Pointed Toes

Chapter 1

Dear journal,

Today is my first day in high school... I honestly am not looking forward to it. 4 years of hell begin. All the bullying for having autism, being a nerd, not having a boyfriend, well it all begins today! I just wish my mom was here sometimes... After all she would've made this experience much better. After she died my lunatic of a dad hit depression and all he does is drink. There are times that he doesn't come home for weeks, and I. Well I have to survive on my own. We don't have the ideal relationship, I do call him dad but that's pretty much it. I miss my old life, in Washington. Then I realized that I moved to boring old Ohio.

Later

My legs up in the air - spinning - as if I was a free bird. No worries in the world, nothing pulling me down. My own world, my own universe. Camille's world. A hint of breeze blew through me, my toes pointed - perfectly, like a barbie doll - my tutu with no flaws. It just all feels perfect, every time i'm up in the air every worry shatters away. Of course not every perfect situation lasts for ever. My dad - drunk - came in singing.

"O-h-h Camille, my lov-e-e-e. O-h-h my lov-e-e-e!" he sang, taking a throat full every now and then of his beer. I turned, just enough to get a glimpse of him. 

"Dad. You're drunk, go to bed." I said with a sigh, in a low voice. He just stood there, starring at me, drinking his beer. He was so clumsy, a light feather would knock him down. I walked over, almost not caring enough. However, I do feel sad for him, I just don't show it. I took him to bed, he sat there, drinking with his head down whining about mother. I knew my emotions would kick in, I just walked back to my room, closing his bedroom door gently. 

Do you ever feel like your alone in this world? As if, your basically the only human left. All the others are just aliens. That is how I feel everyday. Alone, living with an alien who needs to be cared for. An alien who is very fragile. An alien who will soon break down and leave you alone. I got off bed and went into the bathroom. I brushed my teeth, making sure I kept my gums healthy. I tied my hair into a bun, not caring if it was perfect. Put on my glasses and my uniform - making sure to have knee high socks - . 

I peeked into my father's room. He was asleep, on the floor. Snoring away, with his alcohol bottles laying next to him. Looking like his gold medals. His only care in this world. As I turned around slightly, I heard a whisper. "Ca-m-m.." he touched his forehead as it probably ached from all the alcohol he drank, last night. He was struggling to speak - of course - the hungover was all over. I pretended not to hear however, being the person he is. He yelled after me, "CAMILLE!". "Why are you yelling, I am not as deaf as you are becoming, you drunk bastard."  I said starting to get angry. He stood up a bit, still laying there on the floor as if he were a drunk hobo in the street. "Obviously I have to yell, you don't fucking respond every time I try to talk with you." My father was once a good man.. He was wealthy, respected and his love for my mother was eternal. Yet after her passing, he turned into the alcoholic maniac he is now.