Happy New Year!

Merry Christmas!

Update 12/17/15:

After these rough few months I'm starting to feel somewhat better about things. Still stressed as hell, but I got the mail today and look what I found! I was accepted to both of the colleges I applied to and this one is the one I'm gearing towards. Either way... now I'm trying to prepare for auditions and all that jazz (no pun intended lol) but I'm excited for all of this.

On a completely different note (no pun intended T_T) I've got lots of family stuff going on. I'm waiting on the medical results of a procedure one of my family members had done and it's just killing me inside. Last night was my winter concert, and I couldn't even concentrate on my singing. Literally, as soon as I came home they told me about the doctors visit and everything, and then 2 hours later I had to go up on stage and put on a fake smile, it sucked. But I did it. I walked in school today and I wanted to cry because I couldn't focus. But I pulled through!!!! I persevered!!! And I'm going to keep pushing on, I won't let this get me down and I'm staying positive.

For some reason I just can't stop thinking about the passage of time and it's like making me super fucking depressed. -_- To watch your friends go from what you once saw them as, to something completely different... Going separate ways, losing connections with some of your closest friends, even your family members... It's sad and it hurts, but that's life. I'm trying to put all of this emotional energy into my music... It's weird (I know) but most musicians have their little quirks. I just wish I could freeze some points in life. But yeah *sigh* that's where I'm at. Sometimes I think too much :/

Personal Update (Hiatus): 

          Sooooo... I'm tired of all the avoidance of an important topic regarding my life. Ever since the start of 11th grade I battled with depression and it comes and goes on top of my anxiety. I don't know where the hell it all came from.... Back in 10th grade I was "on top of the world." But shit changes...
          I don't want to sit here and say that I'm not busy because, I am verrrry busy. But I'm also super depressed on top of that, and it overwhelms me to no end. Most of the time being busy makes me feel more motivated and energized. Now, I just don't give a fuck about anything. It just feels like it takes extra strength to do everything. I can't focus for shit either. I'll sit around and just totally black out and I sleep a whole lot which is something I only do when I'm not feeling right about certain things.
         Writing music, playing my piano, and just writing literature in general doesn't make me happy anymore right now. I write something and end up scrapping half of it, then re-writing the same shit again. Even though I love those things... I just can't do it. I sit around and play my piano and wonder why I'm even doing it in the first place. I'll play something, record it, destroy it, manipulate it, and still end up hating my songs. I've been flipping out on a lot of people close to me and distancing myself from my closest friends, and it just sucks. Everything just feels off and who knows when I'll feel better.
          That's where I'm at right now. I'm so tired of playing happy all the time... I want to actually feel happy. I know there's light at the end of the tunnel but God damn... I'm so weak right now.  Life is confusing and I honestly just need time to find myself again...
          I was planning on finishing up part 2 and taking a hiatus then but I just can't do it....
          I'm probably gonna regret posting this but oh well. I'll be back when I'm in a better state of mind. <3

Chapter 38: Wandering minds (Part 1/2):

***Warning: There's artistic nudity in this part!***

DAVID'S POV

"David, could you please pass the caviar?" Eli was holding a piece of bread in his hand like it was a hard diamond.

I passed the caviar his way, not saying a word. He loved that shit even though it tasted like an overly salted clump of curdled milk. Truthfully, I believed he only "loved" it because it was so expensive and uncommon.

To be truthful, this dinner was more about my father than any of us. Mr. Lockhart's daughter just stared at me with so much purpose. I knew she wanted to talk to me, but she just insisted on staring me down instead.

My father raised his flute of champagne in the air, acknowledging it before he tilted it towards his nose, taking light sips. "Absolutely divine." He simpered.

Mr. Lockhart leaned back in his chair, watching us all more intently than he was a few minutes ago. "You see, I knew you would like it." He lifted his hands, showcasing all of the expensive shit he had in his house. "We're men of the same blood, we think alike. Don't we?" He crossed his hands together, resting them on his stomach.

"Indeed, we do." My father replied, exchanging the same energy with Mr. Lockhart. It was all in their eyes, the way they looked at each other showed how they really felt about each other... Envious, yet intentful- they needed each other if they wanted to climb to the top. 

They went back and forth about politics and wealth the entire night, and they sounded foolish; educated and stupid in the same token. 

"We're new money, but don't be fooled, we know what we're doing with our money." My father leaned in closer to the table, changing his tonality. "I'm sure you've heard of the Costa's." He shook his head, snickering with a sly smile traced along his lips. "God, that family really had taken a lot of losses. They can't seem to keep themselves afloat with all of the things being said about them." 

That was my father, taking pleasure in someone else's misfortune. "But they're old money. Their time is fizzling away, soon they won't even be heard of anymore." He tilted his head to the side, smiling like a snob. "We learn from their mistakes, while they try and be us..." His smile grew even wider, "Of course, they're never nearly as successful as us though."

