Bitch please Drunken Father? With a daughter HELL OF COURSE SHES DEAD or wastin her life or something OR it could have been one of those relations were the man is so devastated she left him that he started drinking and yea.....NOT TRY CRITICIZING...
Wow. This is so cool! It's almost like what my friend and I can do. We can travel to each others dreams sometimes if we fall asleep at the same time. It rarely happens. But it's really cool. And I'm not making this up.
New update, my loves. ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ Chapter 30 "Mom's dead?" I ask blankly. Ben grips my hand, glaring at my father. I can't process any of this. Mom is gone. I was going to find her before I started college. And all of my plans, shattered. This is how my life is? All I have know about my mother, a lie? "Is this some type of sick joke?! She just got kidnapped two weeks ago, she's finally getting over her condition, and this is what she gets?!" he asks angrily. "And you were a poor, drunken excuse for a father, and you still are! What makes you think she will trust you?!" I glance at him from the spot I have been concentrating on that is on the table. His face is red with anger. I've never seen him like this. "I need her to know the truth. All these years, she's thought that her mother has left us. But she died and had the same condition. She was in a car wreck. She passed out like you normally do," my father directs towards us. I can't look up from the desk I'm sitting at. This is genetic? This was passed down. That means that my children could have this stupid and terrible life I had. "Alana," Ben starts. I stand and walk out of the room and I don't stop until I get to the car. I curl up in the passenger seat. My mother's dead, this dream watching is genetic, and my father doesn't seem to understand. Ben is probably getting thrown in jail trying to rip my father apart for what he said. Why did this have to be my life? "Hey, you okay?" I hear. It can't be my father so it has to be Ben. "No," is all I say as I reply. I hear him get inside the car. "Alana, look at me," he says. I look up at him and he pulls me into a sitting position. He wraps his arms around me, making me feel worse. "I'm a freak. Then my children will be freaks. Then their children will be freaks. Then their children will-" I say, going on and on. This is the truth I am speaking. Or is it? Hell, my father could have been lying. But, I can't take any chances. "Alana, listen to me," he says, interrupting me. "You are not even close to a freak. You are the kindest, funniest, best and most beautiful girl there ever has been and ever will be. You don't need to think like this," Ben says, still holding me. "You're just being nice. But I can't have children. They will cursed with this," I sob into his chest. "We'll talk about this more later, alright. I think we should get home." I nod and pull myself back to my seat. He takes my hand and starts the car. We don't speak all the way back to my house. When we get there, I go straight to my bedroom and fall onto my bed. Ben follows me and pulls me into a hug. "Look, Alana, this doesn't matter. Things can happen. Like we could adopt children, instead of have them. Your father could be lying, and if we have children, they won't have this dream watching stuff," Ben says. I start to nod and then think. Did he say "we" on more than one occasion? "Wait, what?" I ask him, looking up at him. "Did you say 'we' twice? Like, as in, us, together, married." He blushes and nods. I feel myself blush too and I lay my head back on his chest. He opens his mouth to say something but shakes his head, thinking against it. He kisses the top of my head and rocks me, slowly and without a sound. So peaceful. But, suddenly, all I can think about is my mother. Where is she buried? "Ben," I start, breaking the silence, "can we go find my mother's grave?" He nods and stands with me. We walk to his car and get in. We search for her grave in the local cemetery. "What's her name?" he asks, keeping me close to him. He knows that I'm freaked out by cemeteries. "Angela Michelle Davis," I say, replying that name in my head once again. We walk over to a large tombstone that says, "Davis." A large stone angel looks down at the soil beneath it with her eyes closed and hands together in prayer. "I think we found her," he says. There are small letters above the last name. "Angela Michelle." "Mom," I whisper. I fall to my knees and read the description. "'Beloved mother and wife who loved to help those who dreamed,'" I read. How did my father afford this? This seems so expensive. And this was when I was four, I think. Four years old. We used to have money then. But, now, what happened to make us lose so much money? Was it Mom's grave? Or was it the drinks? Or was it something else? ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ Oh, my goodness gracious! What do you think about that?
Update time! ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ Chapter 31 We stop talking to my father, since we can't be sure on what the hell is the truth with him. And before we know it, graduation is tomorrow. I look at Ben's speech, looking for misspelled words, forgotten periods, commas, semi- colons, and so on. "Alana," Ben says. I glance up at him from his valedictorian speech. He finally made it past senior hood. "Yes, Ben?" I ask, watching his nervous eyes. Nervous? Why is he do nervous. "Never mind," he says, shaking his head. "I'll tell you tomorrow after graduation." I shrug, writing in a missed comma. "I swear," I start, "I don't know how on earth you got valedictorian. You have forgotten so many commas." "So? No one will notice." He's watching his hands clasp and unclasp each other. He seems nervous. Way too nervous. This bugs my concentration so I put down his speech an look up at him. "What?" he asks. I frown at him. Like he doesn't know. "You seem nervous. Why?" I ask. He is avoiding my eyes. "Benjamin Colman look at me right now." Now shit just got serious. He looks up at me, worry still in his eyes, but he smiles to try to fool me. "Yes, Alana?" he asks sweetly. "Don't 'Alana' me. And don't try to smile when I can see the you are nervous as hell." He looks at me like he doesn't know what I'm talking about. "I can tell by your eyes." "Okay, okay. You caught me. It's just that I have something to ask you and I'm really nervous about asking it since we've only been together for a few months." "We've been together for three months, known each other for sixteen, so, ask away. That or, let me continue on your speech," I say as kindly as I can. "I'll ask you tomorrow, okay?" he asks. I nod, working on his speech again. I glance at him, handing him his speech back to him. I stretch and check the time. Five after seven. I should get dinner ready, I think. I walk over to the kitchen and look in the fridge. Nothing but ice and water. Perfect, ice water for dinner. I swear, I must have my father's short term memory loss. I grab my phone and sigh. Delivery pizza should be nice. "Ben, pizza or Chinese?" I ask him from the kitchen. "Pizza," he replies. Soon after I call the local pizza parlor, I sit on the couch and flip through channels. One night when I don't have homework, nothing is on. "Anything good on?" Ben asks, pulling me into his lap. I shrug, not sure what's on anymore. He kisses my neck, causing my focus to turn to him. "What do you want, Mister Lovie Dovie?" I ask him. He his smiling at me like I know. And I probably do. "You," he grins. I roll my eyes, but I can't help but smile. One minute he was nervous, the next he is hungry. For me. He kisses me and I can't help but kiss him back. "How about we take this somewhere else?" he asks, glancing at my bedroom. I laughs and start to nod. Then there is a knock on the door. ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ Interrupted. Tsk, tsk, tsk.