Second Heartbeat

Prologue :

My name is Amber. Amber Johansson. I’m 18 years old, and to tell you the truth, I’m really bored of my life.
I know that there are some people who got a totally shitty life, and that I may have no right to complain, but really, I can’t stand it anymore.
Well, to start with, I live with my father and my 11 years old brother in a small town in Canada. I’m in my last year of Senior High School, and I wish this year will end quickly.
My dream is to work as a tattoo artist. I would like to get a tattoo, but my father is against that idea. Something about cancer, he said.
In fact, the origin of my troubles is my father. I mean, yeah, he makes sure we have food, a place to live, etc… But that man has a piece of ice instead of a heart. He’s incapable to love someone. All he knows is to yell for stupid little things, and to criticize people. Well, to criticize me, for the most part. According to him, I’m just a stupid little girl with no brain. He always finds something bad in what I do or what I think? He thinks that I’m incapable to do something correctly. My brother shares this opinion, even if he’s still quite young. I learned to take care of him, after my mother’s death. But we never get along well. My father always defends him, and I can understand that since he’s younger than me. But all I want is some affection. The idea that I have of parents is people who are supportive with you, who cheer you up when you’re down.
My mother died seven years ago. Cancer. I loved her, with all my heart. She was the one able to bring a smile to my face when I was down, or when I had an argument with a friend, in Primary school. But God decided to take her back; leaving me with someone I had to call a father, but who didn’t stick at all to this definition.
Maybe you could think that I’m selfish, that I have no right to be disappointed of what I had. Maybe that’s my personality who has got a problem, I don’t know. But I’m really bored. I don’t want to hear my father’s critics every day. I’m bored to hide in the bathroom to cry. I’m bored to be afraid of going back home. I’m bored of him slapping me every time I did something he considers as badly done or something.
I really wish that, one day, I would wake up in a loving family, with another life. A life where I could smile more often, and where I could mean something to my family…
It was dreaming, of course. But I started to make this dream come true in my stories. Writing was an escape, just like music was. An escape where I could describe the life I always wanted.

Amber was far to imagine that her wish would come almost true…