For The Love Of Me | Teen Ink

For The Love Of Me

March 18, 2014
By HayleeSkoony, Eagle Mountain, Utah
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HayleeSkoony, Eagle Mountain, Utah
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They say home is where the heart is, but I’ve never known what a home feels like. I've read in books that it’s where you go to be nurtured, cared for. It’s where your mother kisses you’re boo boos better, where your father plays catch with brother, mom’s cooking sweetens the air, your siblings argue while at the dinner table. You shouldn't be scared of home; you shouldn’t always be on edge, and surely your heart shouldn't stop when you hear him calling your name. Love and warmth should fill the house and make it a home. Home is where you should feel safe and sound, not where you feel alone. He will always find a way to hurt me. So I’ve locked everything up and thrown the key out, just so l don’t give him the ability to tear me down. Fathers are someone who strives to keep their children safe, work to keep clothes on your back, and send you off to college. The person you're supposed to go to when you need advice. Someone who gives his children every opportunity to grow by experience and acquire wisdom. My father forced me to mature early, created a heartless person whose guard is constantly up and is always timid towards feelings. He’s only taught me that when you can see the bottom of the whiskey bottle, you best open a new one, Jack Daniels is best served with a diet drink because you will get drunk faster, bacon cures a hangover and one more is never enough.
I close my eyes, fill my lungs with the fresh autumn air, as I reached for the doorknob. Immediately, the smell of booze and cigarettes escape out the open door. “Shut the damn door! You’re letting the cold air in!” He wheezes, then proceeded to take a long drag of his expired cigarette. He was perched in the recliner, beer in one hand and his smoke between his fingers. “While you're at it, get me another drink.” He throws his glass at me, but the wall blocks the blow, the crystal glass shatters at impact. My heart stops.
“Yes father.” My heart is racing, but I managed to keep my voice steady and proceed into the kitchen. I pull the whiskey bottle from the cupboard along with a fresh plastic cup, just taking a precaution. With shaky hands, I pour him a glass and walk back into the front room. I keep my head down, trying to avoid conversation. He swipes the cup from my hand and immediately starts to guzzle it down.
“Plastic? What the hell is this Rachel?” His expression shows everything. I automatically close my eyes in preparation, but there wasn't any contact.
“I’m sorry father, there was no more clean ones.” Lie number one, there was multiple clean glasses, but I don't want another glass to soar through the air and have possibility of hitting me.
“Then get in the kitchen and wash the dishes! Clean the house.” He became angry, “Oh, and while you're at it, make dinner. I’m hungry.”
Why do i let him control me? Why can’t I just stand up to him? I am scared of a pitiful man, someone whose answer is always alcohol. I need a saving grace, a guardian angel, a sanctuary. Anywhere where I can escape this pain, I need to escape from him. I need to not feel so alone. I need to feel loved. But I’ve locked away my heart and all my feelings. I've found only one way to escape, just close my eyes and go to my happy place. The place where I have a kind father that kisses his wife when he comes home from work. Joy and warmth fills the home, laughter echoes throughout the house. Autumn leaves fall dusting the front lawn with the white picket fence. There is no feeling of emptiness or loneliness, just love and unity. A place that is called home.
I’m slowly falling apart. I cannot handle this anymore. I wish someone would take a walk in my shoes, see how “easy” it is. I ache for a perfect family, a welcoming home and loving parents. Every time I look in the mirror, I see a broken soul. Simple features. Brown hair, pale brown eyes, button nose, rosy cheeks, spaces between my teeth. I look deeper into my eyes, stare down to peer into how I truly look. I put out such a hard outer shell, but deep down, I’m just Rachel Neville. I'm an average Jane. But am I capable of letting my guard down? Can I love? Or will I just be hurt? You can't see emotional scars, missing pieces of a broken heart, and you can never see what is hiding behind a smile.
“Where is my dinner?” Father shouted.
I almost forgot. While in a jumble, I frantically rummaged around the near empty refrigerator to only find a half gallon of sour milk, two eggs, stick of butter, celery and a few slices of cheese. “Almost done!” I yelled in return. I reached for a pan hanging over the counter on the chandelier. I grabbed the ingredients for a simple grilled cheese, slapped them together then onto the pan. The heat radiating off of the stove reminded me to come back to earth. Focus Rachel, but the tough face on, and go face him. The semi burned grilled cheese was tossed onto a plate, i made a simple cut to make two triangles. I hope he won't mind that it’s a little crusty. I opened the door and forced one foot in front of the other. With a shaky hand, the plate was passed. I shied away as soon as he snatched it.
“What is this?” He demanded.
“Grilled cheese father, we don't have much.” I avoided eye contact. My heart was racing. The recliner clicked as the leg rest was put down. I looked his way just in time to see his hand wound up, assuming position.
“How dare you insult me?” He was outraged.
His hand beat down onto my cheek, instantly I could feel the blood rushing to the scene. Out of instinct I dropped to the floor, both hands covering my cheek. In this state of vulnerability, he proceeded to kick me. One after the other, each hitting the identical spot. I heard a crack, and I yelped in pain, but he didn't stop. I close my eyes, and escape into my happy place.

