This is what I learned after seventeen years of living with my family.
One: love is an unachievable concept you delude yourself into thinking you can obtain.
Two: those beautifully-sculpted families seen on TV are nothing but big fat lies.
Three: forever is just a word. One word, in a world of lies, in a world of deception. And one measly little thing surrounded by all of that doesn’t stand a chance.
In understanding that, I also determined one more thing. That I had to get out. As fast as possible, or I was in danger of completely losing my mind. Luckily, because my family was just that screwed up and I wasn’t exactly the favored child, my absence wasn’t missed. In fact, my bet was on the fact they hadn’t yet even realized I was gone.
My grandfather was an—eccentric fellow. I knew spending a summer with him wouldn’t be normal, but I didn’t expect to be dragged to a wedding the day that I arrived. And that was where I was, wearing the one dress I brought as a last-minute decision (thank God I did), sitting next to my grandfather in the pews at the church, waiting for it to be over. It wasn’t that I didn’t delight in the wonderful matrimony between a man and a woman for all eternity, but I didn’t even know them. And all I really wanted to do was face-plant in my bed and catch up on the seven hours of sleep I lost because stupid planes made me nauseas.
After I stifled my eighth yawn, my grandfather nudged me lightly with his elbow.
“Careful,” he muttered, “or people will think you have somewhere else you’d rather be.”
“But there is,” I replied in a hushed tone. “And that place has a pillow and a blanket.”
He chuckled. “Come on, Lily. A wedding isn’t so bad.”
“It is when I feel like the walking dead.”
“Now you’re just being melodramatic.”
I grumbled, slouching in the seat and folding my arms tightly across my chest. The preacher was talking, and I wished he would just get to the “I do’s” already. The bride was busting anyway, sprouting a nine-month-pregnant belly. I wasn’t sure how much longer she was going to stay standing, much less keep that baby in her.
“Emmalyn and Rhys, I now pronounce you husband and wife. You may kiss your bride.”
There were catcalls and wolf-whistles as the groom grabbed his new wife and really planted one on her. Honestly, it seemed a bit much for a church wedding. Especially when it surpassed its allotted ten seconds. And then twenty seconds. My grandfather shifted awkwardly beside me.
“Hey now, we don’t need a sneak peek into the honey moon!” someone cried out, which caused the happy couple at the front to break away with laughter. Most of the crowd, unable to keep it in, chuckled along as well. Awesome. It was just fucking fantastic. Could I go to sleep, now?
“Isn’t that just wonderful?” my grandfather sighed whimsically, clapping along with the crowd. “You know, I taught the both of them seven years ago, I did.”
I snorted. “Isn’t it time for you to retire, Grandpa?
He gave me a flat look. “I enjoy what I do, and I’m good at it. Is that such a crime?”
“Whatever.”
The crowd began dispersing as the bride and groom walked down the aisle and out of the room. I rose, stretching my back, hoping I would finally be able to grab that elusive shred of sleep, but I was sadly mistaken. “Not yet,” Grandpa said, as if reading my mind. “I want you to meet them first.”
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Teen Fiction(TH#4)"His mind is a chaotic mess, built of the kind of stuff you read about in a Stephen King novel. He couldn't control his anger any more than I could control my stomach from rumbling when I was hungry. He thought cursing like a sailor at others...
