Light in the Dark

Chapter 1

Chapter 1

Bella's POV

"Hi, Charlie!" I smiled broadly as Charlie approached me.

Charlie grumbled as he took the suitcase from me. I chuckled and walked behind him, following him to the car.
My dad is as awkward as me. If not, more. And one of the things he absolutely dislikes is being called by his first name by his own daughter. It makes him feel old, he says. And sometimes, just to provoke him, I call him Charlie. Not that it triggers much, I just get growled at. And I think the fact that he doesn't really react, is what makes it so funny.

When we approached the car, his police car actually, we put my suitcase and my duffle bag in the back seat.
I watched him as he set everything right, so it wouldn't cause trouble while driving, and I realized I've actually missed him. I missed him very much.
Because of my parents divorce when I was at the age of seven, I only saw him on Christmas breaks, and sometimes, if we were lucky, on summer breaks. Not that my mother didn't want me to see him, no, they separated on good terms. But it's just that we just had enough money to celebrate Christmas with him. And whenever we had money left, which was a rare occasion, we spent it on the plane to Washington. But honestly that wasn't enough for me, I love my father and I wished I could've see him more than I did. And what made it even worse is that the past few years have been very hard for us, and we couldn't afford to visit my dad. So I haven't seen him for the past four years.

And as my heart filled with longing, I did something I haven't done in a while. I gave him a hug.
I held on him so tight and he awkwardly put his arms around me and patted me on the back.

"I missed you..." I mumbled into his jacket.

"I missed you, too, kiddo." He replies as I let go of him.

I turned to the car and got into the passenger seat. As I watched Charlie walk around the vehicle to get behind the wheel, I remembered the first day he tried to teach me how to drive. I quietly snickered as I recalled what an absolute disaster it was.

Trying to keep my laughter in at the memory, I went into my handbag and fished out my Ipod and earphones. I put one ear in and put my newest obsession on replay.

As 'We Don't Have To Dance' by Andy Black started playing, I tuned out everything and closed my eyes, letting my fantasies cloud my vision.

"Your hair is longer.. And it's blonde," I heard, pulling me out of my daydreams.

"I, uh, yeah, I dyed it a couple weeks ago. I had it cut short the last time you saw me. And it's been four years."

And it was quiet once again. My dad always tries to make a conversation, what he doesn't realise is, I'm not my mom. I'm as reserved as he is. He doesn't have to push his boundaries and make himself uncomfortable.
But it's admirable. And it makes me love him even more: the fact that he tries his best to make me feel wanted warms my heart.

I can't say the same about my mother. Don't get me wrong, I love my mother and she is a nice woman. But she was never meant to be a mom.
She has never let go of her wild side. She went out everyday as if she didn't have the responsibility of raising a child.
She went out with different men, not really committing herself to one, making me miss my dad even more.
The consequences of of these actions were that at a young age I had to learn how to cook and clean, how to pay the bills and how to take care of drunk people, all by myself. You may even say I had no real childhood.
And that's why I had felt unwanted by my mother for years.

Until she married Phil, the baseball player. He took care of us, especially my mother, and it made my mother realise how much she had neglected me. It restored the bond between us, the bond that had slowly vanished.
It's why I was never bothered by Phil's presence, like the way I was bothered with the other men, he was good and kind. And most importantly, he made us feel like a family. He treated me as if I was his own.
And that's why I felt obliged to leave, my mom needed to strengthen her relationship with him. He was good for her.