The automatic doors open, a whoosh of bitter air strikes my face, theres an overpowering smell of hairspray, perfume and adolescence. There's an infestation of teens all divided into their “cliques”. We have the jocks, the Barbie’s, dweebs, know-it-alls, drama geeks then the outcasts. The roar of complaints come when the bell rings, the wave of kids begin to accumulate down the halls to their first class. I sit on a bench near a staircase, procrastinating going to my first period class. My first day here and my track record for being on time isn't starting out too well. The tardy bell rings, i get up look around, and see that i am standing by myself. Where do i go? Wheres my class? I meander around, then find myself looking at my reflection in a trophy case. I automatically look away as if I am ashamed of who I am. I see someone approaching me from behind. Instincts insisted that i turned around to see whom is approaching me, but I just stared at their reflection on the glass.
“Were four time state champions.” A deep husky voice answered. “And that’s only in football.” I turned around to see who was speaking. To my surprise, it was a fellow student. A breathtaking boy, with high testosterone, mysterious green eyes and wavy hair somewhere in between shaggy and short. “My name is Payton, Payton Ashton.” Everything about him seemed to be perfect, even his name was breathtaking. He dressed in the “norm”, a plaid collared button down that didn't even have a crinkle, tan khakis and a pair of unstuffed Sperry’s. His curly locks looked as if each lock was strategically placed, but everyone knows it comes naturally for him. It said that eyes are the gateway to the soul, but his green eyes seemed like a black hole because I couldn't seem to look away. His facial features were stunning; prominent cheekbones, two dimples, flawless teeth and a butterfly inflicting smile. “Are you new here?” he questioned.
I scrambled for words, but coming up with nothing. Rachel, pull yourself together, it’s just a tantalizing man with eyes that could melt even the darkest heart. Awestruck, I answered, “Yes sir.”
“Sir? Ha! You’re making me feel like an old man!” He chucked, throwing his head back and flashing his devilish smile. “You sound southern! Where ya from?”
“Georgia.” I replied, I could feel the blood pulsating through my body and rushing to my cheeks.
“Well Miss Lady, your accent is quite cute. What brings you to the west?” He giggled, obviously he finds himself humorous.
“My father, he forcefully relocated us.” I replied in an unsteady voice. The infamous giggle snuck out again, and so did a smile.
With a wide grin “You’re funny Georgia!”
Georgia? The name gave me butterflies and my heart to skip a beat. He barely knows me, yet he’s giving me nicknames? Is this a normal California hospitality? Or does he just think I’m cute? I chuckled, then hesitated. “Thank you, I think.” That made his laugh uproar.
“See!” Payton chuckled again. “So why here? Riverside of all places!”
The bell rang, “Saved by the bell.” With that said I turned and walked away. He chased after me.
“At least let me walk you to class, I bet you don’t even know where you’re going.”
I thought about this, I really have no idea where I am going. I’m in a foreign place, a new school, in a new town, in a new state. Everything is new. Those thoughts made me miss home. In Greensville, where the population is below a thousand. We all knew everything about everyone, we all got along, went to the same church and the people always welcome newcomers. But here, in Riverside California, I’ve had one person, and whom quite frankly won't leave me alone, welcome me. This is so different, I don't think I am going to like this.
Payton starred and waited patiently for a response, “Georgia, what’s your first class?” he politely asked. He watched me stumble over my works, look around as if something would help me, then watched me search for my class schedule.
“English.”
“With who Georgia, there’s a lot of English classes in this school.” He belittled me.
“Umm. Hinckley.” I stuttered.
“Follow me, and do not fall behind or ill beat ya butt!” He flashed his devilish smile then winked. This sent chills down my spine.
He set off, me close on his heels, for my first period class. “So Georgia, what’s your real name?”
Coping him I said, “Rachel, Rachel Neville.” A smile broke out, then a slight chuckle. With that said, we arrived at Mrs. Hinckley first period English class. He opened the door for me.
“Are you sure you're not from the south? Cause you're very polite!” He rolled his eyes at this statement.
“No ma’am! I’m just respectful, I’ll just say my daddy raised me right!” His impersonation of a southern accent was hysterical. I instantly broke out laughing, almost to the point of tears. “Have fun in class Georgia.” I walk in through the door, but he follows me in.
“Don't tell me you're in this class too.” I said unenthusiastically. He could sense the sarcasm in my voice.
“Looks like you're not going to get rid of me.” Replied in infamous Payton Ashton.
The next hour was easily the longest hour of my life. It avoided awkward eye contact with Payton, who was sitting directly across the table from me, multiple questions of who i was and where I was from, why I had an accent, if I was shy and the best of all, why in the hell would I move to Riverside California. From what I hear from my fellow “peers” is that Riverside is not the idea place for teenagers. You’re so close yet so far from San Diego, it’s over populated and overrated. No one likes it here. My English teacher made me introduce myself and give two facts about me. I was tempted to say “I'm Rachel Neville and i was forcefully relocated to this hell hole by my alcoholic abusive father.” But i didn't think that would make the best first impression. So i kept it original. “My name is Rachel Neville, I'm from a small town in Georgia and I like to read.” i figured that was appropriate due to the fact that i was in English class.
After a dreadful class period of obnoxious teenage drama, a lecture from the teacher and awkward eye contact with Payton, the teacher assigned a topic for the class to write about. How much of yourself can you actually be? I thought about this for a while. Is it possible to be you’re full, complete, without a doubt self at all times? Are you the same around your parents as you are your peers? Would you say the same things? Act the same way? Dress the same way? Would that person falter under peer pressure? Resist against temptation? Would our standards change depending on the situation?

Payton flashes a smile my way, takes a deep breath, and went to attempt to strike up yet another conversation, but i was saved by the bell. I jump out of my seat, grabbed my backpack and the textbook the teacher gave me and practically ran out the door. “Rachel!” I heard from behind me, but i didn't hesitate. I didn't stop until i felt a hand on my shoulder. “You can’t run away from me!” I rolled my eyes. Why oh why won’t he leave me alone? I just want to get through this day and get it over with.

