Chapter 1: Love Story

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Song: Love Story

By: Taylor Swift


I sit with my phone on my lap as I hold my head in my hands in exhaustion, staring at the depressing Facebook page in front of me. People are so stupid sometimes. I think as I watch the video again. My brother's face appears on screen with a wide smile and a beer can in hand. You can see the light in his eyes as a bubbly laugh passes through his lips. I shudder at the sight.

He takes another swig of the can before stepping back and walking over to a bike he has leaned up against a larger, mossy  boulder. I can hear his friends snickering in the background and I feel my heart clench tight in my chest. My brother, Paul, hops on the bike and starts riding towards a ramp aimed at the lake in the video.

I watch as they make the video go in slow motion with a tear streaming down my cheek and my heart beat pumping even faster. He flies through the air before landing in the water with a huge splash. I feel the intense beating in my chest abruptly stop as he disappears under water. The next time he's seen is not by the camera. The next time he's seen, he's being lifted from the water with wide, dead eyes, and a large gash on his temple. 

The news anchor in the video pops back up and I quickly shut off my phone and throw it across the room. I stare down at my shaking hands and let out a shuddering sigh. "That happened two years ago, get over it." My head snaps up at my dad's voice as he walks in the room, turning the blinding light on in the process. I wince at the sudden overload to my senses and blink rapidly to regain sight. 

Like you got over mom? I think sarcastically as his third wife Veronica walks in, flipping her bright red hair over her shoulder as she does. Her hair may say, young, but you can see the work she's had done. She purses her lips at my teary state before shaking her head.

"Darling, if you keep that sad look on your face you'll get frown lines." When you've lived with Veronica for more than two days you learn to ignore her when she walks through the door and tells your best friend that she's fat when she most certainly is the complete opposite. Of course, my dear friend, Chloe, simply replied, "At least I can get a guy without looking like a string bean with red hair dye."

To say the least, I got punished, and Chloe is no longer allowed at my house. That'll change once Veronica leaves though, it always does. I'm snapped out of my thoughts as my dad sits on the couch and Veronica comes around to sit in his lap, before commencing to make out with the most disgusting noises possible.

I feel my gag reflex kick in as I shut my eyes and run up the stairs to my room, internally screaming the whole way. First off, both of them are way past middle age. Secondly, I don't think there's a single person on earth who would want to see that. I throw myself on my creaking bed before burying my head under the pillow in an attempt to block out the image that just violated my mind.

Then I remember, my phone. Oh, my poor, poor, thrown phone. I think of the spot I had left it and pray Veronica doesn't find it. She's one of the nosier wives and has a tendency to go through my personal belongings. She also has a bit of a habit in taking about a hundred selfies and changing my password. 

She even tries to wear my clothes. Now, please remember, this woman is about twenty years older and a foot taller. It gets really uncomfortable watching her try to by cute in my gym shorts. I shudder at the thought as I pull my knees to my chest and look around my desolate room.

The walls are grey and everything has hard edges, as if the whole room is a weapon. It feels like it too, especially in the morning when I'm half asleep and I happen to stumble into the edge of my dresser. It's almost as bad as stepping on a Lego. Chloe used to laugh at me about that, until she did it too. Now we just have sympathy for one another.

I've been living in this house for about two years. My dad said he needed less reminders of my mom. This is due to the fact that not only did he divorce her, but after he divorced her she died of cancer. He was guilty for a while, but then he forgot about me and Paul and started being a player while drowning his worries in alcohol .

His forgetfulness and example is probably what drove Paul to drink. I feel tears push at my eyes when I think about this but I quickly push them back before flopping onto my back on the bed. I close my eyes and let sleep overtake me as thoughts swirl around my head, promising an interesting day tomorrow.

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I wake with a start as a loud noise crashes around me, causing me to roll off my twin sized bed and onto the cool wood floors. I groan before attempting to push myself up. Sadly, I lack upper body strength so this only succeeds in allowing me to feel the pain of hitting the wooden floor again.

I hear someone snicker and look up, only to see the one who had woken me up in such a manner in the first place. "Chloe! You almost gave me a heart attack, concussion, and other pain all at once!" I practically shout at her before remembering my dad and his "wife" are downstairs.

She smiles before jumping down from where she had perched herself on my window sill to reach down and help me up. "Oh, a new record." She says with a smile as I get back on my feet and rub my back with another pained groan.

"We've got to get to school, so hurry up and get ready." She orders in excitement and I stare at her suspiciously. "What are you so excited about?" I ask as I start walking towards my dresser to pull out some of my clothes and throw my school stuff on the bed.

She giggles before shaking her head and whispering, "It's a secret!" I laugh at her excitement before walking into my bathroom and getting ready for the day. This consists of showering, dressing (in T-shirt, sweatpants, sweatshirt), brushing my teeth, and pulling my hair into a ponytail.

I come back out and Chloe salutes me sarcastically before saying, "It's nice to finally be graced with your presence, I'll meet you outside!" I watch as she dives out the window dramatically and nearly laugh when I hear a small grunt of pain when she falls in the bush outside.

I stuff my things in my backpack before slinging it over my shoulder and walking downstairs. I smell the scent of delicious food coming from the kitchen and instantly know that something's wrong. I've never smelt something that good since my mom was alive.

I cautiously glance into the kitchen to see my Aunt Grace. I immediately run back into the living and grab my phone before walking outside. Whenever my aunt comes to visit it means that something bad has happened and that she's trying to lighten the blow with food.

It's a good try on her part, but she forgets that my mom used to do the same thing.








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