Save Me

Chapter 1

Chapter 1

Plain walls, empty shelves, empty closet, everything empty and gone. I hadn't even left yet and it had already begun to look like I had never even lived there in the first place.

I lay there on my mattress-that's all that was left of my bed-trying to wrap my head around what was happening. I had never thought about why bad things happened to good people, but now I found that it was the only thought in my head.

I had never stolen, never done drugs, drank a few times-but never to the point where I felt like my brain would ooze out of my ears. It didn't make sense to me. I turned onto my other side and looked out the window, only to see the moon and the stars, my friends who never failed to greet me during those sleepless nights.

I wondered what people were doing this very moment. It was a Friday night; everyone at school was probably out seeing a movie, partying, doing something they wanted to do. And what was I doing? Lying down in an empty room waiting for a cab that would ship me off to a foreign country to go live with my aunt that I hadn't seen since I was a year old.

Perfect....More than anything, I wanted to cry. I wanted to cry my eyes out and sob into my pillow until I got a headache. After all, it's what I had been doing for the past three months. Somehow, that felt better than just being there, with all my emotions bottled up inside my body. But, no, I had already cried my heart out. My eyes still stung from it. I reached up and wiped my eyes on the back of my sleeve, getting eyeliner on my sweatshirt. I guess waterproof eyeliner wasn't so waterproof anymore after hours of nonstop crying.

I never even got to say goodbye. Not to this town, not to anything or anyone-not that I really had friends to say goodbye to. Up to a few hours from now, I had no idea I'd be leaving this place I've known my whole life. Now, I shifted my body so that I looked up at the ceiling. Another thought. What will I be doing in the next eleven to twelve hours? I'd be in London, catching another flight to my stranger's-a more suitable title than aunt-small town. What was it called? I didn't remember; all of England's towns and cities sounded rather the same in some way or another.

What would it be like? Besides the time I went on a cruise ship once for a family vacation, I had never really been out of the country, let alone somewhere like England. Would it be a cliché scene when I got there, cloudy but quaint? Or would it be completely different than I expected? I was so unsure of everything. . .Dad.

Was this his way of dealing with me? Getting rid of me? Because that's definetely going to make everything okay. He'd be here alone, and I'd be thousands of miles away trying to avoid my stranger, with no place to hide or escape.Then again, I guess we'd really both be alone.

Alone. Why would he do this to me? Why would he force me to leave everyone and everything familiar just to go live with a stranger? Because I couldn't be his little princess anymore. Because I hurt too much. That's why.

A honk from outside interrupted my thoughts and made me sit up quickly. The taxi. It was time. I self-pityingly stood up, picked up my bags and suitcases, and with one last look at my bedroom, I began to head down the hall for the last time.

If I wasn't myself, I would have thought I was overexaggerating. But in reality, who knew when I would be back? Getting shipped off to God-knows-where isn't exactly a walk in the park. I walked out the door and helped the driver put my things in the back. As I walked around to open the car door, I realized I had forgotten something. I ran back inside the house and practically jumped up the stairs.

I walked into the master bedroom and looked around. I couldn't leave without something to remind me of....her. I went into the closet and found the box on the floor. I opened it up and decided on a scarf that I had seen her wear in almost all pictures. As I skipped down the stairs once again, I was stopped by my dad.

I sighed to myself. I didn't hate him. No matter how much I wanted to, I just couldn't. And although something deep down told me I would never be able to hate this man full of good intentions but imperfections, I wouldn't let him get away with anything he had-or hadn't-done.

"Er...um...goodbye, Rosaline. I hope you have a safe fl-"

"No, Dad. You are my dad, and you always will be. But look at us. We can't carry a conversation and we can barely look at each other. You don't get to play the caring father card. You let this happen. So yes, goodbye."

And with that, I walked out the door and, not even looking back once, silently got into the cab.

"JFK, please," I said quietly, to avoid the driver from hearing my voice suddenly crack. I pulled out the soft piece of cloth from my sweatshirt's front pocket. In a matter of seconds, a beautiful and nostalgic scent consumed me.

And, as we drove away, I watched my home, father and all, become nothing but a speck. Unsure of the future and letting reality sink in, I let my tears fall into my dead mother's scarf.