Noticed Only By Him

Chapter 1: Unnoticed

Chapter one ~

"Get in the car Jillian!" my mom yelled from downstairs. "Our plane is leaving in four hours!"

I shook my head and internally groaned. Ugh. I hated riding on planes. They're squishy and smelly and you have no control over the plane. Your life is in the pilot’s hands—someone who you don't even know.

I wasn't in any rush to leave.

My parents demanded I go with them to Florida this year. But it's not because they care about me—it's just that people have started labeling them as bad parents for leaving their only child alone all the time. Little do the neighbours know that my mom and dad are not leaving me alone, but actually forgetting me at home.

My mom and dad can't stand having their social status’ smudged which is the reason why I was now standing in front of my bed trying to close my navy blue luggage.

After a long struggle with the old suitcase, I was finally able to get the clasp shut. I took a glance in the mirror, did a quick brush through my waist-high auburn hair and slowly trudged down the stairs, luggage in tow.

My father put all the suit cases in the trunk and when we were all settled in the car, he turned around to face me, "You know your mother and I can't miss this plane Jill, we have appointments booked early tomorrow morning and can't afford to miss them. Please try not to hold us down, you're a big girl now and should be acting more responsible than this."

I scoffed at his weak attempt of being a scolding parent. He was no role model parent figure. I looked down at my hands and asked the question I already knew the answer to;

"Are we spending any time together in Florida?"

My mom looked in the rear view mirror and answered for him, "Probably not Jillian. Your father and I are busy people. It’s so difficult keeping track of you already. You’ll have your own separate room and the gorgeous state of Florida to roam around in. Go shopping, get a tan, meet some goddamn friends for a change. Just make sure you don't get in our way while we settle our business affairs."

My eyes stung from threatening tears a I felt a small pang in my heart for being pushed aside once again. As soon as the feeling came, it was gone.

Although I was hoping they would let me tag along this time, I knew my attempts were futile—I was used to it.

My freedom of being alone for two weeks in sunny Florida might sound like a “dream come true” for most teenagers but then again, I'm not like most teenagers. I’m—different.

Since I was a little girl, no matter how hard I tried to catch people's attentions, I'd always be ignored or forgotten about all together.

I was never able to make friends, the teachers often forgot I was even in their class and my parents were constantly accidentally leaving me alone in grocery stores—which is why they eventually stopped taking me places and just left me at home.

As I grew older, I got used to the feeling of abandonment—stopped expecting to see my parents in the crowd at my dance recitals—and even found spending time alone fun.

I could stay out as long as I wanted, taking walks along the paths beside my house, reading and rereading the hundreds of books in my room and of course writing my poetry. My poems would never be read but it doesn't matter. I was able to let out all of my bottled-up emotions out onto a page.

I stared out the car window for the hundredth time during the car ride, and wondered what the hell I was going to do in Florida by myself for two weeks.

I've visited the U.S a few times but Florida was a new experience for me all together.

I did some research and it said online that the temperatures tended to be very warm, with high humidity rates, so I threw in all the shorts I owned (weren't very many) and shoved some tank tops and t-shirts blindly into the luggage while I was packing.

I didn't want to go on this trip. It would only remind me that every place on this earth I went, I didn't matter to anyone. What I wore wasn't going to be important because I knew that nobody would give a damn even if I went streaking on the beach boardwalk.

Not that I would ever try that.

An hour later we arrived at the airport. I immediately got out of the car and let out a long stretch.

Another three-hour car ride like this was something I was not looking forward to on the ride home.

My dad let out a grunt while he lifted my mom's luggage out of the trunk. I smirked. She must have over packed again.

He was just about to close the trunk when I poked him with my index finger.

"Dad?" I said in barely a whisper.

"Huh?" He asked, turning to face me. A look of surprise came over his face and he let out a low chuckle. "Oh Jillian, you were so quiet on the way here, I could have sworn you weren't even there! Haha. What is it darling?"

I started tapping my foot on the floor, getting a bit annoyed with his cover up excuse that he was trying to pass as humour. "You left my luggage in the trunk."

His lips made an 'o' shape as he lifted the trunk above his head and quickly pulled it out.

I muttered a quick thank you and walked through the glass doors of the airport.

In the next hour we had checked our luggage in, gone through security and made it to our gate with only a few minutes to spare.

When I boarded the plane, I pulled out my ticket and began searching for my seat.

“Oh joy” I sarcastically thought to myself when I looked at the seat I was going to be sitting in for the next three and a half hours.

I was going to be sitting at the very back of the plane while my parents were in the front, in first-class, of course. The man I would be beside had already fallen asleep and was currently drooling on my headrest.

Did I mention I hated planes?