Teenage Dirtbag

32

When the night ended, I made sure I said goodbye to her. She seemed a little upset, but I couldn't help her. I didn't know when or how?

I got home around midnight, carrying a bottle of champagne. I took a swig, walking through the door. "I'm hoomee!" My mum walked in the room, starring at me.

"Harry?" I smiled, pulling her into a hug. She covered her mouth, turning away from me. "Why are you drinking? Harold I thought we were over this mess!"

"That was two years ago mum!" I laughed at her, my silly little fiasco from two years prior was peeking in.

"Go upstairs in your room and get some rest." She didn't even look at me? How rude. "But I'm not tired?" She turned to me, her eyes filled with fury. I could tell she was worried about me, but I didn't know how to tell her to stop.

"Go upstairs and get some rest, now." Something in her eyes compelled me to the stairs, climbing up it while looking back at her. I shut my door, not turning the light on. My head leaned against the door, fist colliding along with it.

.
.
.
.

I rushed down the stairs, feeling myself regain my own energy and sober up. The door bell rang again, numerous pounds on the door following after it.

"I'm coming!" I spat, opening the door to an unwanted face.

"Harry," Mr. Thompson panted, leaning a hand against the door frame. I tilted my head in surprise. Why would he, the person who hates me, come to my house?

I stood back, afraid that he might pull a gun on me. I felt that it would be best to distance myself from a crazy folk like him. I didn't quite understand why he thought it was the right thing to do by shooting a gun in the air, more or less a rifle.

"I'm not here to kill you.." He swallowed, closing his eyes as he stood up straight. I opened the door more, showing my self. I was like a vampire, exposing myself to the light. Only, I didn't sparkle.

"Then, what is it your here for?" I still was befuddled as to why he was here in the first place.

"It's Noel," I looked at him with pure need. I needed to know what he was trying to tell me. I needed to know if she was okay. "What about her?" I said, stepping outside but loosing my balance slightly. I needed to sober up, this was rediculous.

"I can't find her."

.
.
.
.

I called her phone, no answer.

I texted her number, no answer.

I even went to the library, just to see if she was around that boy she had been talking to.

"Did you find her?" Mr. Thompson said while I walked up the porch. I shook my head in sadness, it hurt him the most. Noel had told me how close they are, maybe so were, but I never thought she'd think of running away?

"Where was the last place she was at that you saw her?" He sighed, running his hands over his thin hair on his skelp. "In my car. I picked her up, making sure she didn't end up getting a ride or speaking to you." I couldn't blame him, he was only trying to keep her safe.

"And she.." I pressed on, moving my hand in a circular motion.

"She got inside, went up to her room and when I went to check up on her she was gone." I pulled on my hair, pacing back and forth.

"Might I add, we did have a little argument. That might have triggered her thoughts?" I turned to him in anger. "You think?!"

"Hey it's not my fault I'm only looking out for my daughter! I don't even know you and I'm not sure how she can stand being around someone with their body covered in black ink!" I knew it.

I laughed, turning away from him.

"So this is why she left. Because you judge too quickly! You judge me because I have tatoos, because I like to have a form of art embedded on my body for myself! You don't own me buddy! I can put as many tatoos on me as I want, your daughter will still feel the same way that I do for her!" He blinked, starring at me for what seemed like forever.

"How do you feel about her?"

How do I feel about her? I feel like I can't go another day without hearing her angelic voice. I feel like if I don't ever see her face again, this could blow up in my face and make me regret every chance I didn't take.

I feel like I could have done something, I could have told her something that could've made her stay. I feel like I could've held her more times than anyone has ever held a human being. I feel like I could be a grain of sand, and she could be a full sandbox in a small backyard.

I feel like she could help me forget about my past. I feel like she could give me things I didn't even know someone could give another person. I feel like she could change me, make me a better person then I was yesterday, a week ago, a year ago it didn't matter!

How do I feel about her?

"I love her."