Hi there, thanks for reading this :) I apologise for any grammar or spelling mistakes in it, English is my second language :) I hope to update soon, review would be greatly appreciated.

Love, Adéle xx

Serena

One of the most frustrating words in the human language, I've decided, is love. That word holds the weight of a thousand meanings. Used to describe attachments to peoples pets, clothes and favourite foods this word is also applied to the people you want to spend you're lives with. Humans crave the feeling, the need to find their 'other half' and its just that much worse for us savants because we can never be satisfied with just any human. There is one person, one person in the entire world who we can truly be happy with. Some never find that person. The love they want to feel for that person they have never met eats away at them like some monstrous disease. I wander if there is a cure some where out there.

I have not found him yet but I would say I'm alright as I am. I live with my family, Grace my sister, she just turned seven. And, if I'm honest, she might be the only person I'm certain I love every day with out question. Also theres my dad, Andrew and Amelia, Grace's mom. Things are okay now. Amelia's nice enough, if a bit annoying and dads-

Well he thinks I've forgiven him. I think I have too. Maybe. He's changed I'll admit, he comes to church with us on sundays, drives Grace to school every morning and practices chess with her most evenings. When I was her age he did no such things. He never played with me, never tucked me in at night. Every evening he left what we thought was work, till one day mom was in the shower and dad was working in the garage and the phone started ringing. I waited for someone to get it for three rings and no one came. So, I got up from the breakfast table and went to get the phone.

"Hello?" Asked a sugary voice on the other end.

"Hi." I said simply. I flipped the speaker button.

"Oh, Goodness!" The woman exclaimed, I raised an eyebrow. "You must be Serena, aren't you?"

"Ur, yes. Who are you?" I say meekly. Even through the phone she seemed intimidating; unnaturally confident and unnecessarily perky. Her loud, ringing laugh filled my ears.

"Oh I'm Amelia, sweetie. I'm your daddy's girl friend!" I'm amazed as to how happy she is while I stand here not knowing what to do and all the while my mothers off key singing fills the house.

"Rena?" I turn. Daddy is standing there in his oil-stained overalls. His hair is tangled like mine. He looked just as he always had, not perfect. Sure, sometimes he burnt my dinner because the football distracted him. Maybe once of twice he forgot to collect me from school. He was not perfect by any means but he was daddy. But he could scare away the big boys at the park so I could play. He rid my room of hiding monsters and danced me around the room to Elvis Presley records. He was my dad.

But even at age seven I knew that he shouldn't have a girl friend while he was married to mom. But he loved her. I could see in his mind Amelia, Amelia, Amelia. I saw that he loved her much more than mom. Even more than me. What did that mean? Why did it have to be true? What was he going to do?

I wish I never thought that last question because it wasn't long before daddy left with Amelia. She lived in America so now he was thousands of miles away from our little house in Ireland.

Mom was devastated. For weeks she moved about in a zombified state. She acted as if I was just an old piece of furniture- some thing to glance at occasionally but never really pay attention to. Then on my eighth birthday I woke up at 6:30 (something I always did on my birthday) and ran bare footed to moms bedroom. I tapped lightly on the door.

"Momma? Can I come in?" I knocked for another 5 minuets. Nothing. I bit my lip. With a chair, a stool and my football bag all piled together I managed to peak through the little window at the top of the door. She lay on her bed, so still, clutching something to her chest. I should have noticed something was wrong. Should of noticed she was just a bit paler than usual. Just a bit to still. On the other hand, she had been sleeping a lot those days and... I was only ten.

So I thought I wait to open my present. I went down stairs, made my cereal and sat cross legged by the TV. It was a Saturday and I had ballet later and harp practice. I waited but she didn't come down. At about eleven I got up to change. I hoped today would be special so I allowed myself to were the dress I saved for church: A floaty white summer dress with blue and pink flowers on the hems. I tied my black hair on a blue ribbon. The mail man should have come by now. I check and there are four letters addressed to mom and five for me! At the breakfast table I rip of the envelopers of four cards. I smile at the brightly coloured, girly cards in front of me. I appreciate the messages scrawled on them from aunts and uncles I haven't seen in the longest times but I am saving the card I really want to open till later. I'll open it with mom.

I was thinking about checking on mom when I heard a knock at the door. Daddy? Please be you, I think, please don't let me spend my birthday all on my own. I run to the door and pull it open.

"Oh." I say. Its Mrs. Alderson, our neighbour. She had a kind face that was aged with wrinkles.

"Hello, Serena." She says happily, "Is your mummy home?" I step back so she can come in and close the door.

"She's sleeping." Mrs. Alderson looked appalled.

"At this hour? Perhaps I should check on her." I stop her at the bottom of the stairs,

"No, please Mrs. Alderson- I don't think she wants any one to see her. The doors locked." Mrs. Alderson frowns. She tells me to watch some TV while she gets Mr. Alderson to help wake mummy up. I'm not bothered to argue so I do as I'm told.

The police woman tells me to sit down at the table and gets me some water. Mrs. Alderson is crying softly in the corner of the room looking at me while Mr. Alderson talks with another police officer, this ones a man with thinning grey hair.

"Can I talk to mom now? Is she awake yet?" Mrs. Alderson sobs and scurries out of the room. Why is every one so upset today?

The woman crouches beside me, "Serena, I have something to tell you about your mummy."

"She must have been very tiered." I muse. The woman shakes her head,

"Serena your mother is-" I hold my breath as she swallows, "Is dead." I suck in a harsh breath.

"Dead." I repete. She nods, blinking away tears. What have you got to cry for? I pull my chair away from the table and grab the card. I rip it open angrily. The people in the room don't matter. I is just me and his words. Scrawled on the card in his messy print is: Dear Rena,

Happy Birthday sweet heart!

We'll see you very soon, we have a surprise for you! Say hello to your mummy.

Love daddy, XO

Amelia has signed it to, in pink gel pen but I don't read her message. 'Say hello to mummy.' I wish I could.