“Georgia, come to lunch with me today?” Payton begged. I turned back around to face him.
“Why can't i get rid of you?”
“Ouch Georgia, can’t i welcome you? Get to know you?”
I stood there, speechless. He does have a good point, he can welcome me to this hell hole, but he’s going about it all wrong. I don’t like being out there, and this kid is way, way, way out there. I snapped, “Just because you want to doesn’t mean i do.” His jaw dropped from astonishment, and so did mine. Why did i just say that? Appalled, he turned on his heels, shook his head, and left me standing in the crowded hallway to feel ashamed of what i just said. I watched him walk away, and sneak a peek over his right shoulder, a look at utter disgust and hatred covered his face. The warning bell rang, people swarmed around me, but i stood still, still in awe from what just slipped out of my mouth.

The next two class periods were a blur. I kept thinking about the conversation. His face of hurt and anguish was imprinted in my mind. How could i have messed up any more? I just couldn't stop thinking of him.

With him in mind, i see him leaving his third period class. We make eye contact, he breaks it and turns to walk the other way. “Payton!” I hollered down the hall, he looks over his shoulder. “Wait up!” I ran to his side. “Hey i wanted to apologize.” Payton was ignoring me, i tried to keep up with his fast steps. “I didn’t mean what i said, I’m just not used to someone,” I paused, choking on my words.
“You’re not used to what Rachel?” He said it so bluntly i could almost taste the hatred.
My words wouldn't come out. I looked down at my feet, choking on my words. “I’m not used to someone actually being nice.” I whispered. Automatically his facial expression softened.

A smirk broke out. “Georgia, you’ve gotta get used to it cause like i said you’re not getting rid of me.” He giggled, that made me smile. “Come on!” He put his arm around me, “We have a lunch date.”

We walked, arm in arm, through the lunchroom. I kept my head down, but Payton, with a grin from ear to ear. He wore me on his arm proudly, and i for one, was not used to this. I could hear people whispering. “Who’s that?” “Lucky girl.” “Is that the new girl?” Payton didn't pay attention, he just walked me through the lunchroom and out the front door of the school to his car. His car fit him, a brand new, navy blue, lifted jeep, with the top off of course. I looked down at my outfit. Tight jeans. How am i going to get in? I looked up to his to meet his overly excited eyes. I swear he can read minds because he opened the door and swept me off my feet. I yelped out due to me not expecting it. He cradled me like a small child and placed me gingerly into the passenger seat. He even put my seatbelt on! We look at each other for a brief while, he stared into my eyes like he's known me for his own life. That devilish smile came again, and the skip of my heart happened too.

He practically ran to the driver’s side, flung his door open and pulled himself up into his jeep. The smile has yet to leave his face. “Ya ready?”
“Yeah, you pretty much did everything for me!” I giggled.
“You’re welcome.” he said with a hint of sass. He started the jeep, and to my surprise it startled me. I wasn't expecting it to be so loud.
“Easy there turbo, it’s just the jeepers.” He mocked.

We didn't even make it to lunch, we just drove around. I got the “official” tour of Riverside California. Payton showed me where people hang out, where to go to eat, to shop, where he lived, and just about everything in between. He wouldn't shut up, i just listened, looked out the window and stared at his breathtaking features. The California sun obviously loved him, it reflected and highlighted all the right places, everywhere from his sandy blonde hair, the contours of his muscles, even his eyes seemed to illuminate. He seemed to be in his own little world. Is he always this nice to all new people? What does he want from me?

“Why are you being so nice to me?” I piped up.
“We’ve already established this.” He bluntly replied.
“But why? I've lived here for three days, and you've known me for how long? Not even 6 hours? Yet you're being so incredibly nice.”
“I'm just showing some western hospitality Georgia, why can't you just accept the fact that there are nice people in this world? God.” I could tell he was getting mad.
“I just don't understand why.” My voice rose with anger.
“I think your cute and southern accents are my weakness. Ok?” That shut me up. Someone actually thinks I’m cute? Actually likes me?

We returned to school shortly after. Words were not exchanged between us since his comment was made until we pulled into the school and parked. He looked over at me, pushed his hair back so it wouldn’t be in his eyes. That made my heart melt. “Rachel, I know this was really awkward for you, and entirely out of your comfort zone,” he hesitated and took a deep breath, “but i really enjoyed this.” Payton looked deep into my eyes and flashed that awe striking smile.

I had so much to say, i wanted to say the only reason he enjoyed it was because he did all the talking, or the only reason he’s hanging out with me is because he pities me. Him and i are complete opposites, he’s popular and always knows what to say. Hess a big hit with the ladies, every girl in sunny California wants Payton Ashton. Hess the captain of the football team, student body president, FFA chairman, all American football player, president of the national honors society and a straight a student. I'm just Rachel. I can write and read well. 8The complete opposite of him. But I guess it is said that opposites attract.