Mr. Lockhart adjusted his tie, clearing his throat as he frowned. "You see that's why men like us have to stick together, Mr. Rakeson." He lowered his eyes, "There's always someone out for our riches." The look in his eyes drew me in, he was hypnotic in the most devious way. "Sure they may seem to have it all together but look at it this way... they're snakes and we're hawks." He ran his fingers through his salt and pepper contrasted hair. "They're sneaky, but we're sneakier. While they roll around on the ground, we roam around in the sky and stalk them at night. Sure we're young and less experienced, but we still have more determination than them, we're spry and keen. Once they're caught in their moment of weakness we swoop down and snatch them right between our beaks, vindicating our vengeance." He smiled, at my father. "Have no fear Mr. Rakenson, have no fear."

I took a moment to look around his house, realizing why I felt uneasy. His words were enough to make anyone feel out of place, but the paintings on his wall were almost obscene. Never mind that, it wasn't necessarily the paintings that were obscene... It was the amount that made it feel obscene. Every single painting on his wall was of a woman, a naked woman. Some brunettes, some blondes, some tan, others pale. It was like he had some freaky fetish.

The way his floor shined and bounced the light from the chandelier dangling from the ceiling was supposed to be majestic but it was unbearably intrusive. I looked down at my plate, the chicken was cut in an adjacent slant and set on the side, untouched.

This fancy shit was getting old. I spent the whole week trying to be as proper as I possibly could and I felt like I was going to lose it. I hopped out of my seat like a fish out of water, dying for air. Everyone just looked at me.

"David!" My mother scolded, "Sit down!" She pointed at my plate. "We haven't even started dinner yet! Don't be rude."

         Eli looked at me but he didn't say anything. My father gave me his 'You better not fuck this up!' stare, asking me, "Is there a problem David?"

"No-" I stumbled with my words. "Actually, yes there is a problem." I wanted to punch him in his fucking face for having that kind of unspoken control over me.

"Well, what's the issue?" He looked at me like I needed to give him an answer otherwise my argument was invalid.

In an alternate reality I could see myself flipping that fucking table over, throwing the plates across the room, jumping on top of my father and beating him until he was black and blue in the face. I clenched my fist, concentrating on my breaths, trying not to lose the little bit of control I had left in me. "I just need time alone." I hissed.

My father's face grew red like a cherry. "Time alone?! Time alone for what?!"

"Hey, hey, hey!" Mr.Lockhart interrupted, "Please let the boy do as he wishes. I'm not at all offended." He stared at me with a knowing look. "My house is your house son, please enjoy yourself; come back and eat whenever you want."

I faced my father who had nothing to say while my mother just sat there looking at her fingernails as if she were afraid she had done something wrong. Finally returning Mr.Lockhart's gaze, I thanked him. "Thanks, I really appreciate it." 

Before walking away I noticed how Mr.Lockhart's daughter was staring at me. She seemed so intrigued by my little 'scene.'

Her eyes followed my body until I was no longer in a visible distance. I cut the corner and headed upstairs, walking into the middle of nowhere really.

Their halls seemed never ending, they were black like a cavern you could get lost in. Everywhere I turned their was some kind of portrait of a nude woman. Ass, breasts, rosy cheeks, nipples, and Juno-esque shapes near and far. 

I stopped and paid attention to one in particular, it caught my eye, it was different than the rest. A woman was standing in front of a mirror, everything around her seemed so dim and dark. It was hard to tell how she felt about herself, she looked conflicted and transfixed with herself. In a way it was almost depressing if you kept staring at it.

As crazy as it sounded, it made a vision flicker through my mind. I wanted to write a song. Something deep and mysterious, something in a minor key.

Without trying to lose my train of thought I turned around to go back downstairs and get my guitar. 

"Hey!" Rue (Mr.LockHart's daughter) was in my face, like she was standing right behind me the whole time. "Are you okay?"

Something about her was just so God damn off. The way she moved her eyes and looked over my face all the way to my neck and shoulders almost made me feel cornered. 

"No, I was just looking around." I knew she wanted to talk. The whole entire time I had been here, she wanted to talk, and talk, and talk, and talk, and talk! 

"Oh." Her smile was so twitchy and seemed like it could drop at any second. "Is it the paintings?" She asked, glancing at the one I was standing next to.

I looked at her eyes and they just kept moving away from mine. "Kind of." They probably had many people curious as to why they had so many paintings like that in their house.

"My father has a reason for these paintings; he cherishes them." She grazed her fingers over her arm, lowering her head towards the ground. "He always admired my mother's beauty and when she died he had to find a sense of comfort, without upsetting me." She seemed to dig her nails deep into her skin. "Instead of dating other women, he got all these paintings. At first I hated them, but now they feel like they belong here."

I cringed, thinking about how lonely he must've been. "That's-"

"Beautiful, right?" She was rubbing the side of her neck, her eyes big and wide, seeking my gaze.

