Sketchbook

Chapter 5

It blows my mind what all can happen in such little time. In less than a week, I find out I'm pregnant, my unplanned sex tape was revealed to the whole school, I get into a fight twice, get sent to the doctors twice, Father almost attacking Charles, and now I'm staying home the rest of the week. There was only one more day of school for the week anyway, so I didn't think I would miss much, and I honestly didn't care. I'm pregnant now, and that's my excuse for staying home and resting. I stayed up in my room all day. The only time I got up was to use the bathroom. Father stayed home from work to take care of me, and it's probably because he doesn't trust me anymore. I know for a fact that I'm going to have to earn my parents trust again. I fucked up bad, so I understand their disappointment and anger towards me. Father would come check up on me every once in a while, and he brought me cooked food when I was getting hungry. He didn't really mind being my personal slave for a day, and he seemed in a good mood as well which was quite strange to me.
     At one point, I checked the time and it was 10:04am. Chemistry class was going on right now. I had no idea if Charles was in class or not, but I just felt like so much was going on in that class that involved me. I felt like everyone was more than likely talking about me in the most insulting ways. My rage started building up, and I noticed almost immediately. I slowly took a deep breath and decided to do something to distract myself from the thought. My eyes wandered around the room to find something interesting, but I saw nothing, that is, until I spotted something on the corner of my dresser. It was the sketchbook my grandmother gave me for my birthday last year. I almost completely forgot I had it. I had begged and begged for a sketchbook. However, that sketchbook remained on my dresser since the day I got it. The reason why is because the day after my birthday, when my grandmother was on her way back to Fort Collins where she lived, she got into a terrible accident with a semi. The news report said her vehicle was crushed, and no one survived. When I found out my grandmother passed, I refused to even think about that sketchbook. Now that I look at it again, I regret even asking for it. I got up from my bed and went downstairs. Tears were coming to my eyes, but I'm sick and tired of crying at this point, so I decide to occupy myself in the living room. There's a large bookcase on the wall next to the hallway entrance. I decide to search for a book. I wanted something to really clear my mind; nothing romantic and nothing about death. Jesus Christ, anything but that. I came across a book about extraterrestrials. It was about a man who does experiments on aliens because he's trying to prove to everyone that they are real, for he'd seen one when he was a little boy. It's a science fiction, and I thought it would be perfect. I sat on the couch and started reading page after page, chapter after chapter. The book did a fantastic job at taking my mind off of reality. I seemed to be too engaged in the book and started yelling out of frustration when something didn't go the way I hoped it would. Father peeped his head from the hallway making sure I was okay, but I ignored him. I didn't want any distractions. The book was so fascinating. I ended up reaching chapter 22 out of what seemed to be about 40 chapters. I'm not much of a reader, but when I find a really good book, I'm captivated. I looked at the clock to see that it was already 3 o'clock. I went upstairs to check my phone to make sure no one tried to call or text me. Surprisingly, I had no messages or missed calls. I waited a few minutes waiting to see if Charles would call or text, but nothing happens. I decided to call him, but his phone went straight to voicemail. I assumed his phone may have been dead, so I brushed it off and went on with my day. I was about to wander into the kitchen to snack on something until Mother walked through the front door with groceries. I got overly excited and snatched away the bags to see what she got. She then yelled at me to put the bags down and help put the groceries away. My good mood instantly vanished. I set them down and did as I was told, but I was looking through the bags anyway to see if she got any snacks. She caught me snooping and told me to put them away, so I did. I asked her what was for dinner, and she told me not to worry about it. I don't know what was up with Mother's attitude, but it was really pissing me off. I decided to leave the kitchen and go back to my room. When I opened the door to my room, my eyes laid on the first thing I saw which was the sketchbook. I walked towards it and picked it up looking at how brand new it looked and felt. I ran through the empty pages while glancing at the pencils that were sitting next to it. That's when a memory popped into my head.
     The day my grandmother gave me this, she told me something I'll always remember. "A new creation comes from ones own imagination, something only oneself can see. Your imagination cannot be born until you bring it to life." Those words were echoing in the back of my mind. I shed a tear realizing how much I miss that woman. I decided I wanted to use it, but I had no idea what I wanted to draw. Every idea in my head had no meaning behind it. I felt it was unnecessary to draw something for no reason.
I put the sketchbook back down and go to my bed laying there while checking my phone. I still had no messages from Charles. I tried calling, but once again, it went straight to voicemail. I decided to leave him a message asking if everything was okay, but it wouldn't send. I ended up becoming seriously worried. I ran downstairs to ask Mother if there could be any reason why he won't answer and why my messages won't send. However, when I got down there, I remembered Mother was in a bad mood, so I left her alone. I decided to ask Father even though I knew that he doesn't really like him yet. He was in the kitchen helping Mother put the rest of the groceries away.
     I walk up to him asking, "Father, I have a question."
     Without turning around he says, "What is it, sweetheart."
     "If someone isn't answering your calls, and your messages aren't going through, is that something you should worry about."
"Honey, are you talking about that Charles boy or whatever his name is?" He sounded more annoyed with his tone.
"Yea, he won't answer my calls or texts."
"Well, honey, he's probably really busy. You know, you can't just assume something's wrong just because someone isn't contacting you right away. I think you should just let him be, and help us put the last bit of these groceries away."
I sighed knowing he was right. I paused and thought for a second, even though I'm not sure what I was thinking of, and obeyed his words and helped put the groceries away.