Lost Love

Chapter Three

This, this is not okay. He shouldn't even be here. 

"Get away from me, you are not my father. You gave up that right as soon as you left my mother and I," I spat out. He left when I was about 5 years old. I didn't even know. The old 'I'm going for groceries' trick. I'm STILL waiting on the chocolate milk he promised me.  

" Awh, Son. You know I'll always be your father. You're just like me!" He shoots me a wink. I feel absolutely disgusted. I am NOT like my father. 

My mother walks in, a sad smile is plastered on her face. I can sense that she's extremely uncomfortable, she hates my father. I guess she has no choice but to let him in, he's a manipulative person. 

"Hello there, sweetheart," he smirks at my mother. 

Just then the news flashes on. *Attention citizens of Brooke side, Texas. We have found a lead to the killer of Emily Smith. Please keep your eye out for a young man, he's about 5'11" he has brown eyes and blonde hair. He will show no remorse.* With that the T.V cuts off. 

"Honey, are you okay?" My mother walks over and touches my arm, pity laces her voice. 

"Yeah, I'm fine." I can feel the lump in my throat start to form, the tears fighting to leave my eyes.  I bolt to the stairs and to my room. I slam the door to my room and throw myself onto my bed. 

I finally let the tears fall, it stings my cheeks. I let out ugly sobs. I can't control my breathing, I rush around my room until I find my inhaler, asthma man. It kills me. I'm crying for about an hour, stuck in fetal position. My mom barges into my room. God, the look on her face kills me. 

"Hey, boo," she says, again with the same damn sad grin. 

"Hey mom. Would you mind leaving the room? I'm uh, not exactly in a 'people' mood," I reply, motioning for her to leave with my hands. 

"Sure darling, just tell me if you need anything," and with that she loiters out of my room, closing the door behind her. 

Thank god. 

I sit up, knees to face, hands wrapping themselves around my legs. I rock myself back and forth still attempting to calm myself down. The suspect they described sounds a lot like me...why? Damn, I can't wrap my head around that, it's odd. 

I grab my towel and a pair of basketball shorts. I mope over to the bathroom so I can shower, that's exactly what I need, a hot shower. Once I reach the bathroom I start the shower and rip off my clothes, they're suffocating me. The water is so hot, it's like a dragon is breathing fire right onto my back. I don't care though, it distracts me from the grief. 

I still can't get the words from the News Host off my mind. He described me. I chuckle to myself. To think, maybe they thought I did it. How twisted is that?! Wouldn't surprise me, reporters always want a good story. The whole Boyfriend killed Girlfriend plot. I'm in tears by now, my laughs are actually bringing cramps to my sides. 

The moment subdues and I finally finish my shower. I step out and start humming this little jingle to myself, I can't remember what it's from for the life of me. 

So fresh and so clean clean. 

I step out of the shower and dry myself off. Once I finish brushing my teeth I rush back downstairs so I can eat. I feel sick, because of the crying, though I still feel so hungry that I could eat a full elephant! 

"Your father left," my mother exclaims. She tries to remain calm, but I can tell she's practically jumping with joy. 

"That's fantastic!"

I skip over to the pantry and grab two packs of chicken mama noodles ( A personal fave ). I wash a little pot and continue to fill it with water afterwards. I wait about five minutes until my noodles are done. I sit down at the table and practically vacuum them up. Told you I was hungry! 

I avoid my mother as I walk upstairs, I can tell she's exhausted.  I walk over to my bed and slowly lay down. I always feel that same lump in my throat, never fully fulfilled with how I feel. I slowly start to doze off into a dreamless sleep. 

Man, my life feels like a dream, so unreal...