Okay, so this is not my first fanfiction I've written. I used to have two other ones on here, but I deleted them due to my inactivity. And they were a little carroty oops. ANYWAY I really hope that you guys like this one! It's a little different from what I usually write. The first chapter is going to be a little short but I hope you like it :)
CHAPTER 1
Let me start by saying, i didn't want any of this.
I had the perfect life; nice clothes, great friends, parties every weekend, money. Everything; i had everything i could ever want. And i threw all of it away. Not intentionally, but i did. Sure, life got my down sometimes but that's no reason for what happened. I caused it.
I've learned within the past year that most of the time, we get disappointed; i get disappointed. Nothing ever happens the way we want it to or what we expect. We don't get exactly what we want. We only get what we can settle for without a need to complain, because it's simply close enough. It's not exact but we can live with it.
That's not what i thought. I took everything for granted and look where it got me. Living with my father in some town about 2 hours away from New York City. I lived there last year before everything happened, with my mother. We had a big house and a big family, consisting of my aunts and uncles, cousins, and all my friends along with my moms.
It ended too soon.
My dad is rich, too. Don't get me wrong. He would give me a thousand dollars right now if i got up and asked, but i don't. He has a huge house, a four-car garage, and not enough time for me.
He's a professional photographer; quite famous. He has paparazzi here all the time taking pictures, trying to see a sneak peek of his next works. He's constantly off to shows and opening another collection. All of which never happen in the United States. Last month he was in Amsterdam. This week he's in Barcelona.
You could say it's frustrating that he's never here but to me, it couldn't be more of a blessing. I love being alone. I prefer being alone. People cause too much trouble. Trouble that i just don't need or want. I would rather stay in my room for days and nights on end without seeing another face. Sometimes, that's what happens anyway.
I came up here to get away. To get away from all the problems in New York. After the incident, i couldn't stay there. I had no friends left, no one to care. I was left alone and forced to eat in the bathrooms at lunch. But that didn't last long because within a few weeks, i moved here to my dad's.
My mom didn't agree with my choice at first, because my dad never had time for me before. I would come here in the summers with Ashley and we would always have fun at all the parties he threw. So many people came. There was a always a big bonfire, good music, and tons of food.
We, of course, didn't stick around for long. We had found this old tree in the woods we would always go sit under. Since there weren't typically any fallen leaves around the time, we would light candles and play hide and seek. Girls and boys who lived close-by would come a join. We would make friends for the summer, have the time of our lives.
Until one year we were playing down there and one of the kids, Danny, got bit by a snake. We didn't know what kind, but we were pretty sure it was just a gartersnake, nothing too bad. It wasn't like he would die. But, that's when my mom stopped letting me come. She made Ashley and i tell her where we were and why we were there. She was convinced that we went down there to make out. We were 14, afterall.
Anyway, my mom finally agreed when i told her that no one would be coming with me. It would just be me and that i needed a break from everything. Some peace and quiet. Dad was gone all the time, is what i told her. It'll be quiet enough for me to get things straight, i said. Finally, she put me on a bus and here i am.
Our home; his home; is in a small neighborhood. It's probably the richest one in this town. But instead of being 10 feet away from the next house, we're about 40 yards away. There are sidewalks where i can run, but also a good sized forest in the back that i know all too well.
I almost never show my face to the others living around us. I mostly do my morning and evening runs in the woods. I've made trails back there with my bike and from my running so much. Running makes me physically feel pain instead of emotionally feeling it. It helps. No it doesn't. It numbs it.
My dad is knocking on my door telling me that breakfast is ready and that he's about to leave for Spain. I tell him goodbye from behind my closed door and a few minutes later i hear him mumbling into his cell phone as the door closes softly behind him on his way out. It's a never ending cycle.
