No guard on duty

1: Wallflowers should keep their mouths shut

Natalie's point of view

I arrived at the new, inviting place called California to the smell of salt water. I breathe in slowly with my eyes closed.

" This is the life " I said quietly to myself.

I open my eyes to see my beauty parked nearby. My dad ( if you want to call him that ) thought it was a stupid idea to buy my first car at California but it's better than driving here from New York.

I put the keys into the ignition and hear it come to life. I had the keys sent to my house so I can just start driving when I arrive. I turned on the radio and started scrolling though the song choices.

' Chandelier by Sia ' comes on and I'm pleased. I start driving away watching the airport slowly disappear.

Life. Is. Good.

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I pull into my new home about 2 hours later. I stay a little while longer waiting for one of my favorite songs ' Bartender by Lady Antebellum ' to end. When it does, I exit my car and enter the rather large building.

I roll my eyes knowingly. Of course dad would spend all of moms money on a huge house.

Mom. It tastes bitter to say the word. She died of cancer three days ago at 4:32 A. M. At 4:33 A. M. I realized my dad doesn't give a fuck.

And that's ladies and gentleman, is how I turned into a wallflower.

The moment I saw that the so called ' power of love ' is like anti-depression medication. It's doesn't work. It just gives you hope so you can dream of another day of smiles and laughing.

Without it, you think your going to die. But you don't realize it doesn't create a difference in your life. Only the memories of the past stays. And you want to ' go back and stay like that forever ' or you want to ' change it '

" Dad! I'm home! " I scream as I walk inside. I carry in my suit cases and he is standing by the door. Creepy. But judging by his eyes, he isn't to thrilled about it.

" Who said you had to come live with me again?"

" umm, the state of New York... " I say confused.

He rolls his eyes. " You aren't allowed anywhere on the third floor. That's my room, office, bathroom, and kitchen. Also known as mine.

Your floor is the second and i guess we have to share the last floor. It has a guest room, patio, and entrances. Just.... try not to bother me too much. " He says as he goes upstairs.

I stand there in awe. I basically have my own house in the palm of my hands. The thing that made me upset was the fact my own father wants nothing to do with me.

Great. Nothing has changed.

Jacob ( my dad ) came here a week before mom died to get this house handled. This was supposed to be for the three of us. But now it's feels wrong. Empty even.

Before she died, he would beat me when she wasn't home. Anytime he had the chance. When she was home, he wouldn't speak to me. Not even look me in the eyes. I has a mistake in his eyes. Still am and probably always will be.

This time he knows he won't get caught.

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I finally finished decorating my room. 6 hours, a lot of box lifting, and cleaning was worth it at last.

I had white walls with my bed in the middle of one of the walls covered with a navy blue and cream striped comforter on it. To match it, I added coral pillows and a golden anchor on my wall.