Status: My first story. All the chapter titles are taken from songs. Please read and comment! Thanks so much! :)
Here I Am, Alive
You Better Be You, and Do What You Can Do
A lot of teenagers claim to hate their parents, but for a very long time, I was positive I hated mine.
Since I was about 12 years old, my parents were never around. My father worked nights, meaning he slept all day long to cope. I only saw him on Sundays, and on that day, all he had the energy to do was watch TV in our living room and snooze in his recliner. My mother worked crazy hours as a real estate agent. She was the third top sales agent in the state, and was constantly out with customers on a regular basis. When my parents WERE home, every conversation turned into a screaming match. Their jobs stressed them out to the point where all they could do was take their anger out on my two younger brothers and I, making my home life a living hell.
With my parents gone, the role of mother fell to me as the oldest child. My brother Andrew was 3 years younger than me, while JT was 6 years younger. They both relied on me to make dinner, help them with homework, and protect them from their nightmares. My mother expected me to keep the house in order as well, which meant keeping up with the laundry, vacuuming, and other household chores.
I was a modern day Cinderella with a twist; I also had a suicidal best friend to take care of.
I was so used to taking care of other people, that I was extremely unprepared when someone came into my life that wanted to take care of me.
The first time was quite simple.
"Do you want a soda?" Dave offered one day while we were hanging out at his house.
"Sure! I'll get it," I jumped up off the couch we were sitting on.
"Whoa whoa, babe," he laughed. "I can get it for you! I'm the one who offered after all!"
I slowly sat back down, almost confused. Nobody ever got anything for me.
"Oh...are you sure? Because I can-"
"It's really not a big deal at all," he grinned, as if he knew this simple favor was a rare occasion for me.
When he returned with our sodas, he handed me mine and said "Do you always get things for yourself in other people's houses?" He winked at me.
I elbowed him. "No! I just always get things for myself in general."
He raised an eyebrow. "Why is that?"
"Well, you know how my parents are," I took a sip of my soda. "I need to be independent. I AM independent, actually," I amended. "I don't need anybody to take care of me. I'm perfectly capable of taking care of myself." I didn't know whether I was trying to convince him or myself at this point. My private thoughts seemed to always come out when I spoke to him, even in the most casual conversations. I felt entirely too comfortable with him.
"That's too bad," he put down his soda and slid his arm around my waist. My heart fluttered at his gentle touch. "You're going to have to get used to me taking care of you."
"Not happening," I said sternly. "No. No no no no NO."
"Why?" he laughed a bit. "Wouldn't a break be a nice change for you?"
"No Dave, you don't understand," I shook my head. "It's just not fair, okay?" He kept moving closer to me, slowly but steadily. "You've already given me so much just by giving me yourself," I explained softly, his face only a few inches from mine at this point.
"I don't think YOU understand," his voice was so tender, adoration flowing from it. "I want to take care of you more than anything. I want you happy. I don't need you to do anything but be you, even though in my opinion, that's more than enough."
I couldn't even respond to that. My heart was beating too fast to process anything concrete. Dave could sense this, so he just smiled and kissed me lightly on the lips. When he pulled away, he grinned even larger. "You're beautiful." he kissed my cheek, and got up from the couch. "Want to go listen to some music? I got this new CD that I think you'll love!" Dave adored showing me music, and he got so passionate about it that I adored listening to him rant about his latest favorite song more than he was aware of.
"Of course, sweetie," I grinned, and he took my hand as he led me up the stairs.
Since I was about 12 years old, my parents were never around. My father worked nights, meaning he slept all day long to cope. I only saw him on Sundays, and on that day, all he had the energy to do was watch TV in our living room and snooze in his recliner. My mother worked crazy hours as a real estate agent. She was the third top sales agent in the state, and was constantly out with customers on a regular basis. When my parents WERE home, every conversation turned into a screaming match. Their jobs stressed them out to the point where all they could do was take their anger out on my two younger brothers and I, making my home life a living hell.
With my parents gone, the role of mother fell to me as the oldest child. My brother Andrew was 3 years younger than me, while JT was 6 years younger. They both relied on me to make dinner, help them with homework, and protect them from their nightmares. My mother expected me to keep the house in order as well, which meant keeping up with the laundry, vacuuming, and other household chores.
I was a modern day Cinderella with a twist; I also had a suicidal best friend to take care of.
I was so used to taking care of other people, that I was extremely unprepared when someone came into my life that wanted to take care of me.
The first time was quite simple.
"Do you want a soda?" Dave offered one day while we were hanging out at his house.
"Sure! I'll get it," I jumped up off the couch we were sitting on.
"Whoa whoa, babe," he laughed. "I can get it for you! I'm the one who offered after all!"
I slowly sat back down, almost confused. Nobody ever got anything for me.
"Oh...are you sure? Because I can-"
"It's really not a big deal at all," he grinned, as if he knew this simple favor was a rare occasion for me.
When he returned with our sodas, he handed me mine and said "Do you always get things for yourself in other people's houses?" He winked at me.
I elbowed him. "No! I just always get things for myself in general."
He raised an eyebrow. "Why is that?"
"Well, you know how my parents are," I took a sip of my soda. "I need to be independent. I AM independent, actually," I amended. "I don't need anybody to take care of me. I'm perfectly capable of taking care of myself." I didn't know whether I was trying to convince him or myself at this point. My private thoughts seemed to always come out when I spoke to him, even in the most casual conversations. I felt entirely too comfortable with him.
"That's too bad," he put down his soda and slid his arm around my waist. My heart fluttered at his gentle touch. "You're going to have to get used to me taking care of you."
"Not happening," I said sternly. "No. No no no no NO."
"Why?" he laughed a bit. "Wouldn't a break be a nice change for you?"
"No Dave, you don't understand," I shook my head. "It's just not fair, okay?" He kept moving closer to me, slowly but steadily. "You've already given me so much just by giving me yourself," I explained softly, his face only a few inches from mine at this point.
"I don't think YOU understand," his voice was so tender, adoration flowing from it. "I want to take care of you more than anything. I want you happy. I don't need you to do anything but be you, even though in my opinion, that's more than enough."
I couldn't even respond to that. My heart was beating too fast to process anything concrete. Dave could sense this, so he just smiled and kissed me lightly on the lips. When he pulled away, he grinned even larger. "You're beautiful." he kissed my cheek, and got up from the couch. "Want to go listen to some music? I got this new CD that I think you'll love!" Dave adored showing me music, and he got so passionate about it that I adored listening to him rant about his latest favorite song more than he was aware of.
"Of course, sweetie," I grinned, and he took my hand as he led me up the stairs.