Misery (Justin Bieber)

Chapter Three

I keep having nightmares again. The same one. They keep coming, every single night. I don't know why I keep having these dreams, they seem to just come naturally now. I feel bad that Carol has to wake me up super late at night. She shouldn't have to do that. The dreams are always about my father. The car crash, the police. This time it was me driving. I didn't know what was going on. Everything was a blur. All I could see was me on the side of the road, lifeless and pale. There was blood everywhere. The car was completely damaged. I had tried to turn my head because someone had called my name. The voice was familiar. When I turned my head, a man and a woman were at my side. The man I knew as my father, I could tell by the necklace around his neck that he had always wore. The woman's face was a blur. Could that have been my mother? Most likely not. I never knew my mother, but there is a slight chance it was her. Maybe I'll never know.

She arose from her slumber with Carol at her side, shaking her. She was covered in sweat although it was midwinter, and she had always kept her windows slightly open so she can feel the breeze. It soothes her as it did her father. Becca never talked about her dreams with her aunt, and her aunt would never force her to. Tears had been strolling down her face as she got up and assured her aunt that she would be alright. Carol didn't believe her and she knew that, but she knew her aunt well enough to know that she got what she meant, and she left Becca to herself. Alone in her room, she pulled out the box filled with her father's belongings and pulled out the small wooden box, decorated with little flowers and doodles that she had drawn for him one Father's Day many, many years ago. Inside the box, she reached for a small chain necklace with two rings. The rings represented both her and her father. They each had their own necklace to hold the rings, but after the car crash, Becca stopped wearing her's, so she hooked the ring onto her father's chain and left it in the box, until now.

Becca unhooked the strands and put it around her neck, hooking it back together. She pulled her hair over the chain and held the front of her necklace in her hand.

"Daddy," she whispered, "If your up there listening to me, I need your advice. I'm stuck and I don't know what to do. I keep having dreams about you, bad dreams. Are they supposed to mean something? If you hear me, send me a sign, I love you dad."

She pulled out a small journal that had belonged to her father. It was the journal he used to document his dreams, his secrets. She had never read it, nor was she going to, but she took it and put it on the shelf next to her's. Next, she took out the photos she had shoved into the box and set them gently onto her desk. Shoving the box back into her closet, she slipped a sweatshirt over her head and started heading downstairs with her laptop in hand.

Becca filled a glad with ice and water, and grabbed a bag of chips. She sat down on the couch, pulling the laptop on her lap. She usually had plenty of ideas on short stories to write to pass time when she couldn't sleep, but she didn't want to just write short stories anymore. She knew she had lots of experience with writing. Her father was a writer after all. She had never read any of his books, but she promised him that one day she would. Her mind is blank, she can't think clearly. She wanted to write a novel, to be able to send it in, to be able to have the experience that her father had once had. She had always wanted to be like him. He was such a wonderful person to be around. Becca pulled out her phone to check if she had any messages, even though she knew she would find nothing. After she moved away, she changed her number so she wouldn't have to look back at all of the humiliation that was over her. She always took the blame for her father dying. Her friends left her, knowing that she would never be the same. She had nobody at the time. That's when she knew she was ready to start over.

The thought of starting over struck in her mind as she pulled up the internet browser and searched for the high school Carol had told her about. It was the high school her father had gone to. It was only about 5 miles away. She knew she wasn't ready to start school yet, but she needed to, no matter what. She needed to turn things around, not just for her, but for her father, because she knows this is what he would have wanted for her. Becca printed out the registration papers from the school's website and set them on the counter for Carol to help fill out. She knew that Carol would question her choice, but  she would be happy for her at the same time. She will love that Becca feels she is needed to start changing, to start a normal life again. Becca knows her life will never be normal. She doesn't have parents. She never met her mother. She wishes she did. She really does. Becca has asked Carol about her mother plenty of times. She didn't know much about Becca's mother either, but she had some stories of the times they spent together while she was pregnant with Anne. She was always too embarrassed to ask her sister about her mother. She died when Anne was six years old. Her sister never talked about her mother, and Becca knew it was only because they were really close when she was young. Just how it was with her and her father. Becca did everything with her father. There was never a time were she wasn't with her father. They were happy together. They brought light into each other's lives. When he died, that light was missing for a long time, and Becca wanted to get it back.