Kate's Rock (Steve Rogers Love Story)

Chapter 2: Last Time Being Home

When I got into my "mothers" car it was completely silent. Not to mention there was extreme awkward tension. I looked out the window and just wanted to fall apart. I didn't want to move in with my "mother" and her boyfriend. I hated them both because not only have they never really spoken to me my whole life but they are both alcoholics. I couldn't help it but the second I finally let everything that was happening sink it I began to tear up. In fact I started balling my eyes out in the back seat. My "mother" turned to face me since she wasn't driving.

"Awww look at how happy you are to move in with us." ~Mother

I just stayed silent. Sometimes my mother loved to make remarks that just would get me so angry. She knew exactly why I was crying but she insisted on ruining my life. Luckily it didn't take long for us to get to my house. I loved this house. I have lived in it my whole life. I just don't want to leave everything behind. But I guess I don't really have a say.

I quickly ran outta the car and into the house. The first room I needed to go too was my fathers. I missed him so much. I just plopped onto his bed and began to cry.

"Why did you have to go?!" ~Kate

I couldn't control myself anymore I let everything out. I had too. After crying and screaming for thirty minutes I finally managed to get up. I just stood there staring at myself in the mirror. My makeup was running really bad so I started to fix it. Of course my eyes were red and I looked a mess but at this point I could care less. I began looking around. I remember running in here when I was younger whenever I had a nightmare. I would run and jump onto the bed and wake my dad up. He would nearly have a heart attack thinking that something terrible had happened. However when he found out it was a nightmare he would just hug me tightly and tell me "Sweetie I promise that I will never let anything happen to you. You're my little princess." Then I would pass out next to him. I also remember my first break up. I was around fifteen. I walked awkwardly into his room and held in all my emotions. He noticed that something was up so he stood up and hugged me and then he asked what was wrong. I lost it the second he said that. All my emotions flew out of me. My father was not only my father but he was my best friend. Nobody understood me like him. We would talk about everything. From sports to personal problems. I used to help him with his job sometimes when he would get overwhelmed with all the work.

As soon as I finished going down memory lane I saw a picture of my father holding me when I was around five. We were having a daddy daughter day. We sat down on a picnic blanket and a random stranger took a picture of us. The lady who took the picture told me that I was so pretty and that I had my fathers eyes. Sure normal kids would be like eww I don't wanna have my fathers eyes, but to me it was amazing. My father had been my hero and now I had something similar to him.

I grabbed it and put it in my pocket then I walked over to his closet. If I was leaving all my fathers belongings behind I needed to have one thing to remember him by. I grabbed his leather jacket he wore when he was younger. He loved that jacket even though he would never wear it out since he grew outta it. I put it on and looked in the mirror. Sure it might've been slightly big but to me it was perfect. It smelt like my father also which made me tear up a bit.

I left my fathers room soon after that and I went to my room. I packed all of my clothes and pictures and belongings into my suitcase. I put on the green stone necklace my father got me for my sixteenth birthday. Then I headed back outside to the car. Of course my mother was screaming about how I took "forever" just to pack "my stupid belongings" and how she was gonna be late for some party. Her boyfriend just sat there smoking away his fifth cigarette in a matter of an hour. I just ignored my "mother" and put my stuff in the back. Then we drove off to the place I would be living in now. I'm not going to call it "home" because in order for it to be home that would mean I like it there and that I feel safe and peaceful there which isn't the case at all. As we drove there I passed out to the sound of my "mother" and her boyfriend arguing about how she took me in. He clearly didn't want the responsibility of taking care of me. Well little does he know that I am planning on moving out as soon as possible.