My Happy Ending

chapter three

Chapter Three.

The good thing about my new home is that it's quite similar to my old house. We live in a neighborhood that somewhat looks like the countryside that I had lived in back in Hillview.

So after my dreadful ride on the school bus, I don't even walk into my house, but instead I walk into my backyard. See, my backyard is a massive field that continues on for what seems like forever. It's as if there's a massive farmland in my backyard with no houses or buildings in sight. It's actually very beautiful.

I immediately begin to run through the field until I'm sprinting through the grass, forgetting all my troubles and sorrows. Nothing can stop me now, I'm invincible. I spread my arms as I dash, feeling the warm sun shine down upon me.

When I finally cannot run any longer, I collapse, letting myself fall to the ground. I lie in the grass and spread my body out, feeling little thorns sticking into my skin. I stare at the mountains in the distance, watching the blinding sun beginning to set behind it.

"Beautiful," I whisper at the amazing view.

I throw my book bag to the ground and tear it open, pulling out my diary and a sharpened pencil. I browse through the book, glancing over all the pages I had taken up. After reading over previous entries, including the night I met the unique boy in the street, I sit in the same position for what seems like hours, pouring my heart into the diary.

I started keeping a diary after the accident. I had become so isolated from the rest of the world, and nobody could help me. My friends stood by my side throughout everything and I'm very grateful for that, but I just could no longer find the happy girl I once was. My parents forced me to see a therapist weekly, but not even he could assist. The thing is that I'm not good at opening up to people or showing them my feelings and emotions. It doesn't come easy, so one day, I just started to write. I expressed every single one of my feelings on paper, and ever since that day, I've been keeping this beloved diary. As sad as it is, this diary is my best friend; the only one who truly understands me.

Once I spot the kitchen light flick on in my house, I start to trot home. I spot my mother, Amelia through the window, cooking something on the stove. She glances out the window and flashes me a quick smile. I yank open the back door which leads to the kitchen and walk inside, coming face to face with my mother.

"Hey mom," I greet.

"Hello sweetie," she says without turning her attention away from the stove. "We're having waffles for supper!"

"Great," I say with a laugh.

"How was school?" she asks, sounding concerned.

"Not so great," I say, honestly.

She frowns and walks over to me, wrapping her arms around me and pulling me into a big hug. I feel her lips press to my head, providing me with comfort.

"It'll get better, I promise," she assures me.

"Thanks," I whisper, "But enough about me! How was work?"

"It was pretty great! You know what? I think I'm going to like it here," she says.

I force a fake smile, encouraging her. I don't ask where my father, Marcus is, for I know that he's still at work. Ever since the accident, he's been avoiding coming home to his ruptured family. He leaves early for work and comes home late, but I don't really blame him. Our family was once so close, but everything just seems different now. It's so hard to be together as a family without Alex here as well.

I thank my mother for supper, but I tell her to save my waffles for breakfast, and I kiss her on the cheek before I dart up to my bedroom.

Besides the balcony in my room, my favourite feature of the house is having a bathroom that is conjoined to my bedroom. I sink into the warm water in the bathtub, leaning my head back and closing my eyes, releasing all my stress. After ten minutes of relaxation, I jump out of the tub and pull on a pair of warm pajamas. I enter my large bedroom and stand in front of the mirror, staring at my reflection.

Like I said before, I'm not special. I'm not a girl who stands out or is noticed first in a crowd. I'm not overly beautiful in any way. I mean, my nose is too large for my face, my eyes are more of a grey colour than a blue, and I still have scattered acne scars on my skin. My dirty-blonde hair extends about an inch past my breasts, but due to its thickness, I usually leave my hair as it is, letting it fall into its natural waves. I stand about 5 feet seven inches which actually meant that I had been the shortest on my basket-ball team last year. I'm also not an extremely skinny girl. I'm not overweight by any means, but I do have a tummy. Most people wouldn't notice it, but it's always been a small insecurity of mine. Basically, I'm just an average girl I guess; nothing wonderful.

But I am who I am and nobody can ever change that. If I'm going to be loved, it must be for whom I am, and not for someone I'm not. I truly do believe that every single person is beautiful and should never be made to feel any less. That's the way I look at it.

After I finish another chapter of the novel, Safe Haven by Nicholas Sparks, I sneak into my double bed where I pull the blankets over my head and let myself fall into a deep sleep, escaping away from reality and into my dreams.