"Thanks." I simple gesture was all I could respond with. His face showed that he wanted a less discrete response. Something with more substance, but after a while he just smiled and hoped out circled the front of the jeep to open my door. I unfastened my seatbelt and swung my legs out and prepared myself for the drop down to the ground.
"Nice dismount, very graceful." He chuckled, the sarcasm wasn't hidden well, I sensed it right off the bat.
"Thanks." I replied.
"You okay? I am not liking these one worded responses." He acted like he actually cared. I don't mean to give him these one worded responses, I just don't know what to say.
"I'm fine. See that's two words, one more than the last time." Payton bursts out laughing at that, I think he finds me funny.
"Good job Georgia, were getting somewhere!" He hesitated, he was preparing for something. Maybe even rummaging up the courage to ask me something. For this first time he looked away, as if ashamed he couldn't get the words out. He took a deep breath in, which made his broad chest expand, tightening his shirt causing to show every curve and edge of his muscular body. I tried to contain my awe, tightening my jaw to make sure it wouldn’t drop. He looked back my way, looking into in murky brown eyes, for the first time in my life i actually wanted to make eye contact. I wanted to stare deep into those dreamy eyes, look deep.
“Cat got your tongue?” I asked.
He exhaled and chuckled, as if relieved. “Ha, i guess you can say that.” there was a brief hesitation, “what are you doing after school?” He had a nervous look on his face, he reminded me of a lost puppy, and I could almost hear the whimper.
I’ve never had a boy come over, my heart was racing and anxiety swept over me. I looked down at my hands and saw my bruise infested forearms, immediately i pull down my sleeves bashfully and attempted to shrug off the fact that he was watching me and most likely saw them. Unable to form a simple response, no nod, no gesture, nothing. It was drawing up a blank. So i turned on my heels and practically ran away. Tears swelled, i tried to fight them back but i just couldn’t. I could hear him calling after me, but i bee lined to the bathrooms. He caught me before i could reach for the door. Payton grabbed my shoulders, turned me around and wrapped his arms around me. His chin rested on the top of my head, i wrapped my arms around his waist, and I don’t know I’m being like this, what is my problem? He drew me in closer, i now could feel his heart beating, his breath on the top of my head and i could smell his pleasant cologne. Tears escaped my eyes, I’m beyond overwhelmed. I was being held by a boy i barely knew, and he barely knew me, in a foreign place, surrounded by teenaged strangers. But somehow, it managed to just feel right.

I pulled away and looked at him, he had a massive sincere smile from ear to ear. “I’m sorry, that was very inconsiderate of me. I crossed the line.” i put his hands on my shoulders, “I know you’re new, and you barely know me, but there’s just,” that’s dang cat has his tongue again, “there’s just something about you. You’re so different from every other girl. I want to know you better.”
Her i am, little Rachel Neville, a girl from a small southern town with nothing all that unique about her, was told that she’s different from probably one of the most gorgeous man i have ever laid eyes on. But there was a part of me telling me “what the heck are you doing Rachel, this is a no good, spoiled rotten rich kid that wants something from you, and that something is not something you want to give.”
I was blushing, i could feel the blood pulsating in my cheeks. He barely knows me, what could be so special about me? The bell rang and he just looked at me, the world seemed so still. But he just had to ruin the moment. “Saved by the bell, again.” that laughed erupted again.

The same smell greeted me; cigarette smoke, booze and an insanely overwhelming scent of aftershave and cologne. My father was in his usual spot, in the recliner, holding a glass of whiskey. My father, Michael Albert Neville, was a very sophisticated and well educated man, but everything went downhill when mom died. Father sold his firm, his vacation homes, cars, just about every luxury that reminded him of her. He changed the way he dressed, the way he acted, almost every aspect of his life changed. My parents met at Harvard, he played football, and she cheered. It was a normal love story, a reverse of Taming of the Shrew, crazy party boy meets sophisticated mellow girl. Marriage came after graduation and me two years after. They moved to my hometown, dad opened up a firm, mom was just being a mom. We were a happy, perfect little family. But nothing stays perfect for long.
“Rachel, is that you?” His words slurred, he was obviously drunk.
“Yes father.” I answered back, in a stern yet subtle voice.
“How was school?” I entered the room, and for once i forced eye contact upon him.
“Fine, nothing too special. I made some friends.”
“Hmm, is that so?” He seemed amused by the fact that it’s possible for me to actually communicate with fellow human beings.
“Yes father.” Looking away from him so he couldn’t taunt me, i evaluated my surroundings; the crystal bottle on the banister only had reminisce of liquor, one glass was missing from the cluster of four, fathers shoes were sitting neatly next to his seat, and our family picture was laying in his lap. The emptiness in my heart arose. He promised me he wouldn’t have those out. There was a knot in the back of my throat. “What is that?”
Dad looked down at his lap, quickly snatched up the picture and turned it so i couldn't see her face. “It’s nothing. I was just, just reminiscing.”
Here comes the water works, I raced to my room, shoulders hunched over, and sobs protruding to the surface. It seemed like every memory of her flashed in a single second. Her life, her legacy, her everything. Stumbling up the stairs i threw my bedroom door open and flung myself onto my bed and let out helpless sobs into my pillow. I’d give anything for a mothers nurturing touch again, those soft kisses on the top of your head that made your heart melt, anything just to have my mom back so everything will go back to normal. Then my mind brought me back to Payton. He made me feel safe and at peace. Oh how I’d do anything to be back in those arms again. For some reason, i was able to stop the sobs and be semi at ease with myself. I was able collect my scattered thoughts and construct solid emotions and drive myself to stop the sobs and pick myself up. I rolled over, my chest felt like a weight has been lifted and i was able to breathe again. I swung my legs to the side of my bed, rubbed my near swollen eyes and went down to have a possible terse conversation with my father.