That wasn't what I was going to say, but it was a grim topic. I didn't know when her mother died either; I didn't want to open a fresh wound. "Well, yeah. I'm sure it has to be a lot of things... Beautiful, artistic, comforting, sad, joyful." I shrugged, really not having a clue what to say to her.

The smile she gave me was finally sincere, it took her a moment before she spoke. She ran her fingers along her jaw line, reaching down to her neck. "I'm glad you can see it differently than most people." Reaching out her hand, she touched the painting. "Most people walk up to this and say it's vulgar and obscene but-" She stuttered, frowning as she continued. "Some things are just more beautiful from far away."

"I guess you have a point." From far away you would think that I had a stable family, but the reality was that it was far from stable. People just like living out the dreams that others make for them; it's sad, but it's the truth.  "Well... I need some time to myself now. It was nice to finally speak to you for once." I resounded, slowly backing away from her.

She could've been a door, a locked one. Blocking me from walking through it; but I made it through her despite her attempt to keep me standing there.

****

C Major was considered to be one of the "brightest keys" by any musician. Everyone loved it, yet its counterpart A minor was completely composed of the same keys; it just sounded completely different. In one instant you could start out on 'C' and be playing a "happy song;" but start the song on 'A,' play it through, and you're in a totally different world. The relative minor keys always tripped me up.

The icy touch of the wind made my fingers feel hard and brittle. I moved my fingers up and down the fret board of my guitar, getting a feel for the key. My breath appeared in one big fluffy white cloud in front of me. 

White sheets of snow covered the ground, along with the sprinkled pieces that appeared in the trees. Something about the change of season made me feel more aware about everything. In Florida, you never really got to experience that shift from season to season.

My paper and pen were resting beside me, fresh and clean... For now. I stretched out my legs, not really thinking of anything. Ad-libbing was the closest form of expression for me, there was no point in changing my routine.

"Your lips are full of fury.

You're dangerous, oh so dangerous.

My tongue is a hot match, striking against your lips.

When it  flicks, the flame ignites.

It ignites.

It burns so bright.

So wrong, yet it feels so God damn right.

I'm burning, baby I'm burning."

"Ah fuck!" I muttered, scribbling some words on my notepad. I looked at them again, judging them more harshly, and then I grab the paper, crush it up into a ball and throw it onto the floor. "Way too cheesy."

How the hell did this make any sense. I could feel the mood I wanted, the tone I wanted, the expression that I wanted.... Yet I couldn't actually communicate that. That language, that spirit, that depth. Maybe my thoughts were bigger than me....

I shifted around in the chair a little more, knowing what I had to do. A true artist puts them self in a vulnerable position... Even if it's detrimental... They lay it all out there.

"It's you...

I don't know who you are.

So scarred, but you look so nice from afar-"

"Fuck!" I threw my note pad onto the ground and my white breath bursted through the air. It wasn't sounding the way I wanted it to; it didn't sound right.

Something was off, and I couldn't stop suppressing myself, my thoughts... Everything!

"Somethin' got'cha feelin' down?" Rue peered out of the corner of the door. "Brrrr! It's cold out here, isn't it?" She rubbed her hands together, her teeth were almost chattering. Her dress might as well have been a shirt. She had a nice shape but she really needed to cover up, she would catch a frost bite if she stood out here any longer.

I didn't say anything. She was listening to me, probably way before she decided to come out here. 

Walking over to the edge, I leaned over the balcony. Looking down at everything really put shit into perspective.

"There's a girl isn't there?" Her voice was so ominous, and all-knowing. She got closer to me, standing beside my left shoulder.

"No. There's no one." I replied. "No one, except me." She was putting me on the hot seat.

"Oh please!" She snickered, her eyes jumped around more and more. "Guys never change for better... And for worse."

"Neither do women."

"Well, since you know so much about women, you should know how we are." She furrowed her eyebrows. "There's only so much shit we'll take before we walk away." Her hand pulled into a tight grip. "Don't wait until we blow up... Because when we do.... That shit is not pretty. Avoid the explosion, fix it before it blows up in your face."

As much as I ignored it, she was right. Lately I had been feeling uneasy about  a lot of shit. So many things could go wrong, especially since I confided in Cris. I trusted him, but it was still a risk. I wanted to choose so badly, but it was so god damn hard.

It was like having a glass of water and slice of lemon meringue pie. The water was pure, simple, clean, fresh... No problems there. But water gets boring after a while; sure, it's good for you but having water every single day for the rest of your life? It's pretty mundane. The water makes you yearn after a while... For something more. So you seek out that slice of lemon pie, it's bitter, tart, yet sweet with all of it's extra finishing touches. Was it good for you? Hell no. But did it satisfy your desires? Heck yeah. The thing is that you can only have so much lemon at a time... After a while it becomes too much to handle and then you seek out that glass of refreshing water again, to cool off your tastebuds and start over. That was the problem, it was like one big cycle. 

