Dreamer ~ A Daniel Seavey Fanfiction

Chapter 3

HARPER'S POV

Waking up the next morning to the sun was a pleasant surprise. I was sure I was either going to be woken up in the middle of the night by a beating or just not wake up at all.

Glancing at my clock, I see that they let me sleep in, too.

Something is wrong. Something is very, very wrong.

I cautiously climb out of bed and creep downstairs. Through the front window, I see that both of my parents' cars are gone, and only mine sits in the driveway. I'm home alone.

And late to school.

I get ready and race out the door, getting to school right on time. I don't even notice something important until the announcements come on over the loudspeaker.

"Good morning students. Today is Friday, September 16..."

Today is my eighteenth birthday. Not that anyone would notice.

Anyone, it seems, except my best friend Kaylee.

Kaylee- HAPPY 18TH BBY!!! LIVE IT UP!! I LOVE AND MISS YOU!!!

I smile and type a response as the bells rings and trigonometry begins.

Kaylee has been my best friend for as long as I can remember. She was the first person – and to this day, the only person – who I shared my dark, scary secrets with. She knew all about my parents, but my parents didn't know her. They were never the type to ask about school or friends. Obviously.

Sometimes, late on summer nights, Kaylee would sneak into my room through my window and we would laugh until morning. When I was with her, I didn't have to be the daughter of two of life's biggest nobodies. I could just be Harper, and that meant that I could be normal.

But when Kaylee's family moved an hour away at the beginning of the summer, all of that changed. In a way, it was like losing Hailey and Dex all over again. There was no one for me to lean on, and that thought scares me every single day.

The day passes in a blur, a few people whispering happy birthday wishes to me. At the end of the day, a boy I've seen around school waves at me from down the hall and yells, "Happy Birthday!" I catch a glimpse of gorgeous blue eyes as four other boys pull him away.

I take the long way home, not wanting anything to shatter this good-enough day. It's been a while since I've had a day like this, and I know what's to come once I go home.

But when I finally gather the courage to pull back into my driveway, both cars are still missing. Either they came home and left again before I got home from school, or they never came home at all.

I put the car in park and cautiously walk inside. There's no sign or smell of any kind of smoke or drugs, and the whole house is eerily quiet. I shake the weird feeling off, going upstairs and flopping on my bed. Ignoring my homework for the time being, I pop my earbuds in, drowning out reality in music. I close my eyes, and feel myself drifting off to sleep.

"Get up."

It has to be hours later. I'm still on my bed, but my phone is quiet, dead from the music being on for so long.

"Get. Up."

When I open my eyes, there is a man standing over me with a gun. The man is my father.

"Dad?" I ask, fearing him more now than I ever had before. Bruises and cuts heal, but one little pull of that trigger and I would die. "What are you doing?"

"Shut up Harper," my mom says from the other side of me. "Oh, and happy birthday. Get up and get ready to party."

My dad grabs me by the arm and presses the gun to the side of my head. "Don't try anything stupid. Get changed and get downstairs. We're late."

"Late to what?" I question, but they're already gone. I get changed and grab everything I need. It might be crazy, but my dad is really drunk or really high or both, and I'm not willing to test him today. Especially not with that gun.

I hurry out to the car and stumble into the backseat. "Where are we going?"

"Shut up."

"Are you drunk?"

"Shut up Harper!"

I'm too terrified to push it any further.

I watch as my neighborhood blurs past, soon becoming another one entirely as we take all back roads to avoid being seen. I realize we we're going almost immediately.

We are going to Ty's house. To party. Happy birthday to me.

Sure enough, we pull up to the inconspicuous beige house, turned gray in the night. Dad hauls me roughly out of the backseat, the gun pressing to my head once again.

"There's the birthday girl!" Ty slurs as soon as we step foot in the door. Dad pushes me down on the couch next to him, and Ty throws his arm around my shoulders as a sort of hug. I watch as my parents join his in the kitchen, where the smell of pot smoke is marinating.

"Help me Ty," I whisper urgently as soon as my parents are out of earshot. But he's too wasted to respond. Silence would still fill his ears even if I was screaming at him.

Before I can even try to figure out how to get out of here, my mother returns from the kitchen with a bright pink, toxic-smelling drink. My dad is right behind her, gun in hand.

"Drink it," he says as my mom slides the concoction across the coffee table to me. I look up at my father in a daze, and the barrel of a gun is staring back at me. "Now."

So I do something I've never done before - I listen to them, and gulp the whole thing down, wincing as it burns the back of my throat.

"Good girl." My mom waves in the direction of the kitchen, beckoning Tyler's parents to join us. They come out smoking pot, and pass it all around.

My father inhales sharply, and passes the blunt to me. "Happy birthday, you worthless little girl."

I refuse to take it, and anger contorts my dad's face. "You ungrateful brat," he says. "Your mother and I are good to you, and yet you defy us every which way." He drags me up by the arm and the gun is next to my head again. "Take the hit."

So I do. I drink and I smoke and I keep my life as long as I can. Things get fuzzy, too fuzzy, and before long I'm falling all over Ty.

"Get her in the car," I hear my dad say, and catch a glimpse of him stumbling. This is the worst my parents have ever been. "We'll take her for a ride."

My head hurts, and it's hard to keep my eyes open. "Where are we going?"

"Shut up and get in."

In the backseat, it was peaceful for a while. But then, horror struck.

My dad veers too far into the left lane, and, rounding a bend, drives full force into the side of another car. The sound of everything crashing together rings in my ears, and the world goes dark.

~