My Godfather is Who?

Chapter 1

I'm Stella Miller. I have blonde hair, green eyes, I'm kind of short, and have pale skin. I'm a fifteen year-old "emo" or so I've been labelled. I'm a sophomore at Lakeside High School in Florida. I'm an only child. My parents and I are fairly close. This story that you've stumbled upon is one of a girl who lived her own Hell. She's been called a fighter, a rebel, an "escape artist" as one of the nurses described her, a suicidal maniac. But they're all wrong. All I am is me. I'm only Stella Miller.  Find out for yourself. I'd maybe except the term psycho. This is my story. 

How did it all start? It went something like this....

I woke up to a still and quiet house. Rubbing the sleepiness from my eyes I climbed out of bed and blasted my The Trapped play-list on my I-pod in my ears. Did I forget to mention I have an obsession with Alex Reed a.k.a. the lead singer of The Trapped, a punk rock band from California. I headed into the kitchen expecting to smell waffles or something and see my mom at the stove, but I didn't. There were no waffles and my mom wasn't there. In her place there was a note on the fridge. It read;

Dear Stella,

Went to the store with Dad. Be back soon. There are pop tarts in the pantry if you get hungry. 

Xoxo – Mom

I smiled and retrieved two packs of strawberry pop tarts. Yes two. I'm a growing girl and I get hungry!

After pouring a glass of orange juice and unwrapping the pop tarts I sat on the couch and flipped on the TV. Nothing good was on so I checked twitter, Tumblr, Instagram and Facebook to see if there was anything new from Alex Reed. Same. He updates with a few funny tweets and that's it.

I check the time to see that its 12:03p.m. and I woke up at 9ish. Shouldn't my parents be home? The ringing of the phone distracted me. That's was probably them now. I don't recognize the number, but it could be important so I answer.

"Hello?"  I say.

"Hello, is this Stella Miller? Daughter of Doug and Marry Miller?" a man's voice says. It sounds familiar.

"Yes. Who is this?" I reply.

"This is Officer Fred Stevens. I am calling to inform you that your parents have been in a serious accident. Your father was killed on impact and your mother died shortly before the ambulance-" Officer Stevens said more, but I could no longer here what he was saying. I was in too much shock. I dropped the phone and ran to my room. Under the slightly cold covers nothing could hurt me. Tears streamed down my face and threatened to drown me. I didn't care though. I hoped I did drown. I pulled out my emergency blade...yes, I self-harm. I have since last year when kids at school left a note on my locker calling me an emo fag and telling me to die....I haven't used it in a while, but now I drag it over my fading scars.  Hello old friend....

I wanted to stay shut in my room the rest of my life, but someone wouldn't stop knocking on the door. I looked out the window to see a police officer standing there expectantly. I went down stairs and opened the front door. "Hello Miss Miller. I believe you remember me from our conversation earlier. I blinked at him. "Are you ready to go?" he asked glancing down at the baggie t-shirt and shorts I called pajamas that I had on. "Go where?" I asked, my voice cracking. "Well as I said on the phone I've come to get you to discuss where you will be living and funeral arrangements." I looked at him like he was crazy when he said this. I nodded and ran to my room. Quickly, I shrugged off my pajamas and put on a Panic! At The Disco shirt, skinny jeans, and a black hoodie.

When I came out of my room Officer Stevens had seated himself on the couch. I took a last look at the house, wondering if this would be the last time I'd see it. Probably not, but still. I didn't say anything as he led me to the patrol car. I was still in shock that all of this was happening. The drive was silent as well. Officer Stevens tried to make conversation, but I never replied.

Finally we arrived at the police station. Officer Stevens lead me in a room near the back of the small station where my Aunt Marie sat. I hoped I didn't have to live with her. She's my mom's sister and they never got along. "Ms. Taylor is here to discuss Funeral arrangements for your mother, her sister and latter we'll discuss the issue with your father's mother for his." A different officer said. Her name tag read Officer Chavous. "What about where I'm living?" I asked. "You will be staying with Ms. Taylor until the funeral, then your Godfather will come get you. If you have any other questions ask your aunt on your own time. Any questions Ms. Taylor?" Officer Chavous asked. Aunt Marie shook her head and we went on with arrangements. My grandmother came in a few hours later and planned with us. It was going to be a double funeral. Which meant twice the preparation and twice the pain.  We worked everything out and they said we could go home.

Everything seemed to happen so quickly. I went and packed up everything at my house and moved it to my aunts. I was allowed to take some things of my parents if I wanted. I took a few of my mom's favorite necklaces and my dad's striped tie that I used to swear looked like a Gryffindor tie from Harry Potter. I even wore it for a Harry Potter movie release party once. I also took an old album that had my parent’s wedding photographs and pictures from my early childhood. I couldn't bare to take anymore. They said the rest was for my aunt to pick around at. She was my closest relation apparently. As soon as we got to my aunt's house and carried most of the boxes to the guest room I went to bed without dinner or a word to Aunt Marie.