Sometimes I wondered if it was possible to have affectionate feelings for two people at once. Was it possible to love someone yet want someone else too? Maybe I wasn't ever in love to begin with. Maybe I fell out of love. Either way, I needed to make a decision. 

Feeling unmotivated:

So lately I haven't really felt like writing much. I'll open my files, write one or two sentences, jump into my bed, and sleep. Literally. 

I love writing but I just feel so tired. Everything feels like a draining process and I don't know why I feel this way. I'll probably end up updating sometime these next few days but yeah...updates will be slower. It's the closing of part 2 and I can't end it any kind of way. When there's lots of sims that equals more time spent taking pics, making poses, writing for them, creating situations etc. T_T blahshehrhfjfirid.
When it's time for Part 3 I'm gonna take a little hiatus and work on changing my creative process because boy, oh boy am I fucking exhausted with it. I think it will be a lot better to do some things differently this time around, something refreshing. Ahhhhh :)

Can't get past these last few paragraphs for this chapter, and it's bugging the shit out of me so much that I just jump into bed every time like right now. Oh well. *Shrug* That's what's up. 

Chapter 37: The Holiday for Memories

  The lights on our Christmas tree twinkled like little stars. "Are you guys ready?" Croy asked, stretching his arms out wide as he yawned. His beard was all scruffy and dingy. It was like an artist had taken a pencil and went over his beard, making it grow a few shades deeper, and adding depth.
     Adrianne was wearing a loose night gown that was nearly reminiscent of the color of blood. Nothing about her showed even the slightest glint of joy. She was just pretty much there, watching us live the moment.
    My satin gown felt like a feather against every inch of my skin. I threw it on earlier because I didn't feel like putting on a shirt and shorts. Lazy, I know. But I really did adore it; the soft violet tone dyed into every single stitch just kind of glowed on its on.
    "Let's open one gift at a time." Allyson's loose hair swung over her shoulders when she looked at me. "Do you want to go first?"

    There weren't that many presents under the tree, because our gifts were small yet enormous at the same time... if that made any sense. (Gifts cards to specific stores and  Visa gift cards) I stared at the yellow envelope etched with vivacious crimson ink under the tree that read: 'To Croy, from your niece and your step-daughter <3' It was the only thing under the tree for him, he deserved to open his present first.
    I shook my head, reaching over for the envelope. "Let's have Croy open his gift first." When Allyson initially asked me about the gift she wanted to get Croy, I was wary but I knew he would appreciate it. It was literally perfect for him.
     Getting up to give him his gift, I noticed the frown on his face, he was dumbfounded. "Here." I placed it in his hand, feeling shaky for no true reason. It wasn't like he would blatantly say he hated it, even if he did.
Once he saw the thin sheets of paper with palm trees decorating the sides of it he smiled and poked me in the arm. "Where'd you guys get these brouchers?" He looked from me to Allyson as if his eyes were two ping-pong balls. "This can't be real!" He exclaimed.
"It is real. And you better believe it." Allyson looked over at her mom as she said that. "What did she tell you something?"
His eyes became a sinkhole of terror. "No! No, she didn't tell me anything about you." He thumbed through the brouchers some more, astonished by all the images of the crystal beaches. "I've just always wanted to go to the Bahamas."
"Well now you can." I patted him on the shoulder. "You really deserve it." Between his patients at work, his new wife and daughter at home, and me and all of my anxious burdens; I knew he was tired. Even if he didn't admit it. it.

He looked up at me and Allyson, grinning so hard his lips puckered and I could see his teeth. "I love you girls."
"Love you too." I chippered, feeling my cheeks flush from how picture perfect the moment was.
Finally, he leaned in and kissed Adrianne's cheek, she was like a rock, she didn't move at all, she just stared into space like she was watching a tower fall. "We're going to the Bahamas honey!"
Her eyes flickered from the sudden batting of her lashes. It was as if she had been asleep the whole time. "Oh. Yeah, it will be great since we didn't really have a honeymoon." The way she smiled was odd and disconnected, disingenuous.
Like the life saver he was, Croy turned to the Christmas tree. "Considering the fact that you guys only had three days to decorate; I'm impressed." He pointed towards the bottom of the tree, signalling for me to walk over to it.