I crept slowly down the stairs, one hand on the wall to keep balance, i stopped on the edge of the last step. It was almost as if a vortex was keeping me from entering into the family room where my father sat, crying. I could hear his muffled sniffles from my room, I’ve never seen my father cry. My heart broke, but i stood there, paralyzed. I lurched forward of the last step, i felt as if i was jumping into the middle of a battle zone with my heart on my sleeve. Rounding the corner to face my father, he senses my presence and automatically perks up and throws his guard back up. He stiffens up throws his broad shoulders back and puts on a stern face.
“What are you doing down here?” He questions in a blunt voice.
“I love you daddy.” I could tell that caught him off guard, his face, almost instantly, softened. I continued, “I do, I really do.”
He hid his face from me, but he didn’t do a good job at doing so. I could see the tears running down his pale cheeks. He got up as if uncomfortable in the situation i have put him in, and proceeded to the table and rested a hand down as if uneasy. He hunched over, and broke down. The crystal bottle was within inches of his hand, i rushed to his side and place a hand gingerly down on his lean body. His breathing was rapid and the hysterics were hitting. My hand placement didn’t seem to help.
“I, I’m,” his voice broke, he was choking back the tears. “I’m sorry.”
I have been waiting for years for him to say that, but this didn’t seem right. Not at this time of vulnerability. He was drunk, broken hearted and confused. But honestly i will take the apology any way possible.
“I’m sick of finding you at the bottom of the bottle,” i started to cry, “I miss the old you. I know mom is gone, and i know nothing is the same. But i want you back dad.” He stood up straight which caused my hand to fall to my side and he turned to me.
“I’m numbing the pain!” He screamed. Instincts said run, but i resisted and stood strong, channeling my inner mom.
“But hurting me isn’t the answer!” Anger snuck into my voice. I don’t think he was expecting me to raise my voice.

Solemnly he retreated back, i could almost see an instant change in him. He just needed a little push. He put both arms around me and pulled me into a warm embrace. “Were going to get through this.” And with that said he exited the room and left me there confused. Still astonished about what just happened and don’t know if i should be happy, feel relief, or to be overjoyed that i stood up to him. At the exact moment, the phone rang, interrupting my thoughts. The wireless was on the coffee table, i reached for it as the last ring sang out.

“Neville residents.” i hope i covered up the sadness well enough.
“Georgia!” I stomach dropped.
“How did you get this number?” I demanded.
“It’s amazing what you can find on the internet.” He replied with a hint of sassy. “Go look on you front porch.” And with that said the other end of the phone went dead.

Confused, i walked out into the hallway and looked blankly at the pale blue door. What on earth could be out on my front porch? Better yet how does he know where i live? I approached the door, inhaled a deep breath and slowly opened the door. And there it was, a vase filled with a dozen white lilies, my favorite flower. How does this boy know so much about me? My favorite flower, where i live, my phone number. I obviously have a stalker.
I picked up the vase, there was a note attached. “Cheer up buttercup.” That simple statement and gesture turned my day around.

It was just an average Saturday night, the night was young, the sun was just setting over the trees horizon, and the southern heat was just about to break. In the backwoods of Georgia, past the old school house and family owned country store, down the old winding dirt road you'll come across the worn colonial. The paint revealed obvious weathering, the elaborate iron entry creaked on its hinges. There was missing bricks on the cobblestone drive and the surrounding woods were lit up in reds and blues. Police tape blocked off all entry into the mansion, hounds’ barks echoed through the trees. Search parties, policemen, volunteers, search and rescue, ambulances, fire trucks, everyone was in search of one woman.

Two hours into the search and nothing has came up. The search party has walked the two hundred surrounding acres. The thick woods made it close to impossible to stay on track, the swampy ground made it hard to walk, but it was easy to hide a body. The scent was fresh, but yet none could find the body. Had it been buried? Has the woods engulfed her? The search went throughout the night, and the worried husband and small daughter stayed indoors. he begged to join the search party, but he was never going to leave his five year olds side.

“Tell me what happened one last time” Asked the lead investigator.

“I picked up Rachel from ballet and headed home, when i came inside i found dinner burnin’ in the oven and my wife was missing’, but blood was on the counter and that knife was on the ground. i sent Rachel upstairs to her room, but thats when i heard footsteps coming from the living room. I told her to run and lock the door behind her. I went into the living room with the knife, but the front door opened and that man was running out into the woods.”

“Did you see his face?” Asked the policeman

No sir, he was wearing a hood and” he paused, “I never got a good look at him. “I chased after him, fell a few times, thats how i got these”, he shrugged off his jacket to reveal some cuts and bruises on his forearm and bicep. “I just kept running, i tried to find him but then i remembered that Rachel was still in there. He could have gone back in. So i ran talk to the house.” There was no tears, just a stern voice and an lurkingly calm daughter.

I forced myself to wake up, my heart was racing. Sweat matted the hair on the back of my neck, my breathing was rapid and i couldn't get my thoughts straight. This vivid dream recurs so often, but sometimes it varies. My mom is sometimes, like i hope was true, was found alive. I drug myself out of bed, looked at my alarm clock, it read two forty seven, slipped my plush slippers on and walked downstairs in a daze, replaying the dream in my head. I found myself in my fathers room, he was in bed, still sound asleep. His comforter was cocooned around him so i tugged on the blanket, he rolled over to evaluate the situation. I threw it open so i could slip inside. The bed was warm and smelled strongly of my fathers cologne. I looked at me with a scowl. “What are you doing?” He questioned in a sleepish voice.

“I had a bad dream.” I closed my eyes and prepared myself for the inevitable. But instead, he scooted himself close to me, slip his arm under the pillow which i laid on, and began to talk to me.

