Sorry, I thought it would be a nice little romance. I hope you love or at least like my story to keep reading. I jumped at the sound of him saying, "Im leaving you." I gasped at him. How could this be? How could he leave so quickly? He was only here for a month. "But-" I started but he cut me off. "No, I can't stay. I'm leaving tonight. My flight leaves at 5 in the morning." Tears began to fill my crystal blue eyes. "But daddy-" I began again. "No, buts. Butter cup." That was my nickname he gave me when I was three. "How long will you be gone?" "Only for 24, maybe 30 months." "30 months?!" He pulled me in for a hug, but I ignored him. "Butter cup, I'm not leaving here until you give me a hug." "Good," I smirked, "I want you to stay." He looked down at the grass, "I want a hug from my only child, my beautiful girl before I leave to Afghanistan." "Me too," I said, as a tear flew out of my watery eyes. I squeezed him, letting him know I loved him. What if this was the last time I saw my strong father? What if he got killed? Or if he got badly injured? "Daddy, if you don't make it back-" "No, Bell. I am coming back." "I know, but what if-" "No!" he let go and grabbed my shoulders tightly. He stared straight into my eyes. "I'm not leaving you here, with only your mother. I'm coming back, promise me you know that I will come back!" I stared at the grass in my front yard. It was evenly cut and bright green. Then, I stared at his bright red truck. I remember me and him going to the beach and drinking root beer under the stars. He would say, "How about when i close my eyes, you will count to ten. If you see a shooting star in that shortness of time, we will go get pizza. Your favorite kind, any kind you want." I would always lie and say I saw one so we could get pizza. We used to do that all the time, but then he joined the military. The last time we watched the stars in his pick up truck was when I was 10. I'm 17 now and we don't really do it that often. "I promise, daddy." I said into his light blue eyes that matched mine. He comfortably hugged me one last time. And then he drove off. I watched him until I couldn't see his car no more. I walked back into my red wooden, one story house and cried in my bedroom until it was two weeks after he left. I looked at pictures with him and me in them. My mom would sing me to sleep and brush my dirty blonde hair. That was only a month before I met you.... Oh, I hope you like it
Please read. I am warning you. Some of you might cry or at least had a couple tears when you read some of my chapters. But its ok, i like to know how you feel. So, comment about my writing please... I looked up at my old treehouse my father made for me. I can't, I can't do it. It's just to painful to look at the things me and my father put up there. Every time my father would leave, I would climb up that ladder and write about how lonely I felt. A tear fell out of my watery eyes. I didn't dare brush it away. This time was different. This time, it was his fourth time leaving me and my mother. And for some reason, I kept thinking it was going to be the last. 30 months is a long time. He could- no, not Isabella. I promised I wouldn't think that. I walked closer to the ladder, no. I can't do it. It's to.... painful. I squeezed my hands together tightly. Please, god. Bring him home safely. Me and my mom can be strong together. Please, help me. Help me calm down and believe he will come back for sure. I looked at my bracelet on my right arm. I pulled it off and read the beads with words on it. I read, "Daddy loves his little girl." that only made more tears fall out of my eyes. "Daddy," I said loudly, "be safe!" "Isabella!" my mom yelled at me from our house, "Dinner time." Then, I heard a noise from the bushes. "Hello?" I stared at the bushes that seemed to stop shaking. "Is someone there?" I said getting closer. I looked though the bushes and saw nothing. "Isabella!" mom yelled again," dinner!" I turned to face my house. "Coming," I tried to say calmly, but my voice cracked with sadness. I pulled my bracelet back on and whipped my years away quickly. "Good luck," I heard from the bushes. It was a child's voice. A little girls voice. I faced the bushes once more. "Shhh!" I heard from another person. This voice was much deeper, manly. "Thank you," I said calmly. Then, I walked back to my house. Knowing that who ever was in the bushes. Knew how I felt. Or so I thought, it made me a little happier to know I had a little admirer watching me. But my feelings for my father weren't going to change. Thats for sure. Sad? Shocking? Bad? Tell me in comments. I need to know how good/bad I am. So, don't be afraid to speak up
Hello, it's your writer here. I would say my weakest point is making details, so I am going to try to make more details. I hope you like it.... "Mom!" I screamed at her even though she was six feet away. I shoved our bills in front of her face. "How are we gonna pay for these if you don't have a job?!" She mumbled, "I don't know, Isabella." I looked at her in anger. "Mom, dads gone and your lazy! What am I going to do to get you to realize that?!" She looked down at the hard, solid kitchen floor. She took of her white apron and set it on the counter. She walked close to me with her brown, curly, unbrushed hair. Her hair was in a pony tail, but her bangs were all up in her face. Her light walking looked as if she was tired. She hadn't been sleeping, nor have I. She stood in front of me with her eyes staring at the bracelet, my father made me. She pulled up my hand for a closer look. She looked very pale compared to me. I was the tannest one in the family. "Bell, I need you to quit school next year." I pulled back my hand when she said that. "What? Mother, Im not quoting school! Your getting a job!" I screamed at her and ran out the house. How could she say to quit school? How could she be so lazy? And make me do more work than her? Am I the only adult at our house right now? By the time I even knew what I was doing, I was on my ladder about to climb up to my treehouse. "What?" I asked myself. I climbed back down to the solid green grass. I looked around. I walked up to that same bushes I saw first move. I looked in it more closely and saw a little girl. "Hello, there," I whispered. She didn't move, or say a word. I walked up closer to her to get a good look at her, but she turned her face. She was skinny, like me. She was maybe nine, or ten. She had beautiful, blond hair. It went down all the way to her lower back. And soft skin that seemed to be glowing in the sunlight. "Come on out," I said slowly. She shook her head no. "Well, if you can't come out, can I come in?" I asked. It was very dirty under there, but I wouldn't mind getting dirty just to talk to her. But she shook her head no again. I looked at her with cautious eyes. Then, I saw a humongous cut on her left arm. "I can heal that, if you'd like," I said slowly. Then, with a high pitch and sad voice, she said, "That would be nice." Oh, I keep thinking I am bad with details, sorry.