His Soccer Girl

Rough Day

I let out an annoyed huff and crossed my arms.

Dylan studied me for a second. "What's wrong?"

I was so frustrated, because deep down there was something bothering me. I was angry and upset, and I just wanted to punch something.

"I'm upset because-... I'm upset... Uggg! I thought that it was going be perfect! I thought that our wedding would be something that we planned together! But we can't, because he's off at college, and I'm still here where both of our mothers are cramming wedding ides down my throat! God damn it!" I yelled, throwing my hands in the hair.

Dylan waited for me to collect myself as I took a deep breath.

"I know all of this must be really frustrating you, but everything will work out in the end."

"How do you know?"

"Because I know my brother. I may not have seen him in a couple years, but I grew up with him. I know he loves you."

I ran a hand through my hair, still frustrated, but embarrassed to snap like that in front of him.

"Yep. So onto a different subject, what were you drawing when I pulled in?" I asked, eyeing his sketchbook. His calm and laid back expression quickly vanished. "Nothing really, just scribbles. I was bored waiting for you."

"Mhm." I said, snatching his sketchbook. Before he could take it away from me I opened it up and flipped to a random page. My breath was knocked out of me as I looked at the beautiful drawing on the single page. It looked like a girl with a pixie cut, smelling a rose. Her eyes were closed, and you could see how long her lashes were. Before I could say anything, Dylan snatched the sketchbook out of my hands.

"Dylan, that picture was amazing! You really have a gift!"

"Uh, thanks. I usually don't share my unfished stuff. I stand for nothing but perfection." He said, that cocky grin returning.

I rolled my eyes, "Sure."

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Dylan stayed for a good hour before he got a call from someone and had to leave. I didn't mind. I went and took my shower and got ready for bed. I collapsed on my bed, and pulled out my phone to call Bryce. The phone rang six times before it went to voicemail. I pulled my phone away from my ear and frowned. My chest ached because I missed him, but I wasn't going to call him until he answered.

I sent him a quick goodnight text, before placing my phone and rolling onto my side. I didn't want to sleep yet though. For over a month my dreams have been plagued with the same nightmares I used to have when my dad first passed. Sometimes a new nightmare crept its way into my subconscious, but they always involved my dad's death. I didn't want to sleep, but that didn't matter because I was exhausted and before I knew it I was being pulled into a deep sleep.

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I stood outside as the wind whipped my hair around my face. I watched as a helicopter lowered to the ground, making my hair whip my face even more, but I didn't care because my dad was finally coming home. After almost nine months of being gone he was finally home.

The helicopter touched down and my dad jumped out. He had his hat on and his ABU's. HE had his arms outstretched for a hug as he walked towards me. I giggled, happy to see him again. I ran towards him, even though I felt like the wind was pushing me back. Just as I was about to reach him, I heard a loud noise. It was like a loud bang that I heard over the roaring of wind, and spinning of the helicopter rotors.

Some liquid sprayed all over me, and it was warm and sticky. I stopped in my tracks, glancing my clothes and my hands. They were covered in a black liquid, or was it just dark red? When I looked back at my father, he had a blank look on his face, as he dropped to his knees, and then all the way down, as the dark black liquid started to pool around his unmoving body, and trailed all the way down to where I stood.

That's when I realized what the liquid was. It was blood.

~*~*~

I sat up in bed, and screamed, gripping my hair. Brit came rushing into my room, "Summer what's wrong?!" She said frantically, looking around my room.

I started crying uncontrollably, as my body convulsed. Brit quickly grabbed my trash can right before I threw up. I threw up until there was nothing left in my stomach, and all I could do was dry heave. I continued to cry, and Brit just held me, and tried to comfort me.

God, why do I have to be so messed up?

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Long time no post, eh? Sorry about that. I had a bunch of ideas for where I want to go with this book, but sometimes I have some difficulties with getting from point A to point B, and I tend to get writers block. But I hope you guys like this chapter.

Make sure to comment and vote. I love reading all the comments you guys put. (Just saying.) If I get any long, really awesome comments, I usually try to dedicate a chapter to that person. I've only done it a few times, but if I were to get a long comment that just stands out above the rest than I would love to dedicate a chapter to you.

Any who, have a wonderful day. Stay awesome

~Ry