Gone

Chapter Two

Chapter Two

"Holland!"

The shout jolted me out of sleep. With the sound of my alarm, mixed with my father's shouting, I was wide awake.

Groggily, I untangled my legs from the twisted sheets and sat up. I hadn't slept too well and probably looked like a mess.

"Yeah, yeah," I murmured and tried to rub the exhaustion out of my eyes. I stood up, cleared the ritual head rush I got and walked down the stairs. Dad was cooking eggs and French toast at the stove and managed a half smile when I entered.

I ran a hand through my messy, tangled blond hair and collapsed into the chair by the table.

"How did you sleep?" Dad asked in a monotone, he was probably hung over. He'd been out late last night in the city probably drinking it up with his other washed up friends. And I knew the signs from all the other times he'd woken up like this. Which was usually everyday.

"Fine," I replied, which was muffled because my head was in my hands. A plate was placed in front of me and my dad took a seat opposite.

I didn't like being at home very much and spent most of the time at my friends house or out wherever my friends invited me. Everyone seemed to flock to me when I go to school and I was happy for the distraction.

Dad grunted, and I heard his utensils clink as he cut his French toast. A headache was already setting in for the day. I considered saying that I was sick; not too much of a lie, but decided against it and promised I would muscle through the day. Missing school was something I swore not to do unless I couldn't move. My mom had always said school was important and I knew it was.

Even though I didn't like school much, it was important to get into a good college and have a good career. Learning for me was just hard I guess, or just trying to grasp something new. But I kept up my grades as best I could.

I quickly ate my food and chugged my orange juice along with some ibuprofen. I dressed in the school uniform and fixed my hair so it was presentable.

Another day of school and of acting like everything was okay. Trying to get out of this town was hard, because so many families had been there for as long as they could remember.

"Bye, Dad!" I shouted as I put my bag over my shoulder, "I have church so I won't be home until past nine!"

"Okay," he answered. My dad worked until five or six and then usually went to the bar until he felt like coming home. He didn't have to leave until 9:00 so he had a few hours.

I quickly unlocked the front door and left. Sometimes I just wished I didn't have to be in that house. 

~

"Holly!" Someone shouted the instant I exited my car. I sighed, my head already pounding.

"Hey, Emma," I turned and flashed a genuine smile at her.

Ever since my mom died two years before, nothing seemed to draw my attention much. I tried to keep things normal and to myself. Usually I wanted to know about other people's problems and cared about them. People came to me for advice on things and I tried to help them out to the best of my ability.

My father wasn't much better off. He worked all day and then got drunk and did it all over the next day. During his conscious drunk hours while I was home, he'd yell and be in a rage that didn't always go well. Dad never hit me, but threw, hit and kicked things in the house.

"Did you hear about the new girl?" A bobbing sea of fiery red blocked my view of the gates.

"What?" I asked, I didn't know about any new student.