We had a color scheme going on, which was something I had never done, even when I used to celebrate Christmas with my parents and Jess.
All the pink presents were for Allyson and all the purple ones were mine, hence why I was wearing a violet gown. It was actually a really smart idea when you put it into perspective.
Allyson was still angered, she just sat there. "You go first Mel." She was trying to sound kind and delightful yet there was so much tension in her words.
"Okay." I murmured, trying to ignore the awkwardness. There were 4 purple presents under the tree for me. One was a little purple envelope, and the other three were just purple boxes.
I grabbed the envelope first, not trying to ruin the whole Christmas tree aesthetic just yet.  When I held it in my hands I realized it was slightly larger than I had expected. There was something resting at the bottom of the envelope, I could feel it poking out of the corner. It read: 'From: Your uncle, To: My sweet niece.'
Ripping the envelope open, I squeezed it at the sides until it puckered, when it did I looked inside. There were a few 100 dollar bills in there, the holographic strips were bouncing back blue reflections everywhere. All the way in the corner there was a silver necklace. Reaching in, I latched it in my fingers, it was cold and frigid, shiny and smooth. It was shaped like a heart and it had a little latch on the side. "It opens?" I asked, grazing my thumb over it.
"Maybe." My uncle laughed before her stood by me. "Open it." He said.

I did as he said and opened it, snapping the latch to the side. I couldn't believe my eyes. Inside, there was a picture of me and my sister, swaddled up in exceptionally white blankets that looked like fuzzy milk colored sweaters. She was 3 and I was one, the blue backdrop made us seem like angels. Pure and delicate.
"Wow. I can't believe this. I don't remember mom ever showing me this picture." From the age of 6 and up my mom only had pictures of me and Jessica separately. We couldn't bear to stand next to each other for more than 10 seconds.
"Yeah. Your mom never liked the way this picture came out. I'm not sure why to be honest." He shrugged. "I think it's beautiful."
"So do I." It kind of sucked the rest of our family was celebrating Christmas separately, but some things worked out for the better.
He cleared his throat. "What is with you girls?! It's Christmas and you guys aren't even acting the least bit excited. Am I the kid? I'm more excited than you guys. Open your presents before I keep them to myself."

I fiddled with the envelope, getting the money out of it. I thumbed through each bill... 1,2,3,4,5,6,7. Shit. I totally wasn't expecting that. I knew we were getting money, but $700...? It was kind of over-kill. "Damn. Thanks?: I was so awkward, I hoped I didn't hurt his feelings.
"Spoiler alert. Allyson, I gave you $700 in your envelope too, along with your Christmas card." He smirked and folded his arms. "But don't get too excited girls. I expect you to use this money wisely for anything you need OR want but don't ask me for anything un-school related until around June. I expect you girls to be somewhat responsible with it."
Allyson opened up her envelope and folded the money. "Thanks, I love money." She snickered, before pulling out her necklace too. Hers was exactly like mine except the picture inside was of her when she was seven. In the picture she was sitting in her dad's lap, hugging him as he was dressed like Santa Claus, it was honestly the cutest thing ever.
She got teary eyed and put the envelope on the ground. "Thanks." That one word was more than enough to describe how she felt. Broken. When none of us said anything Adrianne got all upset. "Now, why would you bring that up?! I know I told you how she gets whenever anyone brings that up."

Things took a totally different turn. As much as I wanted us all to turn the wheel and steer away from the cliff, I knew we were headed over it. It was beyond too late. Allyson got up from the floor and got into a fighting stance with her mother. "Just stop. This isn't all about you okay?!" She pointed towards Croy. "You've got this amazing husband yet all you can do is find shit to yell at him for!"
"I'm not yelling at him! I'm just asking him why he decided to bring that up right now of all times!" She turned to Croy when she said that. "Why would you do that?!"
Allyson's hair blazed over her shoulders when she turned her head around sharply to face Croy. "Because he cares, unlike you."
It was almost chilling as I watched Adrianne's face turn 5,000 shades of white. "Don't. don't you bring this shit up right now! Do you hear me?" She moved her eyes like she was trying to keep her eyes from getting watery. "I'm not talking about this now."
Throwing her arms up in the air, Allyson sighed. "Of course not!" She was growing hotter, like a brush fire in the woods, she was spreading and spreading. The scorch of her scream cut through the air and made it a billion times hotter. "You never want to talk about anything! That's just your little shitty pity party defense mechanism you use to make yourself feel better." Allyson ran her fingers through her hair and just shook her head from side to side as her tears streamed down the side of her face, it was like she was trying to tell her self not to cry. "You don't love anyone but yourself, you don't know what love is, which is why you treat Croy like shit now that he gave you what you wanted. It's all about you and what you want, never anyone else."

"How many times do you have to blame me Allyson?!" She got closer to her, breathing harder. "It's not my fault, I'm not responsible for anyone's actions! It's not my fault." She choked.
Allyson's eyes punched out of her skull. "It's not your fault!?" She grabbed her by both of her forearms, making Adrianne shake and clench her teeth. "You told dad he should kill himself and  he went out to some bar, got drunk, and got into an accident." She struggled to breathe, I could see her knuckles pinching through the skin that covered them. "I was only seven years old. That fucked me up so badly, and you don't even have the decency to acknowledge his death. You brush it off like it's nothing." She  pushed her away from her, releasing her grip. "I just don't get it!" She shook her head in dismay. "I know you never loved him, but you could've at least taken me to his grave out of respect."
She stretched her arms out wide as if other people were in the room. The sarcasm weened through her voice as she said, "But no! All you did was fuck all these different guys left and right, and chase after their money and your shitty art dream!" She was speaking bullets, but stepping in would be too dangerous. She was like a maniac with a gun, unstoppable.
"Stop! Just stop! That's not true! You just love making me look like a bad person! I don't need this right now! I'm grieving, I can't take this."

