To Write Love on His Arms

Growing up, I could have everything and anything I wanted in life. Anything at all, anything my parents could buy with money, but there was one rule I had to follow if they got that object for me. I had to some how repay them, whether it be doing chores around the house or now a days, helping my dad with his jobs.

After I graduated high school my parents understood how much I hated society because of the way I was treated in public. They realized I was the quiet person who was independent and could deal with not having contact with others. Thus leading them to let me live in this house out in the country side. This house that we use to use as a vacation house but is now mine to live in.

It's not a bad house really, it's good enough for me at least. An asphalt road leads from the fores nearby to my cement drive way that leads into a garage. The garage is five feet away from the actual house itself. The house has some steps that leads to a patio with the roof hanging over and beams keeping it from crashing down. The house is painted white but the trimming, like the beams in the patio are a dark green, as well as the front door. Once you enter through the door I've set a basket to place shoes in and a coat hanger.

Then there's a step and your in the hallway, to your right is the living room, but once you step into there the dining room is to the right, from there is an island dividing the dining room and kitchen.

Back in the hallway, if you walk down past the huge door way leading to the living room, is a door that leads to my room. A couple steps down is a hall closet, next to it is a bathroom. Then at the very end of the hallway are two doors, one leads to Atticus' room and the other leads into a spare room.

I've barely used the spare room though so its pretty much empty.

Anyway, back to the whole having to repay my parents things. My father had called telling me he'd need my help at his work for a week or two. He builds houses and such and his employees could really use an extra set of hands so he told them I'd be able to help.

I don't mind helping him, it's just Atty I'm really worried about. According to the letter Dr. Chase had given me, Atticus suffers from Isolaphobia. In other words, he's afraid of being alone. And since I seen myself how bad his panic attacks can get, there's no way in hell I'll let him be alone. I don't want to let that boy out my site.