“What was you dream about?”

“Mom. How it all happened.” That caught him off guard, he staggered for a deep breath. “I miss her dad.” I started to sob.

I could feel my fathers heart beat through his arm which was beneath my pillow, it was pulsing through his body, i could tell his heart was racing due to the fact that the topic was my mother, who was murderer. “I miss her dad, its just not fair. I shouldnt have to deal with starting my period, going on a first date. She would have been so extatic about the fact that i got flowers from a boy!”

“Wait a second, someone sent you flowers?” I got caught, and i could sense the frustration and anger in the dark.

“Yeah, Payton gave them to me.” i answered gingery.

“I know, he called me and asked me what your favorite flowers were. I actually had to think about it, and i came up with nothing,” he drew in a deep breath, “then i remembered at moms funeral,” he sniffs, i think he was crying, but i couldnt tell because of the dark, “you placed a single white lily with a red ribbon on moms grave before you left. So i told him lillies were your facorite.”

For the first time in the longest time, i felt loved by my father. By the time he finished his sentence i was already hysterical. All i could think about was how my mom would love Payton. Payton is sweet, genuine, humorous, real, smart and a hopeless romantic. She would absolutely love him!

“Wait he called you?” I was astonished and the mood changed.

“Yup.” He does like repeating himself.

“Oh, well that explains a lot.” Dad rolled over and looked at the clock.

“Its almost three. You have school in the morning.” and with that said he settled into his bed and gripped tightly to the oversized pillow. Cuddling it as if it was mom. “Good night Rachel.”

“Night dad.” I rolled over and settled into my dads foreign bed, it was actually quite confortable so i fell asleep quickly.

I woke up refreshed and energized to face the day. I pounced out of bed and into the shower, with payton on my mind. I made sure to wash my hair twice and my body three, shave my legs and even brush my teeth in the shower. Ya know, killing two birds with one stone. I took my sweet time doing my hair and makeup, making sure not a hair was curly or out of place and my eyeliner was precise, eyelashes were long and thick. I wore my, in my opinion, my cutest outfit i owned. Which wasnt that fancy compared to the california norm. It was simple outfit, jeans, white tank top with a knitted sweater and my mothers Doc Martens.


My dad hollered for me to come downstairs for breakfast, which was unusual. I took one last long look in the mirror to make sure i looked like utter perfection. And that i did. My long locks seemed to fall like paytons, my make up looked as if a professional has done it. Come to think of it, for never exercising i looked like i was in shape. Ill thank my high metabolism and stress for that. I felt beautiful. Looking away from the mirror i open the door of the bathroom, expecting the usual smell of my dads morning booze, i was surprised to smell a masking smell of bacon.


“Morning sweetie, you look ravishing!” He looked at me from head to toe with a giant grin on his face.

“Thanks daddy.” i could tell that melted his heart.


When i arrived at school i felt like everyone was staring. They stared yesterday, but this is a completely different kind of stare. This kind of stare was an admiration kind of stare, the look back after i walked by sort of stare. Do i really look that different? Or is it due to Payton and me being the fresh meat?


Payton approached me with a giant grin. He swept me up in a warm embrace and spun me in a circle. He set me down and rested his hands on my shoulders. He was wearing a pair of worn Rock Revival jeans and a flannel button down. Looking sharp as always. “Like your lillies?”

“They were beautiful!”

“Of course id buy a beautiful flower for a beautiful little gal!” He said with a wink. “And you look stunning today! Easily the prettiest girl in this school.”

I was blushing. “Thats one of the nicest things anyone has ever told me.”

He continued “And you’re the most beautiful person inside and out. I cant wait to get to know you even more!”

I was flattered! “I cant either!”

“So dinner tonight?”

i answered without even thinking about asking and with much enthusiasm than i planned. “Yes! I can not wait!”

“kay ill pick ya up at six, i know where you live.” with that said we walked away and left me twitterpated and feeling lovestruck.


Could i be in love? i dont even know what love is? The most spectacular,indescribable, deep euphoric feeling for someone


Love is an incredibly powerful word. When you're in love, you always want to be together, and when you're not, you're thinking about being together because you need that person and without them your life is incomplete.


This love is unconditional affection with no limits or conditions: completely loving someone. It's when you trust the other with your life and when you would do anything for each other. When you love someone you want nothing more than for them to be truly happy no matter what it takes because that's how much you care about them and because their needs come before your own. You hide nothing of yourself and can tell the other anything because you know they accept you just the way you are and vice versa.


It's when they're the last thing you think about before you go to sleep and when they're the first thing you think of when you wake up, the feeling that warms your heart and leaves you overcome by a feeling of serenity. Love involves wanting to show your affection and/or devotion to each other. It's the smile on your face you get when you're thinking about them and miss them.


Love can make you do anything and sacrifice for what will be better in the end. Love is intense,and passionate. Everything seems brighter, happier and more wonderful when you're in love. If you find it, don't let it go.


I couldnt wait for six oclock to roll around!


EIGHT HOURS LATER

“Rachel your dates here!” my dad hollered up to me.

“Okay, ill be down in a second.” I screamed. my heart was racing, my palms were sweating and i had a swarm of butterflies in my tummy. I walked down the stairs to meet my father, looking oftly dashing might i add, and to meet gorgeous Payton, who was wearing what he wore to school. I could smell his cologne, the same as my fathers, Acqua Di Gio, it smelled heaven sent.

“Wow.” That was all he could get out.

“Now kiddos, drive save, wear your seatbelts and keep your hands to yourselves.” My father demanded.