I thought their fight was almost over. Adrianne  charged for the stairs and Croy went with her. Just before she could even take another step, Allyson yanked her by the arm.
"Grieving over what?! Your child?!" She lapped her eyes. "The one child you actually wanted to give a shit about?" She got all red in the face, and sucked her bottom lip between her teeth. "What about the others? More importantly- What about mine?!" She cried, letting go of her arm. "Huh?"
Adrianne just stood there like a stunned  fish out of water. "I can't believe what you've become. You're horrible, you're nothing but a fiend."
Allyson sucked her breath in her nose loudly, breaking through her hiccup sounding cry with her face full of tears. "Kids can't help who they are, they learn from their parents." She pointed her jagged finger at herself, aiming right for her chest. "I know you hate what you see, and believe me I do too. I'm nothing but a reflection of you."

***

"So how was your Christmas?" David asked, looking at me through the computer screen as he layed down in an unfamiliar setting in the background. The call quality of our video chat wasn't bad, but it wasn't great either and I swear I could see packed suitcases in the background.

My door was open, and getting up to close it seemed like a long journey within itself. "It was nice. I'm video chatting with you from my new laptop actually, it's pretty spiffy." I chortled, trying to make myself laugh in a natural way. I didn't want to even have to mention what had just happened a few hours ago.
"Oh yeah? That's pretty cool." He was staring at me so hard through the computer screen, it was almost nerve racking. "You look really nice." There was a brief pause before he went on. "Are you going somewhere? Or something?"
I ran my fingers through the front of my hair like a comb, tucking it behind my ear as I got to the ends. "Oh, no. I just threw this on because we had a color scheme with our presents, mine were violet."

     "I think I should be the one asking you where you're going. "What's with all of those bags in the background?" I pointed towards the screen. Video chatting was kind of weird with him. Sometimes it felt like he was interested in what I had to say, but other times he seemed distracted.
     His smile became the reciprocal of a fraction, flipping upside down. The pixels on the screen couldn't hide the fact that his eyes looked less alive. "I hate it here. So why get settled? My cousin surprisingly hasn't said much to me, and I haven't said anything to him. But-" He turned around and looked at the door frame. "This man's daughter is really creeping me out. She's almost become my shadow." Not even his eyes could stay steady when he mentioned her.
     The sound of my laughter filled the room. "Well-" I shrugged my shoulders, smiling with a sheepish grin. "Maybe she likes you."
      "Possibly." His voice was sharp and fast like a dart being thrown in the air. "She's 19. She's a model, and she's kind of hot, I can't deny that." He frowned, "But she's still a little odd. I can't put my finger on it, she just leaves me with a strange feeling every time she looks at me."
     I bit my lip, nervous as I tried to figure out how I should say my next sentence. "You either like her or you don't." Diverting my eyes away from the screen, I pinched the skin on my legs. Any guy his age would be ecstatic to be in his situation. A "sexy", 19-year old model chasing you... It was every man's dream, even the old perverted guys like Hughe Hefner.

     I moved my legs inward a little bit more, making my 'pretzel' tighter. The strap on my gown was falling over, I traced my fingers along my shoulder and flicked it upwards and over my shoulder. My hair looked a little messy on my shoulders so I ran my fingers through it a little more.
"She-"
"Mel, can you help me with something?" Allyson stood in the door way, fiddling with her fingers. "I can't get the washing machine to start."
I groaned inwardly, which was wrong. "I'm sorry could you excuse me for a second?" I asked him. "I'll be right back."
He looked like he was annoyed. "No, I can't." He frowned slightly. "We're going out to have a joint family dinner party, I have to take a shower and get dressed."
It was only 11am, and I missed talking to him. So pathetic, I know. "Well, alrighty then. I'll call you tomorrow I guess?" I tried to give him hints here and there without being too obvious. Coming off as a needy freak was the last thing I wanted.
The way he smiled was funny, it was like he was laughing without making any noise. "Yeah, that sounds good. Later gator. I'll text you or something."

    David ended the chat and I began closing my laptop. All the thoughts that lingered in my mind were rude. I should've kept my God darn door closed. What was so hard about working a damn washing machine?
     "Sorry, I didn't mean to interrupt you." She looked pitiful like she needed a hug. Her and her mom really had an ugly history. It reminded me of me and my own mother in some ways.
     "Its fine." I lied, getting off the bed with the same pace Leo would take just to get off his little rock.
     "The delicate cycle wouldn't start. You think I might've overloaded it?" She looked as if she was stuck in another world. I guessed she kind of was after that whole incident before. I wasn't even in her shoes, and I was trying not to think about it.
     "I don't know, I will take a look at it. Maybe it's stuck or something." I felt like Bob the fucking builder.

