Crying On A Saturday Night

I walked through the front door, dropping my bag by the entrance. I took off my shoes and made my way through the living room to the kitchen where my mother was sitting at the table, a cross look on her face. There was an envelope and an open letter in front of her.

"Sit Charlotte, we need to talk," she said. I sat down across from her. "This letter came from the school. You're failing al your classes. They said you've been skipping school, and doing illegal drugs on school property. I'm not even going to ask if these are true, because knowing you, I won't get a straightforward answer," she said monotonously. I did nothing but look at her.

"Punishing you by any other standards seems to be doing nothing, so I feel you've left me no choice. You're going to live with your father," she said, looking up at me.

I rolled my eyes. "Well that's brilliant.... Its not going to help any," I replied, crossing my arms and sitting back against the chair.

"Well it better, because its your only option before I send you off to juvy!"

"So, you're going to trust a guy who I've never met before, to take care of me?" I asked, seeming outraged.

"Yes. There's nothing you can do about it," she replied.

"Oh. When do I leave?" I asked.

"Tomorrow afternoon. He knows you'll be there, so he should be home," she said.

"Good, I'll go get packed, Meredith," I smiled sourly before going upstairs.

Truthfully, I didn't know if this situation was good at all...

"So..." my mother said as she faced me. We had unloaded all of my luggage onto the front lawn of my father's house. He wasn't home, much to my mother's dislike, but she took no hesitation in wanting to leave me there alone.

"So... what?" I asked, crossing my arms.

"So, I guess I won't be seeing you for a while..." she said quietly, stepping towards me. She went to hug me.

"Don't touch me..." I hissed, stepping back quickly. She sighed and backed away.

"This isn't going to be that bad, Charlotte..." she said.

"Whatever... Just go. I know you don't wanna be here when he shows up," I sneered.

She sighed. "Alright. Goodbye Charlotte," she said before getting back in the car and driving off.

I went and sat down on one of my trunks. Everything I owned was on this lawn. Two trunks full of clothes and valuables, and a couple other suitcases of my personal effects. My guitar case, and the tan kennel, containing my black cat Sunny; completely contradictory to his color.

It was getting later and later into the afternoon, and I was really starting to get bored. My father hadn't shown up yet, and I was wondering if he would at all. I got out my left-handed guitar, and started to play a tune.

Everyone said I looked just like my mother, but if they had to agree, the one thing I got from my father was his immense musical talent.

About an hour later I was still playing, going through random songs I'd learned, and the sun was due to go down soon. A car pulled up into the driveway, and a figure stepped out, while I could see a few in the car. Apparently, he was sent to make sure I wouldn't kill them or something. He got up and came over, and as the light hit his face, I realized who it was.

"Well well well, if it isn't Zachary Vengeance. So, your band mates think you're expendable?" I said smirking.

He looked at me strangely as he got closer. "Its Zacky, and who the fuck are you?" he asked.

"Well, I wouldn't expect you to know. But, if you must, you should go ask one of your friends. Brian, preferably," I said.

Zacky turned back to the car. "Brian! Is this some groupie or something!?" he yelled to the car. He got some sort of movement from the car. "Well then what the hell is her stuff doing out on the lawn!?" he shouted again.

In response, a car door opened, and the car emptied. They walked over and stood next to Zacky, peering down at me.

"Do any of you know her?" Zacky asked, turning to the other men. They shook their heads 'no', save for the man on the end in the fedora hat, who remained still and silent. I knew who he was, but the hat was hiding his face as it continued to get darker.

"Well fuck. She's hot; I'll take her home with me..." Zacky grinned.

I looked at him in disgust. "Ew. Pedophile much? What are you, 33?" I asked.

"What?" he asked. "How would that make me a pedophile?" he asked.

"Well, the age difference of course. And then, you know, rape. And the possible ass-kicking from Silent Bob there on the end," I said. I certainly seemed to enjoy being a smart-ass.

"Any why would he do that?" Zacky asked. All the other guys just looked on, watching the conversation in confusion.

"Zacky... Shut the fuck up. I'm standing right here if you didn't notice," the man in the fedora said. He stepped forward, getting a better look at me.

"Jesus Christ..." he whispered. "You look just like her..."

"Looks like who?" the tall lanky one asked with a slight lisp.

"Meredith..." Brian said slowly.

"Where the hell have you been?! I've been sitting out here for hours!" I said, standing up and putting my guitar down.

"Oh fuck... Damnit, I forgot what time she said you'd be here..." he said quietly.

The man with a raspy voice spoke up. "What the fuck is going on ?"

"Guys, there's something I never told you, back when we were in high school. This is Charlotte... my daughter."