Letters To Nobody

Chapter 12 - A Ride Home

"So Genesis, you like books?" Paulo asked.

I tried counting the streetlights as we passed them by, I hadn't said more than two words, feeling out of place all of a sudden. His question made me loose track, and forget upto where I'd counted, so I gave up, and started picking at my nails instead--a bad habit I had when uncomfortable or nervous.

I nodded, but then realized he couldn't see me. "Yes, I love books."

"Our family is big on reading, all of us love it, and my mother loves writing, as well."

"Your mother writes?" I asked, interested, forgetting my nails for a moment. "Her own books?"

"Not for the public." Said Janie. "Just for the family."

I absorbed that information, suddenly forming a clearer picture of Mrs. Garcia in my head. A writer. A woman with a world of stories and fantasy's
behind her smiling, gentle eyes.

"I can imagine her stories are great either public or private."

Janie nodded. "They are very special."

"So, what do you do?" Paulo asked. "Besides reading. I think I got that." He paused for a beat before continuing. "You know my mother writes, and you know we love reading, you know our basic background. Tell us about yourself."

Me...

My heartbeat increased, feeling everyone's attention on me and waiting for me to speak.

"Um... I- I guess I like to write. Not books, but music."

"You write songs?!" Janie asked, surprised. "Lucky! I wish I had that gift."

"Yeah, it's private though. No one's ever heard or read any of my songs."

I felt like I'd just bared my soul with revealing that piece of information. Not many people in this world knew anything about my writing, and I felt stupid for telling these near-strangers.

"Even still, that's pretty neat." Paulo said.

"Thanks." I nearly choked on the word, and after that I went back into my silent bubble, trying to focus on the street lights once more, feeling beyond awkward.

After what felt like forever, we arrived infront of my house, but when I thought about what most likely awaited me inside, I didn't want to step out of the vehicle, but I wasn't about to let Janie and Paulo know how badly I didn't want to go back into that building.
I stepped out of their Volkswagen, and since Paulo's window was nearest to me, and rolled down, I thanked him for the ride and offered a small, half-hearted smile.

"Anytime Genesis." He smiled back kindly and gave me a small wave.
"Good night."

"Good night Genesis!" Janie called from the other side of Paulo. "See you again soon!"

Another window rolled down and the cute face of Catrina poked through it, rubbing her tired eyes.
"Bye Gen'!" She grinned, waved, ducked back into the vehicle, and they drove off.

When they were out of sight, I turned to face the house that had never felt like a real home, and slowly started walking towards the front door. I hesitated a few beats before turning the knob and stepping into the foyer. My steps were quick and in the direction of the staircase, hoping to disappear into my room before anyone saw me. Especially Vivian, I did not want to see Vivian. I had barely reached the first step when Laura confronted me, stepping out of the living room.

"Who do you think you are?" Came her accusing voice.

"Excuse me?" I raised my eyebrows. "Am I on house arrest, or something?"

"I saw you!" She fumed. "I told you to stay away from Paulo! And now you think you can just Walz around, begging for rides and attention?!" She breathed deeply. "He's my type, and I'm his. He will never, and nobody will ever like you the way you are, so stop acting like a fool and embarrassing my mother and I with your actions and stuttering about, and mind your own business."

I tried to shrug off her words and keep walking, but her words cut deep, and her next scentence topped it all off.

Her eyes were glaring with hate. "I mean honey, have you looked in the mirror lately? Who would want all that ugly flab anyways?"

The worst thing about everything she said? She was right.

Lara knew she had hit the right chord. "Hey, no hard feelings. I'm only trying to be honest." She waved her petite, manicured hand and slipped back to where she came from.

I dragged my tired feet up the stairs, and with a deep breath, pulled open my bedroom door. Unshead tears prickled at my eyes, and I held it that way. Unshead.

She is not worth crying over. I will not cry. I will not let myself cry. I will not. I will not.

I chanted these words over and over again until the great urge to ball my eyes out passed somewhat, and I was able to calm down enough to take a seat behind my desk and think of the letter I'd recieved earlier.

Today has not been a good day. In fact, is has been quite horrible.

I wrote on a blank piece of paper laying scattered on my desk, not caring for a moment that someone would be reading this after a few days. I just needed to leave my thoughts somewhere, and If I were being honest, I kind of liked the fact that someone actually took the time to read my letters (as embarrassing as a lot of it was).

And then I poured my heart out, describing everything, from this morning and the lashout with Vivian, to this evening and the words of my stepsister.

P. S. I added at the end of the letter; Thanks for the lame joke.

I knew I might regret it later, but when I had written down all my thought and feelings, I folded the letter, stuck it in an envelope and sealed it. Setting it on my desk to deliver to the mailbox in the morning.

                                       ****

“A word of encouragement during a failure is worth more than an hour of praise after success.”

                                    ****