 We walked down to the basement and I was about to spazz out over the mounds and heaps of clothes she had on the ground. She had a pile with whites and deep colors entangled TOGETHER.
    Gosh, why of all days did she decide to do laundry on Christmas?! "Okay, show me what you did." The washer worked the last time I remembered, unless something changed. Change was pretty common lately.
     "I put all my clothes in and I....." She explained what she had done, lifting clothes into the air and stuffing the washing machine with more clothes.
     As horrible as it was I wasn't listening. I was looking at her but seeing something totally different than what she thought I was.
     Golden skin and a broad chest full of hair was the only thing I saw. Glistening wet hair, and soap bubbles sliding off of David's neck and shoulders was what I wanted to be. A wet water droplet sliding down his chest all the way down to his-
    "Do you think I'm overloading it?" Allyson took some shirts out of the machine, looking at me for approval or denial.
     Closing my mouth that was hanging wide open, I bit my lip. My cheeks were two suns, glowing as brightly as ever and exceptionally hot. Way to be a hoe Melody!

    My vision finally came clear and I leaned to the left slightly. "First things first you need to fix your garment arrangements before you even load the machine." Pointing towards the white pile of clothes that had various other colors dotted in the mix, I shook my finger back and forth. "That not gonna work. Your colored clothes will get bleached."
     She shook her head. "Oh no! I'm not using bleach, it will be okay. The delicate cycle helps the colors bleed less."
Taking a closer look, I realized her white clothes did look slightly tinted. "Is that how you do your laundry?!" It must have been, and her clothes looked very faded.
"Well yeah, either way your clothes end up getting ruined when you throw them in here. The machines are too rough, you're better off hand-washing your clothes." She pulled a red dress out of the machine she was trying to load. It had a cut-out racer back.
I shook my head in disbelief. "You've got a lot to learn about laundry. Let me get some bleach and for now you can just put all your dark clothes in one pile, your lights in another, your whites in another, and your delicates in another pile too."

"How would you know how to wash clothes? No offense but I barely see you come down here to do laundry." Allyson's bitch switch was about to flip on.
"Having parents like mind kind of forces you to know how to do your own laundry." I started doing my own laundry when I was eleven. But once I saw how much of a pain in the ass it was,  I came up with a solution. Buy a shit tone of clothes = and laundry is pretty much nonexistent. That didn't mean I didn't know how to do it though.
"Well my mom always told me it was best to hand wash things you care about, and I care about all of my clothes." She blushed, "It takes a lot of time."
"I can imagine, but I'm about to show you how to make your life easier." I replied, heading towards the stairway. "I'll be right back and we can get this laundry done."

Allyson and I had finally loaded all the clothes into the washer and we were pushing the button on the machine for the delicate cycle.
The machine cut on and she looked at me in shock. "I swear it didn't do that before!" She gasped. "I guess I can't do anything right." She pouted.
"It's okay, I believe you." I smiled, nervous of how she might've been feeling. "You're just having a rough morning. I have a lot of those." I said, blushing as I thought about the breakdowns I had as of recently.
The constant rumble of the machine made her voice sound a few levels softer. "This time of the year just makes me so sad, I can't even think straight." The glaring light of anguish permeated inside her eyes and she winced.
Even though I was slightly bothered by her interruption, I still cared. "Do you want to talk about it?"

"Talking about it only seems to make things worse." She shrugged her shoulders and wiped her eyes that were now flickering like two dim light bulbs about to blow out. "Maybe my mom has a point. Ignoring what happened seems to work for her, maybe I should try it too. It wouldn't hurt as much as this."
I knelt down on the floor, watching the machine spin round and around. The clothes rose and fell, jumping up and down like little wet Mexican jumping beans. "What pains some, doesn't pain others."
"Fuck that. I'd rather feel than not feel at all." She knelt down beside me and joined in on my 'washer watching.' That never ending spin of the clothes was enough to hypnotize someone. "My dad died on Christmas eve."
Hearing her say that made me freeze up. I couldn't say I knew how she felt, the only thing I really could do was listen. She never really talked about the situation with her father but I wanted to know.

She lifted her hand and placed it on the window to the washer. "I was standing by my parent's bedroom door, and my father was balling his eyes out, my mom had a black eye and blood all over her wrists. She told him he was 'worthless,' he said he wanted to 'fall asleep and never wake up.'  She forced him out of the house and told him he 'deserved to die.' And that's what he did..." She shook her head from side to side, "He got drunk at some bar and never came home, later at midnight the cops were at our door saying that he got into an accident and that was it."
"Wow." If she was alluding to what I thought she was, it kind of made sense why her mother acted the way she did. She was a broken woman.
"I could never forget it, not even in a million years when I'm old with dementia." Her index finger wiggled from side to side. "My mother was wearing her favorite white shirt and it was covered in blood stains, I wasn't sure if it was hers, my dad's, or a mixture of both."

