As Happy As I've Never Been...

~Chapter Twelve~

                “My father was an abusive alcoholic who thought of no one but himself and tried his hardest to screw over my future.” And there it is. That’s why I hate alcohol and everything related to getting drunk. The smell makes me nauseous because whenever I would smell it, I knew something bad was going to happen or that there was going to be yelling. Finally, my mother got a divorce when I was 12 and we were basically free from his tyranny, well, we were when we weren’t with him for visitation. It was only once a week, twice every other, but soon, it became only once, and by the time the divorce was finalized, and he didn’t have to play the caring father role, he stopped showing up. For me, this was a blessing, for my father was nothing other than half of my creation to me, but to my sister, who still loved him, it was a devastating blow to the heart. She would cry and I would have to sit there and comfort her as best as I could, simply because we have a horrible father, and it just cemented my hate for him even more. Regardless, I am here without him, and I don’t need another one to deal with. I remember something I heard once, and laugh a little to myself.

                “What?” Louis asks, very concerned.

               “You’ll probably think I’m crazy, but I heard once that girls chase after men like their fathers.” I say, smiling a little.

         “And you’re happy about that?” He asks, oh he probably thinks I’m having a mental breakdown.

                “No, but I always thought I would be an exception to that, how could I like someone like that when I’ve grown up with it? But no, apparently, I’m no exception.” I say, and look down at my hands as my sentence turns more depressing. That gets me another hug from Louis, and this time I actually hug him back.

                “Rachel, I believe in you, and I believe that you are going to be ok.” He says into my hair.

                “I know, I know.” I say, gripping him, glad that I’m not alone anymore.

                “Do you really have a class later?” He asks as he realizes me.

                “Yes.”

                “I’ll wait here, you go get ready and I’ll walk you.” He says, and gives me a small smile. Relieved in the change of subject, I simply nod and walk to my bedroom so I can grab an outfit before getting in the shower.

                Once out of the shower, I towel dry my hair and do all the nessicities, brushing my teeth and hair, putting on deodorant and makeup, etc. And I, finally, put on my outfit for class today:

http://www.polyvore.com/untitled_160/set?id=61756477

                Normally, I wouldn’t be wearing a skirt to an acting class, but this teacher is VERY gender specific, and he requires the girls to dress, “Gender appropriately.”  Whatever, it usually doesn’t bother me, but today I’m really not in the mood. I sit on the toilet and shove my shoes on before going back out to the living room and joining Louis.

                “A skirt?” He asks me, disbelievingly.

                “Long story.” I say as I pick up my backpack from behind the couch. “Ready?” I ask.

                “What time is your class?” He asks.         

                “2.”

                “You still have 45 minutes!”

                “We’re walking Louis, it’s going to take about 30 minutes.” I say and he sighs and gets up from the couch.