“Yes sir.” Payton replied respectfully.

He opened the door and we stepped outside to the brisk fall air. It sent a shiver down my spine. He proceeded to cross the front of his jeep to open my door and before i could even blink, i was in his muscular arms and on my way into the passanger seat of his massive jeep. He sprinted the the drivers side and leaped in.

“Ya ready?” He questioned.

“Yup!”

“So tell me,” oh no, here we go, “what is the worst date youve ever been on?”


“Well, The worst date I ever went on was with a guy I'd known in middle school. Jack was the captain of the basketball team, an A+ student, and all-around good guy whom I'd only admired from afar during my eighth grade year. I saw him at a party one year later, and we ended up having a conversation. By the end of the evening, we had dinner plans for a few nights later. He picked me up right on time and had the reservations made — all good signs, right? WRONG! The gregarious guy from the party apparently had left on a permanent vacation, and I was suddenly sitting next to Mr. Silent. Then, a couple Jack knew sat behind us, and he proceeded to turn completely around and have a conversation with them. He didn't even acknowledge my presence! It was horrifying. My saving grace was a friend of mine who happened to be waitressing that night. She saved me with an "emergency" phone call. Jack didn't even offer to drive me home when I announced I had to leave; he said "okay" and kept on talking! The best part of the story? He actually called me the next day and asked if I wanted to go out again!”


“Hm, good advice. Hopefully ill do the opposite.” He chuckled.

“Whats yours?”

“I was at a nearby state park with Denise on our second date during the dog days of summer. She kicked off her shoes and socks and waded knee-deep into the water. She emerged with a few leeches on her legs. She screamed and shook and flailed. I told her to calm down so I could help, but she smashed her legs against nearby tree trunks and tore off down the paved path, leaving her shoes and socks behind. I grabbed them and hurried after her.I didn't find her back at the main entrance, though her car was still there. I looked around and around and I called for her, but there was simply no sign of her anywhere. I waited around a bit and finally went home. She called me a couple of hours later to say that she had found someone to help her remove the leeches and also to say that she was furious at me for leaving her there. I reminded her that she ran away from me after I had tried to help her. She said that I should've run faster and tried harder. I hung up on her because she was being stupid. She called me back a few minutes later. I picked up because I felt bad, but she shouted verbatim an encyclopedia article about leeches at me. When she wouldn't let me put in a word, I hung up on her again. She called me back, I let it go to voicemail, and she left a screaming message with the rest of the encyclopedia entry she was reading. On one hand, I learned a lot about leeches that day. On the other, I also learned that a relationship with Denise wouldn't be right for me. So I guess it all worked out.”


I was laughing hysterically, on the verge of tears i turned to look at him. He was looking at me with this look in his eyes. Is he in love with me? Am i in love with him?


Through thousands of years the feeling of being ‘in love’ has been described as one of the most beautiful ever. A person ‘in love’ is optimistic, humane and most importantly has the ability to love a fellow human being. All through your life you may have many people. These people include parents, relatives, siblings, friends, etc. However, ‘in love’ is different than loving all those around you. Love is very difficult to describe. This subtle feeling may occur because of a single look, smell, words, appearance can change the way you feel about someone. Though most of the time it is the physical appearance that that plays a huge role in initially attracting someone to you. However, love is not just a physical attraction; it is as spiritual and emotional as physical. Therefore, if people do not vibe will with each other spiritually, physical attraction may wear off soon.

When you are ‘in love’ you will feel a strong bond between you and the other person. You will always be on the lookout for this person. You will be happy whenever the person you are in love which acknowledges you. This acknowledgement could be a mere look, a polite nod, etc. The feeling of being in love is one of the most beautiful of them all. You will find that everything around you is bright, sunny, optimistic, happy, etc. Being in love is a unique experience all human being should undergo. The experience can teach us reach new heights in maintaining and nurturing relationship.

It is difficult to conceal love from others especially when the person you love is around you. People who know you well will immediately notice the difference in your attitude. When you are ‘in love’ there is no hiding your feelings as much you may try. You will end up expressing love one way or the other.

Your being in love however should be conveyed to the right person perfectly. Again in the matters of the heart the faster you convey the better it is. There are many ways you can convey these feelings. However, you should know whether this person nurtures similar feelings towards you.

You can know whether or not the person you are in love with. You can simply use some practical knowledge and divine signals. This can be conveyed to you successfully through psychics. They can use the information or photograph of the person and summon special energies for letting you know whether the person you are in love with is in love with you too.

You will find psychics can guide you the best during this time of deep confusion. You will also know whether or not this is love in reality or it is simply infatuation which will wear off within no time. With the helps of psychics you will also know the right time for letting this person know about your feelings. You can also know whether or not the person you are interested in is not really in love with someone else.

Your being in love is precious. You should try and use actual psychics and not software programs, only real psychics can guide you aptly and help you out of the confusion. You will also know clearly whether or not you should go ahead with love. Using software or free scams will leave you on a wrong trail. In fact, you could be misguided if you use this automatic, instant, free service. It would always be better if you can gain help from a genuine psychic and gain help in precious matters of heart.


I think im in love.