    She took her hand away from the machine and rested it in her lap instead. "Sometimes I think God gave me all her pain because he knew she couldn't bear it all. She's weak." Her lips were like ice, and her words were icicles, the sharp kind you could stab your tongue with as a kid, yet everyone still tried to suck them anyways. "He left her with nothing but a partially erased memory and gave me all this pain to deal with. The only real thing I have is a road memorial of him and that's not even good enough." She whimpered. "These damn kids started a mass-hysteria a year ago, claiming he was still alive. It's all a bunch of BS though, it's so annoying." Muttering and clenching her fist she frowned. "I think I would know if my father was still alive or not."
      The sudden realization hit me like an egg being cracked onto my cranium. "Wait a minute- YOUR DAD WAS WILLY?! WILLY ROAD WILLIAM?!" God damn, this town was full of mystery ever since that incident. But now I knew the truth....
    "Yep." She said quickly, still shaking her head in disgust. Rolling her eyes she said, "People will come up with anything just to torment people."
     It didn't really make sense why anyone would do that but alas, someone did it. "That's fucked up." Not only was it a constant reminder every time someone brung it up, it was an insult to her dad's death, a mockery at best.

 "You don't have to tell me twice." The sound of her voice was so different, and her body language complimented it. She got smaller and smaller, clasping her hands between her legs and ducking ever so slightly. "And then when I was 16 I had an abortion the week after my father's death." With a grim look on her face, she just stared out into existence like she was immobile. "Gosh, I was so fucking stupid!" She scolded.
    Gheez. Allyson and her mother really had quite a history, combined and separated. Picturing Allyson pregnant was dead near impossible for me to do. She seemed so- I don't know.... Un-child friendly? Naive wasn't in her vocabulary, she didn't seem like the kind of girl to put herself in a compromising situation.
    "My own mother told me to get an abortion, and I listened. I was so weak and pathetic." Her fingers curled under. "She told me it would be easy, but I still can't get over it."
    For a second, I thought about it... What would I do if I was pregnant and still in high school? It was hard to answer.

   "Of course she got over it, she's heartless." She rolled her eyes and turned towards me. "I used to be so bashful towards women that got abortions,and I still kind of am." The sinking of her eyebrows eased up. "I used to think of myself as a monster... I mean, what sane person could kill an innocent baby?"
    Babies were precious and pure. But once the met the world they lost their innocence. It was sad to say, yet it was true. We were all babies once... Now look at us. *Cringe*
    She rubbed her index finger back and forth along her thumb. "But then I got pregnant and realized why an abortion is probably the biggest sacrifice a mother can make for their child." She sighed and looked at the ground. "We aren't monsters. Most women who have abortions aren't even thinking about themselves... They're thinking about their babies and how to save them from  all the things we wish we were saved from ourselves."

          I didn't think an abortion was wrong. Sometimes life just came with pain. The complex act of giving birth was painful enough. Pushing a watermelon out of a lemon... Yeah, totally painful. "That's what mother's do. They think of their children instead of themselves, even when it hurts." I said, trying to comfort her.
     "But I was mostly thinking about myself, and my future. I wanted to finish school, go to college, get my license, and be away from my mother by now." Like a leaf falling from a tree, her lips fell. "But look at me. I still haven't finished school. I'm 19. Still haven't gotten my license because of my inflicted driving phobia. And I'm still with my damn mom and her forever changing men"
     "You can always change your future. Your life is in your hands, no one else's." I rubbed her back.

    "It's never too late but I feel so far behind, it's kind of embarrassing." She wallowed.
    Most people around her age did have cars and their license, but look at me. I was 16 and wasn't even thinking about getting my permit yet. "I don't have my permit, and I'm not embarrassed." I shrugged. Cars were stupid. Texting and driving was nearly an epidemic these days. Half the people that wanted cars already had a friend that had one anyways so it was a problem solved, all you really needed was gas money.
     "Yeah, but you're you, of course you wouldn't want a car." She teased, finally cracking a smile. "I'm just afraid of driving. I wish I wasn't, but I am."
"We all have our fears. But I know you will get over it, bravery is just a part of your nature." I said, and I meant it. Allyson was a strong girl. Eventually she would get fed up with herself and just make it happen.
"Only time will tell." She sighed and rolled her eyes. "Well, this was an interesting Christmas."
This was my first real Christmas, and even though it didn't go the way I wanted it to, I  was still grateful. It was an experience and I couldn't have asked for anything else. "Yeah, it sure was." I murmured.