Dealing with the death of my father
has been the hardest thing I have ever gone through. They told me it was a
drunk driver who hit him. No matter who it was, it doesn't matter to me anymore, because my
father, Michael Boicourt, is dead now. He's never coming back.
And then, my mother packed up all
our things, and moved us out to this hut in the middle of nowhere. Well,
actually, a little town in Oregon called Estacada. But after coming from San Francisco,
California, this was a speck of dust. We
bought a two story house complete with moldy walls, and peeling paint.
We took a plane from San Francesco
to Portland. We got a car, and started driving south. On the drive to Estacada,
Davey, who is 10, became immersed in his handheld videogame, while Abbey, 5,
fell asleep. It was just me and my mom. Sort of.
I turned on my MP3 player loud
enough to drown out the engine of the car, but not loud enough to have my mom
yell at me. That's all my mom had been doing lately. Yelling. Or crying. Or
I stared out the window, and
watched the landscapes rush by, not really seeing it. I was immersed in Breaking Benjamin, and then Skillet, then
Three Days Grace.
I jumped when I felt my mother's
hand on my shoulder.
"Oh, mom. Uh, hi,"I stammered.
"everything alright, Kay?" she
said, stroking my tangled brown hair.
I thought for a minute. I was fine.No, i wasn't.It was a jigsaw puzzle of questions and contradictions in my mind.I sighed. My mom glanced at me with worried eyes. I looked at her and realized
she looked older than her age of 34.. she was thinner, and her red hair was
streaked with grey. Ilooked at her. She
didn't need anything else to worry about.
"yeah, i guess."
She smiled as relief flooded her face, and i was glad im a good liar.
"hey mom, um can i ask you something?"
"sure honey, anything."
I thought about what i wanted to say, but i realised the words wouldnt fit in my mouth.
"i--i forgot."i stammered
We didn't talk until we drove up a long gravel driveway.
Mom broke the scilence.
"here we are kids, the new home."
yeah. i thought. Starting over now. Its harder than it sounds.
like it? VOTE AND COMMENT!!
YOU ARE READING
after her father dies, 14 year old Kay struggles the hardest. so, she starts sneaking out to the woods to cut herself. as the blood flows, she begins to see a boy emerging from the mist, who appears with each cut. a relationship grows, until one day...