I snapped my laptop shut, refusing to read any further. I'd checked my emails about a fortnight ago and sorted everything out, and then today I come back to find millions more. Literally. Hate messages from my friends. Well, I guess now I can say ex-friends. I wasn't sure whether Craig had my email or not because there were none from him and I expected there to be. I didn't know what happened the other day when I fainted, but I do know that what me and Craig had was real, and what happened between him and Danielle was completely worthless. He doesn't love her. He loved me. He proved it to me. And I proved it to him. So why was he treating me like this? Because nothing made sense, that's why. I wasn't sure where my parents were taking me. I hadn't spoken to them in months, and now here they were, driving me off to somewhere in the complete opposite direction of home. The car was in complete silence. I hadn't really said anything to them but I think they assumed what happened. Boy troubles, etc. They didn't like me having boyfriends, and if I did have a boyfriend they'd want me to tell them. But the last relationship I was in was back when I was living with Mom and Dad, and I wasn't sure whether it concerned them this time. Well, no matter anymore, I guess. "So, what's up with you? Why were you in hospital?" Dad asked, trying to look at me in the mirror but too busy concentrating on the road. I just shrugged. "Come on Nicole, you don't expect us to believe you just randomly fainted, do you?" I shrugged again and wriggled down in my seat. I just wanted to go home. Apparentely I said this out loud because my Dad said "We are going home." I sat up and peered out the window. Nope, I was right. Complete opposite direction of my house.
"We're going home, home. Not your apartment. Back to our family house. Remember? We used to be a family." Mom sighed, rubbing the lines on her forehead. She hated car-rides as much as I did.
"But why?" I asked.
"You don't expect us to let you recover by yourself, do you?" Dad said and both he and Mom laughed.
"I won't recover by myself, I have Craig." I mumbled, curling into a ball.
"What was that?" Dad asked. I regretted saying it as soon as the words came out my mouth. It was a lie, a cold hard lie. Craig wasn't mine any more. He was Danielle's. "Honey, what did you say?"
I couldn't respond. The words that had just come out of my mouth had left a horrible taste on my tongue, and I felt really sick.
"I don't think she's feeling very well, dear." Mom said, fanning herself and mopping her brow. "Pull over. It would do both of us a favour." As soon as Dad stopped the car Mom rushed out into the bushes. I was pretty sure she was gonna puke. A cold wind hit my face and I almost fell over. I looked at Dad who had his head in his hands and I realised that whatever happened they would always be there for me. This annoyed me, seeing as they hadn't been here the past 3 months when a lot of things have happened. I broke my leg and they didn't even hear about it! 'Great parents you are,' I mumbled under my breath. And then I got the sick taste in my mouth again. It was almost as if every lie that came out of my mouth was turning my tongue black, like a sick twisted fairy-tale.
"Nicole?" Mom called, coming out from the bushes and wiping her mouth with the back of her sleeve. Gross. "Are you there?" I didn't want to respond. I was perfectly fine standing still where I was, like a statue until the pain had gone away.
"Don't worry, I can see her from here." Dad replied, folding up his newspaper and chucking it into the back seat. He was obviously used to me not being there. He must have realised what he had done as he tried reaching back for it but couldn't, so in the end he had to get out of the car and open the back door to grab the newspaper and put it in the glove-box. It was scary how long it took him, and then I realised how much my Dad had changed. He was 48, and his hair was already going grey, he was starting to wear Grandad Shirts and he really needed to shave. Mom was just the same, apart from the shirt part. She was obviously dying her hair blonde on a regular basis as you could see the dark brown of her roots and then the streaks of silver coming through. She'd clipped it up in a bun with a pink butterfly clip that matched the long flowing skirt she was wearing. There were stains on her white blouse and her white plimsolls were over-worn. I thought she was an image in my head but when I blinked I saw that she was watching me with a look of concern on her face.
"Honey? Are you okay?" Mom asked. She was obviously worried.
"Y-Yeah," I lied, trembling as I brushed my black hair across my face and combed it out with my fingers. "Should we go then?"
"If you're ready, yes. We live a little further away than we used to." Mom explained.
"Sure…" I said, though secretly I was screaming. They'd moved and they hadn't told me? More like I hadn't listened. I'm such a bad daughter. Mom opened the door to the back and I tried to climb in but she stopped me. "You sit in the front with your father. Might do you some good." I sighed and nodded but I didn't see what help it would do. I walked round to the front of the car and sit in. I knew I should talk but I didn't know what to say. All I wanted to do was sleep.
"We're going home, home. Not your apartment. Back to our family house. Remember? We used to be a family." Mom sighed, rubbing the lines on her forehead. She hated car-rides as much as I did.
"But why?" I asked.
"You don't expect us to let you recover by yourself, do you?" Dad said and both he and Mom laughed.
"I won't recover by myself, I have Craig." I mumbled, curling into a ball.
"What was that?" Dad asked. I regretted saying it as soon as the words came out my mouth. It was a lie, a cold hard lie. Craig wasn't mine any more. He was Danielle's. "Honey, what did you say?"
I couldn't respond. The words that had just come out of my mouth had left a horrible taste on my tongue, and I felt really sick.
"I don't think she's feeling very well, dear." Mom said, fanning herself and mopping her brow. "Pull over. It would do both of us a favour." As soon as Dad stopped the car Mom rushed out into the bushes. I was pretty sure she was gonna puke. A cold wind hit my face and I almost fell over. I looked at Dad who had his head in his hands and I realised that whatever happened they would always be there for me. This annoyed me, seeing as they hadn't been here the past 3 months when a lot of things have happened. I broke my leg and they didn't even hear about it! 'Great parents you are,' I mumbled under my breath. And then I got the sick taste in my mouth again. It was almost as if every lie that came out of my mouth was turning my tongue black, like a sick twisted fairy-tale.
"Nicole?" Mom called, coming out from the bushes and wiping her mouth with the back of her sleeve. Gross. "Are you there?" I didn't want to respond. I was perfectly fine standing still where I was, like a statue until the pain had gone away.
"Don't worry, I can see her from here." Dad replied, folding up his newspaper and chucking it into the back seat. He was obviously used to me not being there. He must have realised what he had done as he tried reaching back for it but couldn't, so in the end he had to get out of the car and open the back door to grab the newspaper and put it in the glove-box. It was scary how long it took him, and then I realised how much my Dad had changed. He was 48, and his hair was already going grey, he was starting to wear Grandad Shirts and he really needed to shave. Mom was just the same, apart from the shirt part. She was obviously dying her hair blonde on a regular basis as you could see the dark brown of her roots and then the streaks of silver coming through. She'd clipped it up in a bun with a pink butterfly clip that matched the long flowing skirt she was wearing. There were stains on her white blouse and her white plimsolls were over-worn. I thought she was an image in my head but when I blinked I saw that she was watching me with a look of concern on her face.
"Honey? Are you okay?" Mom asked. She was obviously worried.
"Y-Yeah," I lied, trembling as I brushed my black hair across my face and combed it out with my fingers. "Should we go then?"
"If you're ready, yes. We live a little further away than we used to." Mom explained.
"Sure…" I said, though secretly I was screaming. They'd moved and they hadn't told me? More like I hadn't listened. I'm such a bad daughter. Mom opened the door to the back and I tried to climb in but she stopped me. "You sit in the front with your father. Might do you some good." I sighed and nodded but I didn't see what help it would do. I walked round to the front of the car and sit in. I knew I should talk but I didn't know what to say. All I wanted to do was sleep.