I sniffled and put the picture back on top of the piles of clothes, leaving it on the top. I zipped it again and gave a long sigh into the empty silence. Drying the side of my face with the tear on it, I propped the suitcase up again.

“I love you, Daddy,” I whispered.

Slumping down on my neatly made bed, a million thoughts swam through my mind. To rest my brain, I closed my eyes, just for a second.....

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Tap. Tap. Tap.

My eyes fluttered open, disoriented. I slowly sat up from the uncomfortable position in which I fell asleep in and looked at my lime green clock. 2:06 a.m. Even more confused, I rubbed my eyes. I looked all around my room until I saw him in the window.

My best friend, Ryan, was staring at me from outside my window. When he saw that I'd seen him, he started waving and gesturing for me to come.

I half-heartedly waved back, but shook my head. He gave me an annoyed look and pressed his nose against my window, fogging it up. I huffed in defeat. He never gives up, does he?

Stretching out my limbs, I gave a wide yawn.  I put on my green fuzzy slippers and staggered over to the window. With every step I took, Ryan's smile got wider. I smiled inwardly. He may be the star soccer player of our school, but he sometimes resembled a child on Christmas morning.

When I reached the window, I pressed my nose against it, teasing my friend. Even from inside, I saw him rolling his dark brown eyes.

In one swift move, I shoved the old, raggedy window up and stuck my head out. I was met with a cold breeze and Ryan's face alarmingly close to mine. I felt a blush spread across my cheeks. What the heck? It's just Ryan, I told myself, just Ryan. In order to escape those weird emotions, I playfully shoved him out of my way, chuckling.