I sat in my room for so long, just laying about on my bed, that by time I'd decided to get up and do something, and looking at the clock I saw that it said 1:48. I sighed. I've been lying on my bed for FOUR hours!
I got up from my bed and decided I'd still paint anyway, ignoring the fact that my stomach was growling at me, begging me to feed it. I got on the floor and pulled out my art kit from under the bed, along with a fresh canvas, which had previously been resting on the top shelf of my closet. I sat down on the floor and started painting, not caring if I spill any on my carpet. Too bad!
I didn't concentrate on what I was painting; I just let my brush paint over the canvas. I usually planned an image of some sort, or at least had an idea. But right now, all I done was put the bristles to the emptiness and swayed it to my hearts content. And when I was finished, what I'd painted sort of shocked me.
On my once was blank canvas was a red heart shaped like thing, which in the middle had, 'C+J; Forever.' Written in the middle. It was smudged around the heart, and there were stains running through it everywhere. It was hanging loosely off of a broken chain, and you can clearly tell that it once was a necklace. I felt a tear come to my eye.
This was a necklace. This STILL is a necklace, and it's the very one that's in a small box, which has been tossed into an even bigger box, along with things of my Dad's and mine's, which is safely kept in my closet, right at the back.
This necklace was special to me. HE brought it for me right after my Dad passed away, and I'd found out that he was moving away to, 'peruse his career', pft! More like become a famous inconsiderate jerk. He game me the necklace and promised me that no matter what, we'd always stay friends. We weren't seventeen, but we weren't twelve, either. Somehow, I know that he meant it. But somewhere along the line, fame got to him, and he became an ass. If I'd known back then that he was a jerk, I think I'd have gave my ex-bestfriend a hug goodbye, and then chucked his necklace charm in the bin, but not before SPITTING on it!
Once he moved away, he called me every day, for weeks. Until one day, he stopped. And then it was once a fortnight. And then it was once a month, IF I was lucky. And by this time, he was big-time star and was 'Jake Ryan', HOT STUFF on 'Hannah Montana'. It got so bad, that the only time I would hear from him would be through T.V, radio, or 'friends', or whatever. And then, I didn't hear from him at all. For years. His mum would call my mum occasionally, but she was busy, what with family issues, and someone close by being sick, as she explained to mum, but that's hardly the point - the mother can make the effort; the son can't?
I mean, it wasn't just, 'Oh, look! Their best friends! How cute!', it was, 'Oh, better not mess with her, we'll have him to deal with!' We stuck up for each other. Since kindergarten, when our mums met. And then he left me, and ignored me. Right after my dad, when I needed him the most!
I wiped away the leak of water which was threatening to fall from the brim of my eyes and got up. Cleaning up the paint pellet and everything else, including the few paint drops smeared in the carpet, until I was satisfied they were clean enough, I picked up my canvas and walked out of my room. I was gonna put it where I put all my worthless paintings. In the back shed.
I ran down the stairs quickly and headed for the back door straight away, not wanting to be seen by my mum. After I'd put the canvas away, at the very back, mind you, I trudged back into the house, trying to ignore the temptation of jumping in our big, beautiful pool. But I did ignore it, when I remembered what I now had to do.
I have to see when 'it's' arriving.
I walked back into the house and called out to mum. "I'm in the laundry, Honey!" She called back out to me. She's using her, 'Oh-thank-god-we're-on-speaking-term' voice again. I really need to stop putting her through this stress! I sighed as I walked into the laundry and saw mum looking up at me expectantly. "Go on; ask for the bad news, already!" She told me impatiently. I sighed again before saying, "Mum. When is the devil himself arriving? Will Cathryn be staying? I'd like some softening up this time, mum. I'm too tired to deal with it straight out." I sat down on top of the dryer after I'd finished my little interrogation. Mum sighed and put down the washing basket.
"Jade, do you remember how Cathryn explained to me that one of their family members is very ill?" I nodded slowly. This can't be good. "Well, he passed away, and his background, being only half-related to Cathryn, was half Irish. He said before he passed away, knowing it would be his time soon enough, that he wanted to be buried with his great-grandfather in Ireland. And so he will be. Cathryn's going to the funeral, as is Cody's dad, considering he IS Cathryn's half brother and all, and Cody has no where to go. Cathy wanted him to go somewhere where he can be trusted, and where she knows he'll be safe. She asked me to look after him, keep him away from fame and what-not." She explained to me, VERY carefully. I mean, yeah I felt really sad, AND bad for Cathy's half-brother, but that didn't stop me from groaning aloud. Mum looked at me with angry eyes. "JADE!" She shouted, perplexed. "OKAY, OKAY!" I said quickly and putting up my hands, immediately feeling really bad. "Okay. But why can't he go to the funeral?" I asked, truly curious. "Cody was really close to Michael, that's his name by the way, Cody's half-uncle, and this whole process has made him depressed. Cathy doesn't want him there. You have to understand, Jade. Sometimes, not everything is about you. There's worst things out then what happened to you, take for instance, Micheal. He was so young! Twenty six and he's gone due to cancer! That's terrible!" She told me with pleading eyes.
"Mum... I get it! I do! It's really sad about Micheal, and I feel really bad now!" I honestly did. "But how could you say that? That there's worst things- I mea- Dad just di- He left! He just, got up and left!" I continued in a whisper, feeling the tears come back. "Honey," Mum started after she had pulled me into a warm and gentle hug. "Mum, enough. It's okay. Just, I don't want it slowly anymore." I said, interrupting her was-going-to-be reassuring sentence. "Just tell me, cut straight to the chase again. When is he coming?" I continued my question after I pulled away from the hug. She looked nervous before she told me, "In two days." I felt my mouth drop open. But I stayed strong and thought about Micheal, as I continued on with my last question... "For how long?" I asked, barely audible for even my ears.
She grabbed my hand as she said, "Five months, at the very least."