After three hours in the malt shop full of laughter, serious moments, jokes, embarrassment and lots of butterflies in the tummy. We sat in the jeep, overlooking the valley, just talking. Wave been talking for five hours straight now.
“You’re beautiful.”
“Thank you.”
He looked at me with those beautiful eyes.
“Why are you staring?” I asked.
"Because... I thought you didn't like me the way I like you."
"I do like you, Marissa, a lot. But I can't seem to find the right words to tell you."
"You just did."
He breaks down in tears. Feelings of worthlessness, anxiety and self-despair rushed to him. "I feel worthless, I can never make my parents proud of me. Everything I do disappoints them." he stutters, "I got to the point where my whole family gave up, so I did too." The tears swelled, then rushed down his cheeks one after the other. "I just want to feel loved, like every other child is. You, you helped me feel love, which I thought was impossible for me." His eyes looked back and forth, avoiding eye contact. "When I first saw you, I knew we would be together, I had this feeling in my gut, and my heart, that you were going to change my,” his voice gave way, a deep inhale and a strong exhale were repeated. "I hate crying, it makes me feel so vulnerable. I haven't cried since the day my parents divorced," scrambling for breath, he pauses to get his cool, "that was six years ago." Unable to catch his breath between tears, he continued "Rachel, we met for a reason. We can relate. I felt alone and worthless, you're showing me that there's a light at the end of the road," I wrap my arms around him and pulled him in close. Payton threw his body down onto my lap. "You came into my life for a reason Rachel. I was at the end of my rope, and you tied yours to mine." Tears feel into my lap. "You're the strongest, most beautiful person inside and out and have so much self-worth, thank you for being my friend."
"We did meet for a reason." A whisper was all that could escape. "Both of us were in a time of need." Tears were swelling, I told myself I wasn't going to cry. "Without you I could have never done what I've done...”
"You've always had the strength to do it, but never the power."
"You gave me the power."
"Rachel, you gave me my life back." My control gave way, I started sobbing.
"I didn't give you your life back, I showed you love." I whispered.
And that was when my perspective changed. I wasn't going to let people nor my family walk all over me. My mother once told me, "A woman wasn't created from a bone from the foot to be walked on, nor a bone from the head to be superior. But from the side to be equal, under the arm to be protected and next to the heart to be loved."
“Well this all escalated quickly.”
Things became awkward, “yeah...”

I came home from my date to find my father waiting in his usual place, drunk. I entered the room to begin my lecture. “I’m sick of finding you at the bottom of a whiskey bottle!” My temper raised, i wanted my point to come across. “You’ve been an alcoholic ever since mom died, you've haven't even been a dad to me!” Tears were beginning to swell. I tried to control my emotions, i will not waste my tears on you. I ended up storming to my room and retreating to beneath my blankets and began to cry myself to sleep.
I awoke the following morning to a dozen white lilies on the kitchen counter. I automatically assumed they were from Payton, but the letter attached read differently.
Yes I love you, you are my only child and I miss the old Rachel, the Rachel who smiled and laughed a lot. The Rachel who used to hug me and even give me a kiss, that pretty Rachel that was fun and happy, who loved to play cards and Risk with me even though your mom hates the game. I miss that Rachel who was not hiding in her room, the one that simply said “Hi dad” when I got home from work, the Rachel who used to want to go hunting with me & fishing. I miss that healthy Rachel with the beautiful thick hair and beautiful colored skin.
Rachel I know you are in there, but this is hiding the real you, the death of mom turned you into an angry person, a depressed person, a person that does not want to be around me. It has taken the Rachel i I know and made her bitter. Rachel am an alcoholic, I know the feeling of being out of control, I know that feeling of not being able to see myself for what I had really become…… a damn drunk! I felt when I was drinking as if I was okay, that nothing was wrong with me, I looked in the mirror and I did not see the swollen face or the bloodshot glazed over eyes, I looked just fine to me! Rachel when I was drinking I did not see myself as angry or mean, I thought it was you and everyone else that was being disrespectful to me. I kept on thinking I was in control of my drinking even though all of you could tell I was out of control, I was a damn drunk!!! Rachel I know now why you all hated me and had no respect for me, I reached the point where I hated myself! I wanted to stop drinking but I could not, I was powerless over alcohol, I could not stop! My drinking was so bad that I knew I could not manage to live my life if I kept on drinking, I knew if I did not stop drinking I was going to die, I was powerless over alcohol and I could not manage my life! Hun, once I reached this point I had no idea how to stop drinking, I only knew I had to stop, at that point I put myself into detox. In detox I learned all about alcoholism and how it controlled me when I drank, I learned it was a disease, one that was destroying me physically, mentally, & also destroying my spirit!
Sweetheart when I went into detox I was lost, I knew I had to do something but I did not know what. I learned in detox that in order to get better I had to change, not only did I have to stop drinking, but I had to change myself into a better person in order to not drink again.
As I am sure you have seen, I am slowly becoming a different man, I have gone from being a damn drunk, to a father, and a good person who helps others. How did I do this? By following directions from other people who had been where I was at and had by working the 12 steps of AA gone from being like I was a useless drunk to useful people to society and their families.

I want you to be in control of yourself, not your emotions. I want you to be able to see yourself through Rachel’s eyes and not the eyes of grief. Rachel, once you see yourself with your own eyes and not the eyes of your emotions, you will want to get better. I want you to see that it is not Rachel that hates Rachel, it is emotions that hates Rachel!!!

Rachel I want you to learn that you are a good person, I want you to learn how to take control away from emotions, you can do this, you can become Rachel again. Right now you do not have the power alone to take back control of yourself. Honey your dad loves you with all his heart, my heart aches knowing that in order to save your life and get the old Rachel back you have to go through hardships.
I love you with all our hearts and really look forward to having you back home as soon as you are ready. When you get home the whole family will be here to help you to keep anorexia under control.
With all the love in the world,
Dad



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