I Give You My All {n.h.}

Chapter Two

Brooke Spencer

I arrive home and am greeted by my big dog. I crouch down and give him some love before taking off my jacket and hanging it on a hook by the door. I call out for Arralyne whom gives some kind of noise to indicate she's in the kitchen. When I walk in, I find her hunched over the counter with a mouth full of food. She smiles at me and holds up a finger. I rummage through the refrigerator in search of something to eat, but I quickly realize that I'm not that hungry. I guess today just wore me out.

"I heard what happened at the bakery today. Are you alright?" I turn to look at her and close the fridge before releasing a long sigh and shrug.

"I'm fine. It was just tiring." She raises a brow.

"I heard that you were the one to help her out. I hope you weren't affected by that. CPR can be physically exhausting" Her eyes drop to where my heart is and I shrug again.

"Like I said, it was tiring but I'm fine." I begin to walk toward the hall but her voice stops me.

"Noel said you seemed really out of it after they took over for you. She said your breathing was off and your heart sounded strained." I loudly exhale and turn to look at her.

"I'm fine, Arralyne, really. I'm just exhausted. It's been a long day. I'm just going to take a shower then go to bed." I leave her in the kitchen and make my way toward my bedroom without another word. I close the door, allowing Jack inside, and the move into my bathroom. Once I am undressed, I take a long look in the mirror.

You, my dear, look exhausted. You should get some sleep.

I'm already on it. Thanks for the input.

My eyes narrow in on the collection of scars above my left breast. I drag my fingers along the fragmented skin and fill myself frown. I hate these things. Most women have beautiful soft skin covering their chests and I have torn, damaged skin. It's disgusting to look at.

There's a very dark, thick line that goes through the center of all of the scars. It's the oldest, most faded and healed scar. Sometimes however, the oldest, most faded scars, are the ones that are attached to the most rooted, deepest memories.

"Brooke! It's not going to happen. You're acting like a spoiled brat. Stop it!"

I sit back against the seat and glare at both of my parents from behind. My dad is driving and my mom is in the passenger seat. She has her arms crossed and a deep scowl on her face. I'm sure if there was a mirror, my face would look just like hers.

"Mom, I don't get it! All of my friends are going. Why can't I go? I never go to things like this. I always have to tell my friends no because you never let me!"

"Because I said no, Brooke. I can't even begin to imagine the amounts of alcohol and drugs that could be there. It's a party for seniors! You're only a freshman, Brooke. You are thirteen years old." I dramatically huff out of annoyance.

"Mom!" I exclaim with even more frustration. "You just don't trust me. You never do." I can feel the tears gathering in my eyes as my lip trembles. I don't understand why she doesn't trust me. "I'm such a good kid! I do what I'm told, I rarely go out with my friends because I'm always studying, and I'm very responsible. I only have a couple of friends that come over and they are good girls. What more do you want from me?" Anger flashes across my vision and I nearly scream out of frustration.

When I realize she isn't going to respond to me, I turn to my dad. I am a daddy's girl after all. He always has the hardest time telling me no.