Journey of Life.

Chapter 11.

Tomorrow I will have to go around and find myself a dress for prom, although I think I probably won't go. Nobody invited me. if I went alone I wouldn't have fun. So I prefer to save myself an extra day reading. And very soon I will finally graduate, and then get to summer break.

I love summer season, very often with my parents we go to the countryside where the fresh air caresses me, as soon as I open the window. The sun is not too hot. This is why at night is always nippy. In addition being in the hills, I have an excuse to take long walks. My intention is to find a beautiful view on which I can have a picnic. And spend my time both reading and drawing, obviously also writing. But strangely, every time I am in that place, I always want to invent stories, and write down every thought that passes through my mind.

Anyway, today is another day, and I am so positive to start my new chapter. I immediately go down to the kitchen. As usual I don't feel very hungry, I think my stomach has got used to it. So I eat my favorite fruit, cutting it into a tiny pieces, to add a spoonful of yogurt. When I sit down, I notice a letter on the table. It is from mom.

'I'm sorry if I cannot give you a ride to the mall. However, this is the money. Consider it as an opportunity to have fun with your friends before graduation. I recommend to choose well...even if I'm already sure you will make a great impression! Kiss, Mom.'

I stay a few seconds staring at it, but quickly run to choose a movie to watch. Just then, my father comes in, I see him all sweaty.

"You're finally eating something, it's a miracle!" He looks at me perplexed while resting on the sofa.

His gaze is on my direction, while I try to understand how Netflix works. There is nothing interesting, so I get up to read something instead. In that instant my father blocks me. But I ignore him. I have no idea what he wants all of a sudden. Normally on Sunday, as soon as his usual run is over, he goes to his room, then to his studio. Thus often he doesn't even notice my presence. I mean with him, I had a lot of good moments as a child. I remember playing with him many times. Especially those periods when I was obsessed being a knight. I remember we went around the house, and upon entering we made a mess. Like that time I accidentally broke a vase with my sword- mom screamed at us but we didn't care. The only goal was to have fun.

So yeah, I was a happy kid until the mandatory phase arrived, that is having to grow up.

Sometimes I just want to go back to my childhood where I didn't have problems. Where everything was possible, like that day I wanted to fly. With the help of my father, we built a plane by cutting a large cardboard. The idea of ​​being able to fly was thanks to him. Having been very light as a child, it was easy for him to pick me up. In fact with a push he ran as fast as he could while I imagined to be a pilot.

In the meantime I think, someone knocks on the door. Two or three times without answering, my father shows up smiling at me. But I don't pay attention to it, so I return to my reading. I hear him sitting on bed. When he does that, it mean he's observing what's around him. I'm right. He mentions a picture on the table, of me hugging him as a child. It was the day he took me to the zoo. I still have that day in mind, I remember crying for those poor caged animals. In order not to see me in that state, my father bought me a cotton candy. He refers it with a happy tone.

This is the reason why I'm smiling, until he asks me, "How are you?"

"I'm fine. And you? How's your case going?" I reply turning a page.

"A bit stressful, but it's my job." He snorts. "So it should be fine." I feel he's observing me, as if he was waiting for me to confess something. I ignore him by reading but my heart is beating fast. It means anxiety is getting closer.

"I got a call from the school principal this morning." He puts his arms on the legs, checking something on his cell phone.

"Do you have something you need to tell me? I want you to confirm me what's going on." He shows me that video of Nikki bullying that girl. I would like to run away from home right now, but I can't. Even reading is difficult for me, although I continue.

"Dad, it isn't what it seems." I turn around quickly touching my hair. "I..I don't have anything to do with it. I mean...I didn't do anything bad to her. But I feel guilty about-" I don't finish the sentence, because my father gets up from bed. He puts hands behind his neck and walks around the room.

"Luckily mom isn't home today, otherwise there would have been hell." His frustration is driving me crazy, I don't think I can explain myself.

"That girl's family has been good at not reporting us to the police, even if they are considering a claim for damages." He gets back on the bed, this time staring straight at me. I feel that he is disappointed. In fact, I don't reply anything- he's right.

"I'm sorry...I know I should have told you." I don't have the courage to look at him. "It's just I had a long stressful period." I finally talk to someone about what's really inside me. I feel weird, it's been a while...

"I just don't understand why you don't talk to me or to mom." He sighs. "I totally get what you have been feeling, but I want you to know that you're not alone and that you have people you can rely on."

I see his face looking down. I hear him sighing and taking big breaths, which indicates he is tired. I think it's about his latest case. His job does not allow him to rest, or at least take long sleeps. He receives numerous phone calls from various cases to deal with. Sometimes he also has to get up from the table, leaving the unfinished food to start the process- which my mother complains about very often. She wants him to spend time more with family. I know. I have a father who's very responsible. I think I took this characteristic from him, I never leave duty aside. So he works hard, even when there's no reason to.

I feel instinctively the need to approach him. Without letting him notice, I also sit on the bed. Seeing him still in that position with his gaze on the floor, I want like hugging him. I haven't done it for a long time, in fact he looks at me confused but full of joy. I think he missed this moment with his little playmate. Although it's probably because mom doesn't do it either. Especially after a long day at work, when he comes home, she doesn't welcome him properly. Instead, she complains that she has to heat the cooled meal, just because he had not specified the exact time of his return. So it happens to hear them arguing, and with that chance she pulls up his personal arguments to provoke him. I have to admit it, sometimes she exaggerates too much.