Wasted

Chapter 13

First of all I want to thank you again for the reading. 😀 please keep voting massively please please please it means so much to me. Hope you guys still like the story, it's nice to read the comments and messages 👌

I also wanted to say that the chapters lately skipped a day or some time but that's only in the beginning, otherwise it may become boring, in a few chapters they wont skip time anymore (probably) 👍

Sorry this chapter took a few days because I had exams :)

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When I enter my house it's quiet. Too quiet. Only the annoying voice of the weather presenter sounds and the lights are on as well.

I know my father hates it when I keep my shoes on in the house, it seems like he really always 'just cleaned'. When my mother was still here she never put her shoes off either. She was so young, she was 38 when she died but she behaved like a seventeen year old, a normal one may I add, my behavior isn't like hers in any way. I'm boring, she wasn't. You could think Alison is actually her child, she takes after her a lot more than me.

The kitchen is also empty, where could he be? As I open the back door I hear noises coming out of the garage. As I come closer the noises get louder and more familiar.

I lean against the wooden side wall to watch my father Laying under a pick-up truck. The metal is rusted and lost almost all his color, seems like that car's best days are passed.

But I like it, there's something special about that I can't keep my eyes off.

"She's beautiful huh?" My dad asks me without getting his eyes off of the car. "Wait until I'm done with her, she'll be perfect." He says.

"You're selling it after the cleaning work?" I ask.

"Her." He corrects me. "And I don't know that yet, probably."

"Oh." I say. "And does she have a name?" I joke.

"Yea she's called Cleo. " He answers.

"oh really?" I laugh but my dad stays serious and nods.

"So what's her story?" Repairing cars and selling them was his passion, he studied the law but didn't do anything with that, it was just him and his cars. But again things changed when his true love died, he became a lawyer because we needed the money, I didn't want him to stop, I wanted to work if it was necessary but he refused. So now we have no money problems at all, but I'm happy he found his passion back, even only as a hobby. All the cars he repaired before had a story, he knew where they came from and he wanted to give them a new life.

"I don't know." He answers.

"How do you mean? They always have a story."

"Well she doesn't." He says, clearly wanting this conversation to stop.

He's so short, "okay.. I should let you then." I say but it sounds more like asking. He ignores me so I just leave.

I walk up the stairs, straight to the bathroom. This day has been so exhausting and I'm battling with myself if I should just fall on the floor and never get up again or sitting on the cold floor in my way to hot shower with my knees against my chest.

I'll go for the shower; it's the place I think about my life and all the stupid things I did that day, so a lot to think about today.

As my clothes fall on the floor I step into my already hot shower. The drops roll down my body in an attempt to relax my body. After I washed myself I sit down and just stare at the damped glass in front of me.