Love Child

Prologue

I woke up to the sun flowing through my blinds, falling gently against my tan skin and white bed sheets. 

10:30 a.m.

Thursday.

May 18th.

No school, luckily. I would dread actually moving today. After yesterday, I don't think I'll ever move again. Between Brady and cross country I might as well be dead.

That day would be the change of my life. I had decided to actually get up. I got dressed casually in a tee and ripped jeans with the classic converse. Hair in a messy bun and my face barely painted with mascara and dipbrow. I grabbed my camera and bag then headed out, leaving my father asleep in his bed, dreams playing in his head.

I walked down the hallway of the apartment building and down the stairs to the lobby. "I'll be back around 3. Don't let my dad freak." Nessie nodded. 

I pushed the front door open and put my camera in my bag and hopped in the convertible. Off to the coast, beautiful beach. 

Santa Monica. 

My home.

This is where I belong. Out on the road, wind in my hair, the sweet smell of the Santa Monica ocean flowing in the sweltering air. 

You know that song Santa Monica Dream? Yeah, that's what I lived. It wasn't always glamorous, but it surely was wonderful.

I finally reached the beach, the sun above me shining down to kiss my skin. I pulled out my camera and began panning the beach. A few people had come out early to reserve the good spots on the bay. Most would be tourists, more than likely their first time in Santa Monica, maybe even California in general. They were the most interesting to capture on camera. The traveler's joy in their eyes, the gleam of their smiles. It was all so beautiful. 

As I walked the shores, searching for any hint of inspiration, I came across a paper underneath a pile of sand. It didn't look like any paper, it looked like a photo. I instantly took a picture with my artistic eye and grabbed the photo. It was a woman, similar looking to me...too similar. On the back was a name.    

Rosemary Truelove. 

Truelove.

That sounded familiar. 

I stuck the picture into my bag along with my camera. I slung the bag over my shoulder and headed back to my car. 

It was way before the time I told Nessie to tell my father. It was only 12:00 p.m. It didn't matter much though. 

I walked into the apartment building and running up the stairs to my apartment. My father was in the kitchen fixing lunch. 

I closed the door, took off my shoes and grabbed the photo out of my bag before laying my bag down. I walked into the kitchen and sat the picture on the counter. "Who is this?" I demanded. 

My father turned around to look at the photo sitting on the counter, then down at me. "How would I know?" He replied.

"There's a name on the back. And it looks ripped, as if someone was on the other side but they tore them out. The name sounds familiar and she looks crazily similar to me."

"Rosemary Truelove," he read, "2000." 

"That's the year I was born."

"Yeah, I know that." He sat there, eyes fixed on the photo. 

"You know her."

"How would you know?" He glared up at me as he sat next to me. 

"I can tell by the way you look at it."

"She went to high school with me, that's all."

"There's got to be more than just that. You look at her like you lost her. Ooo, is it your high school sweetheart?" 

"No, Vanessa." 

"Is that my mom?" 

Silence.

He looked down. Somewhat disappointed. 

"Yes."

~~~

Chapter songs:

Girls Your Age - Transviolet

Four Walls - Broods