This story is what I'm working on more so than any others. I will start to upload more often now that Winter break is fast approaching. I have more time to write and less school work!
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Rue Cartwell
“You can’t do this!” I screamed. “You can’t choose who your daughter marries without warning her. I am only 17! I want to go to college, and get a job. You only want me to marry and have children. Then, while my husband becomes the next pastor, I’ll be stuck here raising god only knows how many children. I won’t allow you to treat me as an animal only worthy for breeding.”
By the time I had finished my shouting match; my father was already down on his knees praying and asking god to forgive my misconceptions. While his eyes were closed, I snuck away to my room where I proceeded to get dressed in dark-wash jeans, converse, and a shimmery tank top. I curled my hair as quickly as I could, and made my eyes look smoky with eye shadow and mascara. After deciding I was all dressed, I crept back down the stairs. My mom was in the kitchen (as usual) making some dish for some church gathering. I had forgotten which, and there were so many that it was hard to keep track to begin with. My younger brother Dylan was sleeping over at a friend’s house. Josie and Hudson should already be asleep so I didn’t bother checking in on them or even worrying. As I passed the opening to the living room, I could see my father still praying for my immortal soul, or whatever. Sometimes I think I was adopted.
Anyway, I had decided that this was the last straw. I have tried for years to be the perfect daughter, but it was never enough. I got straight A's, I didn’t drink or smoke, I didn’t have a boyfriend, and I didn’t associate with those not from our church. I was his version of perfect, but he just couldn’t understand me. That sounds pretty whiny, but it was true. He was forcing me to repress my true self. I was officially done with the good girl routine. From now on I would behave how I wanted whenever I saw fit.
Having reached the door, I opened it as quietly as possible and slipped out into the night. I made my way down the sidewalk and passed the houses on my block. I was going to a party. Sure it was irresponsible, but living outside Las Vegas warranted for a little irresponsibility.
The party I was going to was hosted my Maxwell Gates. From what I’d heard his parties were always the best due to how much money his family possessed. Needless to say, at 19 Maxwell was quite the catch. The only way I knew of him was because his cousin was a junior and in my class. Nathanial Gates was something else. He was really athletic and known for being a tad bit crazy. I had always been interested in him. When we were both freshmen I had gotten lost and was being harassed by a bunch of seniors. They thought it would be funny to confuse the pastor’s daughter. I remember cowering into the corner in a deserted hallway. They had advanced on me until they were in touching distance. When the leader of the group placed his hand on my cheek, someone had shouted ‘hey’ from the other end of the hallway. We had all turned to see Nathanial Gates in all his freshman glory. The seniors didn’t want to deal with the repercussions that came with crossing the Gates family, to they backed off with scowls and glares.
I can still recall the look on his face when he asked if they had done anything to me. He was like my guardian angel. For that entire year he looked out for me and we became school buddies. We couldn’t let my father find out about our friendship, so we kept it strictly in school. We still had nicknames for each other and acted like we had been friends for years. Everything was going great until Nathanial was introduced to sports. From that point on he was always at practice or hanging with the jocks. We began to drift apart. To make matters worse, my father told the school not to place me in any classes with any of the Gates children. I haven’t talked with Nathanial since.