*Then*
I had just graduated high school.
The wind that was blowing felt cool on my skin. My hair ruffled in the breeze.
My graduation gown clung to my skin with a layer of sweat.
I mopped my forehead with my over sized sleeve.
When I looked out into the crowd, I saw my parents sitting in the folding chairs that were all on the lawn.
They had big smiles on their faces and my sister was seated next to them.
Her expression mirrored my parents'.
Further down in line, stood my girlfriend Sam Manson.
Behind me stood my best friend Tucker Foley.,
He tapped on my shoulder and leaned close to me, his breath hot on my neck.
"Can you believe we finally made it here? Graduation day." He whispered.
I smiled.
"Yeah, I can." I whispered back.
I got chills down my spine, when I heard our principal call out, "Presenting this years graduating class!"
*Now*
I look at my arms. At the many scars that litter across them. They're scary and ugly.
I run my fingers across them. 'I did this', I think to myself.
"Dinner's ready!" My mother calls.
I lean my head against my headboard, squeezing my eyes closed against the memories of graduation day.
"Danny, supper's ready!" She calls again.
I hear my fathers voice downstairs.
After another look at my scars, I roll my sleeves down.
I stand up from my bed and look around my room.
Gone are the posters of bands or musical artists I was once into.
Gone are the childish things I used to hold on to. There is no chance for me to remember what used to be.
My walls are bare.
Except for one photo...of my ex-girlfriend, Sam Manson.
It was a photo of the two of us on graduation day. I was holding her, piggy-back style.
We both had the biggest smiles on our faces.
And why shouldn't we have? We were in love.
We were young. Innocent. Naive.
On the back, written in her beautiful scripty handwriting were three words.
I miss you...
It was in my mail box six weeks after graduation.
"Danny, your foods getting cold! Get down here now!" My father yells.
I tear my gaze away from the photo and trudge downstairs for dinner.
Let the family drama begin.
*Then*
The flash of the camera went off, blinding both Sam and I.
She giggled and kissed the back of my neck.
I grinned and let her back down onto the ground.
"I love you." She whispered against my neck, my back still facing her.
In an instant, I whirled around to face her.
I scooped her up in my arms and held her above me.
"I love you more Samantha Jane Manson."
She grinned a huge grin, her tongue running across her teeth.
My superhuman strength had doubled since I'd fought Freakshow during that cross country trip three summers ago.
"If you love me...kiss me." She whispered.
I lowered her until her lips were inches from mine.
"I will spend the rest of my life proving to you that I love you."
Her eyes sparkled.
The breeze blew through her hair, gently swaying it.
Her lips gently touched mine and I wrapped my arms around her waist, slowly lowering her back down to earth.
She wrapped her arms around my neck, pulling me closer to her.
"I love you." She gasped when we pulled away for air.
"Sam, I promise you baby, I will love you until the end of time." I replied, kissing her collarbone.
"Uh, why don't you guys get a room?" Tucker cackled from behind us.
I turned around, giving him a glare.
His arm was wrapped around Star's skinny waist.
His eyebrows went up on his forehead.
I laughed. "Tuck, I'll see you later."
He wiggled his eyebrows, then gave a shrug.
Nonchalantly, he turned to Star. "Would you like some champagne? I am eighteen after all..."
I wasn't about to correct Tucker on the legal drinking age.
He was a big boy. And besides...if he left right now, it meant more time with Sam before the ceremony started.
I turned back toward the gorgeous black haired girl in my arms.
*Now*
I step into the dining room, my eyes on the floor.
My father makes a noise of disgust and I look up to glare at him.
"Could you at least take that thing out while you're eating?" He asks, clearly annoyed with me already.
As if he has any right to be.
Slowly, I move my fingers up to my lip ring.
He watches me fiddle with it, then drop my hand back down.
"No." I reply flatly, my voice a crisp monotone. Void of all emotion.
He rolls his eyes and turns his attention back to his plate.
I sit down in a chair farthest away from my parents.
After Jazz left for college two years ago, dinner with my parents had been a bit awkward.
But now it's pure Hell.
I look down at my food and make a noise of disgust.
My mother looks over at me. "Is something wrong?"
"I'm a vegetarian, remember?" I snap, pointing to the lump of meatloaf on my plate.
"Meats good for you." My father interrupts.
I glare at him. "I don't believe I was talking you."
Without waiting for him to respond, I look back at my mom.
She darts her nervous eyes between us.
I jab my index finger at the meat. "I can't eat that."
"It won't kill you." My father interjects.
"Shut the hell up!" I yell, slamming my fists down onto the table.
My fathers face turns a blotchy red color.
I stand and shove my chair back.
"Where are you going?" My mother asks.
I stalk out of the room without another word and step outside into the chilly December air.
As I start walking, I dig my crumpled pack of Marlboro's out of my pocket.
I light one up and take a long drag from it.
My fathers red face dances in my vision.
I take another drag, wishing it would go away.
Sooner than I expected, I reach my intended place.
Amity Park Spirits.
The only bar in town that doesn't know my ID is fake.
I push open the door, loving the scent.