Life Of The Party

Something New

"Where have you been?" Yelled a voice too familiar to me. "There's a pile of dishes that are waiting for you to wash them."

"I was just over...."

"I don't care where you were, just go do the dishes!" he yelled. Dry tears fell down my face, I was empty. There were no more tears to fall. They already flooded out of my life when my mom died, I wasn't going to cry over him.

Carefully picking up the pieces off the floor, another glass struck. This time at my feet, cutting deep red lines into my skin. I bit my lip, I didn't want to feel the pain.

"Since you're so sweet, why don't you make some of that seven layer dip for me, I have friends coming over," he sneered at me. That's how it went here, multiple dip making.

I sat at the edge of the tub in the bathroom. It was nothing compared to Luke's palace of a bathroom. I let the blood flow from my foot down the drain as I tried to forget about him. That's why I came back home, because I didn't want to believe I cared. This was something different for me, I was scared that he actually cared back.

The morning was cold and damp, something good was going to happen today, I feel it in my bones, but usually something crucial will happen instead. It was still morning and my dreams were lingering, frustrating me and my imagination. Would I be able to get out of the house the morning without a strike from dad, would I ever be able to get away? I've been trying for too long to be strong and stand on my two feet, but not anymore I got to free myself and the first chance I had was destroyed by that boy who thought he was helping me. Why doesn't he understand that I feel like I bother people just being alive. I promise myself this will be the last day that I have to get up.

Slowly and carefully I was able to get out of the house without any injuries, and with my feet all cut up from last night I was lucky. It took me atleast a half an hour to get to the cafe for a cup of coffee. Once I sat down though I was rushed into a series of flashbacks.

The sun was shining and the birds were singing; the cafe seemed more alive than ever. There was a lady sitting in front of me who looked an awful lot like me, it was my mom. She seemed to be giving me advice, was this the type of lecture you get after sneaking out of the house? Once I was able to tune in I heard her say "whatever you do make sure it makes you happy". My mom looked at me like it was the last time that she'd ever see me and it was. She stood up and left, a gentleman opened the door for her and together they left. I stayed in the cafe for the rest of the day but as a 10 year old I knew I had to get home.

We went to the beach regularly when we were a family. The beach was always busy, packed with families, couples, travelers, and somehow we always were able to get a good spot in the shade of some trees, but close enough to the water. My dad would pick me up and fly me around, while my mom would snap pictures. I would give anything to have those times back.

I was brought back to reality when yours truly walked in. He had a sweater on making me think he isn't originally from around here. In California it's warm all the time and we don't get rain very much, so wearing a sweater in 40 degrees weather is a bit odd. I wonder where he came from and how long he's planning on staying? Really it's not my business, but some part of me is curious. I keep watching Luke as he orders a coffee and a muffin all with a smile on his face. Honestly I didn't know someone could be that happy. I keep staring, that was a mistake though because you know how some people can sense when people are staring at them, well I guess Luke is one of those people. His smile seems to grow as he walks over to my table and I wonder if I'm imagining things.

"Hey," he says nodding down at the chair, "Can I sit with you?"

"Of course," my response seemed to come from another person, raspy and high pitched. I don't know who I'm turning into but she's definitely not me.

"What are you working on there?" he asks, looking at my sketchbook.

"Oh you know just a bunch of random stuff, it doesn't matter," closing my book with such force the table shakes.

"It matters," is all Luke says, "Whatever it is it's what you choose to do, it's you".

Speechless again, I'm numb in the brain. How is it that he always finds the right words to say.

"What are your plans for this weekend?" he asks looking at me sideways.

"Ummm I - I don't know yet," I stutter.

"Well there's this party just down from my house, I was wondering if I could pick you up at about seven?"

I'm speechless again. "What?" I say a bit sassy. The butterflies flew up from my stomach and got caught in my throat. 

"Would you like to go to the party with me?"

"Umm yeh, of course....sure" I stuttered my response.

Later that night while I was walking home, my mind kept going off on the conversation from earlier that day, and my stomach was swarming with butterflies. This never happened to me before. I wish I could share with someone these feelings, someone who could understand this sort of thing. I don't know how much longer I could go on without having someone there who could take some of the weight off my shoulders.