Walk In My Stiletto Shoes!

Chapter Thirteen.

"Good morning, Brooke." I had been woken up by an unfamiliar voice. I opened my eyes and didn't fully know where I was. Was last night a nightmare? 

"Did you sleep well?" A girl was standing by my bed. Then I realized last night was sadly not a dream. I was at my aunts house and was just woken up her maid. My aunt must of sent her to check on me. The night before started hitting me with bad memories. I did go to a party with Jenn, I did get into a fight with Drake, I did have a misunderstanding with Dylan and I did get disowned by my mother. I now remembered calling my aunt and begging her to get me out of there. So this question is, now what?

I didn't know what to say to the maid so I just nodded. I was new to this kind of life. Am I even allowed to answer her?

"Breakfast is ready downstairs. Your aunt and uncle should be back within an hour, they had a meeting at work."

"Thanks." I said, half smiling.

I crawled out of bed and ventured out of the room on a journey to find the kitchen. The only thought in my head was "must find food." This pregnancy thing was going to have me four times my weight. All I feel like doing is eating and sleeping!

I managed to somehow find the kitchen and I wasn't long devouring my breakfast. I was still kind of hungry. I had a craving but I wasn't sure what it was. I ignored the craving and the hunger feeling because I didn't feel comfortable with snooping threw my aunts cupboards. I decided to sit at the table and wait for my aunt to get home. I seena newspaper on the table. It was my areas local newspaper and it was a couple weeks old. This could only mean one thing. I opened it slowly and started flipping threw reading certain little things, fully knowning what I was actually looking for. Then I found it. 

Micheal James Northup, 56 years young, has passed away last week. Born on December  22nd 1957 to Grandmere and Papere(Laura and Frank Northup).  He was taken from us one cold night while picking his daughter up from skating. When the police and paramedeics arrived at the scene the car was in the ditch. We are not fuly sure what happened due to his daughter, being the only one there not wanting to talk about it, which is understandable.

"He was my true best friend." Brooke did tell us. "He was for sure the best dad anyone could ask for and that's how I want to remember him. I don't want to share what happened because I will see it everyday of my life as it is, I don't need a written reminder of the accident as well. Dad wouldn't want me to feel out of place and being pittied for what happened will make me feel out of place." She explained. We decieded to not question her any further. 

Everyone knew Micheal, he was the owner of the arena. He coached hockey and helped kids learn to skate for several years. We have been told by a few other hockey coaches and players before that he was by far the best coach a team could want.  Micheal was married to Nina Northup and togerther they had a daughter named Brooke Northup.....

I couldn't finish reading. It wasn't a proper obituary, more like a news article. Mainly because I didn't want to write one and my mother couldn't be bother due to her "busy" life. Even still, it hurt to read this article. I closed the newspaper and heard a car door as a tear fell down my face.

A thought hit me as my aunt walked threw the front door. She doesn't know anything about my life since dad passed. This meant she didn't know that I was pregnant. I wasn't sure how she was going to take it.

She came into the kitchen and sat down.

"So do you want to talk?" She asked. I knew she could tell that I had just got done crying. She glanced down at the table, seen the newspaper and frowned. She put the newspaper away off the table and tried to force a smile hoping it would make me feel better.