A Million Trillion Billion (What's Eating Gilbert Grape Fanfic) *ORIGINAL*

Chapter 7 - The Day I Died

*Two Years Ago*

"Mom?" I call, running down the stairs. "What Janielle?" I cringe at the sound of my name. "Where's Uncle Dan?" I ask, stepping into the main hall where my mother is fixing her hair in the long, standing mirror. I've always admired my mothers looks, never her personality though. All she ever thinks about is if she looks good enough for my dad. It's so stupid. Why can't she realise that there are more important things?
"I haven't seen him since this morning. His friends from work picked him up." She says, bluntly. "Ugh!" I say in frustration, running into the living room searching for him.
"Uncle Dan?" I call out. "Uncle Dan!!"
"Shut up Janielle! Your Uncle is out, he won't be back until later tonight." My father bellows from his office. I sigh heavily. "Yes Dad." I roll my eyes.

An hour later I hear the doorbell ring. "I'll get it." I shout. I walk down the hall, my mother following close behind. I open the door, to see two policeman standing there, looking very solemn. "Parker residence?" The taller one asks in a thick Boston accent. "Yes. Winona Parker." My mother holds out her hand to the man. "Pleasure Mrs. Parker." He nods, shaking her hand. "Daniel Parker is your brother in-law I believe?" He says, scanning through his notebook in front of him. "Yes, why?" Mom asks. "I'm afraid we have some bad news." The other policeman says.
My chest feels heavy, and my head spins. "Daniel Parker passed away this afternoon." He says, taking off his hat, as a sign of sympathy. I feel my knees shake, and I drop to the floor, feeling my body crumble and my eyes fill with tears. "NO!" I shout. "NO YOU-YOU'VE GOT IT WRONG! IT'S NOT HIM! HE'S OKAY!" I cry. "He's okay.." I can't bear to look at anyone. I fall into my arms, laid out on the wooden stairs. I hear the policemen and my mother talking, but I don't listen. I hear them say sorry but I don't care. I want my Uncle Dan back. It's not fair. What did he do to deserve this?!
My mother tells me later what had happened. I can never forgive those jerks for doing that. I want them in jail. I want them to realise what they'd done and to live in jail until their teeth rot and their eyes turn bloodshot from crying.

*1 Week Later*
After Uncle Dan's Funeral, I promised him that I'd come to see him every year. I promised him that he'd always be my best friend, the one I'd turn to. I also told him I would still keep all his secrets, even though I know they meant nothing anymore. But they still meant something to me.
I hate being at home nowadays. No one ever talks to me. It's horrible. It's like the day Uncle Dan died, I died too.
What's left for me apart from a bunch of useless memories?
I decide to leave. I'm almost 17 now, and I can fend for myself.
In the middle of the night on a Thursday, I pack a small backpack and slide out my window and start the long walk to freedom.
I walk until my legs can't take it anymore, and my hands go numb from the cold wind.
I'm alone, but I don't feel as lonely anymore. Funnily enough.

I sit down on a park bench and start to laugh. I don't know why. I must look like a right fool laughing all by myself in the middle of a field. Messy hair, tired eyes, dry mouth and bad breath. But I don't care. I sit there and I laugh.
I'm finally free. I can do whatever I want. My dad isn't here to abuse me anymore, he's not here telling me to shut up and to clean the house. My mother isn't here to look down upon me and tell me to care about what I wear. Most importantly, I'm free to find myself. I just have to get off this park bench first...

As I walk down the road, I remember all the things that happened to me back home.
The awful punishments my grandma would give me when she came to stay. One time she locked me in a closet all day because I didn't eat all my dinner the night before. My dad used to cackle whenever I showed him a story I'd written that I was proud of and wanted him to see. Nothing I did was ever good enough for him. Ever. He'd hit me and tell me to do something useful with my life, instead of wasting my smarts on an imaginary world. I'd tell him it's what I loved to do, and he'd dismiss it like a fly on the wall. And that's what I was, a fly on the wall.
Nobody cared, they just walked past. Except my Uncle Dan. When he wasn't in the hospital getting treated, when he stayed with us, we'd go out and get ice cream, I'd read him my stories which he loved. We even had these stories we wrote together about adventures we'd have someday. He was my best friend. And I'll never forget that. I'll never forget how much he meant to me.
How could such a sweet, gentle, kind man be related to someone who'd tug a little girls hair just because she burnt dinner, or wanted to go outside instead of do extension homework. That always had me baffled. I never understood.
But I sure as hell I'm glad I had Dan.
And I know in my heart, somewhere I'll find him again. In a friend, or a lover, or just someone I meet.
I know he's out there. Somewhere. And he's coming to save my life.