Your Song

I sang along to the music as I drove down the basically empty freeway to Forks, since I had to drive through Forks to get to La Push. I slowed my speed when I knew I would get pulled over and lowered my radio, since it was still early and it would get me a ticket for disturbing the peace.

I drove passed Forks High School which was just beginning and got a lot of curious and envious stares from the students. I smirked slightly, secretly loving the attention I was getting with my new car.

I saw a small confrontation in front of the school, a ghostly pale man and girl were arguing with a dark tanned tall man. Huh, I shook my head and frowned, things never change. Oh well, hopefully they will soon.

I pulled out onto the small area dad had made our drive, which was just a patch of grass and mud. I stepped out of the car with car, I have a habit of falling and laughing when I do, I didn’t want anyone to know I was here until after I make him or her breakfast.

Luckily I have my key still, I opened the door and took of my shoes, leaving them on the porch and tiptoed to my room. I set my suitcases on the floor, since my bedsprings squeak, and I knew dad wouldn’t remember to fix.

I poked my head into Jake’s room and found his bed empty; I frowned slightly but shrugged it off. I was gone for five years; he must be sleeping over a friend’s house. I remember him being best friends with these two other kids but I can’t remember their names.

I opened my dad’s room, and was relieved to know nothings changed. There he was under the blanket mom had made for him asleep in the bed. That’s one thing I love about this place, it won’t change no matter what so I’ll always be coming home.

I closed his door and went into the kitchen, making as little noise as possible I began to make breakfast for my family. Well half of my family, seeing as my, one year older, sisters hardly ever make the trek to see dad. One still in college and one married and living in Hawaii with her husband, makes me angry that they make dad suffer through only letters and phone calls to talk to his daughters.

Part of the reason I came back home was to take care of my dad. I was always a daddy’s girl so this is nothing knew. I took on the roll of the mother after mom died, and dad had to all but force to accept grandma’s proposition of a full education in Paris. Of course I went, but I would always have grandma promise to send them some money and had the girls make sure to use it for food and clothes or anything else.

I smiled to myself slightly before I tied my hair into a ponytail and changed into a pair of sweats and a tank top as I managed to notice how messy the house is, looks no one has bothered to clean or pick up in ages. It’s a wonder how dad even has room to roll around the house in his wheelchair.

Shaking my head I put out the radio, and put it one a classical music station and hummed along to the melody as I slowly but surely began to clean up the house..