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….….

JON

His heart was pounding out of his chest as he watched his sister slam her bedroom door. Tears were dripping down his face. Carrie never seemed to give him a chance; she would never try to hear him out. Listening to him was out of the question. It didn't matter how he felt. To Jon everything was all about Carrie, and to an extent he knew he was right. Everything was about Carrie; all he did was worry about her constantly, wanting to spend time with her, wanting to be friends even though he is suppose to be the adult in control. He tried so hard to convince himself that her anger would soon fade and they'd be friends like brothers and sisters should be, at least that's what he thought. Jon was as overprotective as he could get. Of course he wanted Carrie to have her freedom and she only did when he left for tour though. As soon as he arrived home he had to know where she was at all times, who she was with, and what she was doing. Time was a factor; she had to be home at 10 on the dot. Time with her was what he had wanted; he figured that if he was overprotective that her anger would subside, that maybe she would see that he really did love her. Carrie's anger was what drove him to insanity, and over protectiveness.

It killed him inside every time he heard the word hate come out of her mouth. Hate was an awful word; Jon never used it, simply because it would kill him inside if he ever did. Her words would haunt him at night while trying to sleep, even during the day he thought about them, the word hate never left his head as it was drilled into his head for five years now and coming from Carrie, the only family he really had left. Sure, the band was his family, but not like Carrie. Carrie was Jon's sister, he loved her and he did everything to show her that. Realization that she was an expert at ignoring him was not a problem, he didn't give up, and he couldn't she was his responsibility and he was going to do his best to make her the best she can be.

With tears rolling down his face he kicked the front door with a loud scream like a tyrant. Insanity drove him nuts, hate drove him nuts.

"Why God, why are allowing this to happen? WHY?" He screams while kicking the door once more.

The tears streaming down his face were creating a river.

"I can't do this anymore!"

Pain was too much; the only way to deal with it was music, it was all he had to hold on to besides God which he wasn't so sure of anymore. So there he was alone on the downstairs floor creating lyrics in his head, thinking about giving up on everything. Maybe it was the right thing to give up, if he did maybe Carrie would come around eventually, or maybe she just never will.

Jon rose from the floor and ran to his studio to write down some lyrics that were running through his head, lyrics about Carrie, and about giving up. It seemed like the only option left for him, he didn't want to be in pain anymore, and he was tired of being yelled at all the time. All he wanted to do was to show her how much he loved her. Those words left his mouth every time he saw her but she never listened. Carrie ignored him like he was a ghost, someone who didn't matter. Maybe he didn't matter, maybe he was useless. It wouldn't surprise him, after all his dad walked out on his mom when he was 16, always knowing that it could've been his fault.

"I love your mother very much" is what he always told Jon.

However, if he really loved her he wouldn't have walked out. His father, Paul was his hero, he looked too him for everything and then he woke up one morning and Paul was gone, there was nothing to be seen but his mother sitting quietly at the kitchen table, and Carrie watching television with her tiara on her head not saying a single word.

"Where's dad?" he said in a curious tone. He knew something was seriously wrong; his mother was never this quiet, she was the happy and talkative type, and now she was hushed. "Mom, where is Dad, I wanna show him something?" She looked at him with those hurt eyes; he could tell she was crying.

"Your father…isn't living here anymore honey, he left last night." She said as she pulled him aside so Carrie couldn't hear. What story did she tell Carrie, she was only 10? Was Carrie old enough to know that their dad had just abandoned them?

The whole conversation had rushed back to him in his studio like a rushing wind. Jon could never forgive his dad, not after he had lied to him all the time about how he loved his wife so dearly. Paul had lied to his son, and Jon hadn't talked to him since the night before he left. So much pain was inside his heart, he was screaming silently inside while writing his song ever so fast, and singing at the top of his lungs while thinking of Carrie, then his dad. The music stopped, and Carrie crept into the room standing next to him quietly.

"Hi." Carrie said in a hushed whisper.

"Hi."

"There's a dent in our door."

"Oh, okay thanks for letting me know." Jon silently mumbled when he knew the dent came from him kicking it. So immature of him it felt like.

"Yeah, well I'm gonna go to bed I guess, have fun doing whatever you were doing."

"Carrie." Jon stopped her in her tracks. "Goodnight, I love you."

Carrie ran out of the room and slammed his studio door shut ignoring him like she always had before. "God, give her good dreams tonight." Whispering while trying not to cry all over again, at least she didn't say I hate you.

The guitar was packed away, and papers were scattered everywhere as he turned off the lights, got a bottle of water and said another prayer for Carrie, praying for good dreams, not nightmares. Heading up the stairs he knew he couldn't give up on what was important to him, Carrie was all that was left, his only family. God had a plan, and it was bigger than anyone's wildest imagination. God was going to use Jon in this; he was going to grab a hold of Carrie's heart. Jon knew it to be true; he felt it in his heart. Life was a climb, a rollercoaster and he had to embrace every second of it praying and loving Carrie even if she ignored it.

Paul was a different story; Jon had already given up on him. He idolized his dad, but he had lived a lie and nothing else seemed to matter. Jon was angry with him. The fact that he had left Carrie when she was still so little, she still wore a tiara on her head from time to time in hopes of meeting a prince one day, and winning an Olympic Gold medal, she was such a happy little girl, always singing, always laughing. When Paul left, Carrie would cling to Jon all the time asking if he could watch her do her gymnastics, sing with her, or just be around her. He smiled at this but frowned because Carrie wasn't that little girl anymore, she was angry, and worst of all she hated him and he didn't even know why and that frightened him. He crept over her bedroom door to see that she was still awake.

"Hey!" Jon said as he had frightened her.

"Hi" she mumbled as she was trying to hide something. Jon moved closer to notice that her arm was full of blood.

"Carrie, you're bleeding."

"Oh yea I know, just picking a scab from earlier today. I fell."

"Ew, that's nasty!"

Carrie rolled her eyes. "Why are you in here? Checking up on me? Well don't, I'm fine."

"Carrie, I…" his voice trailed off somewhere in the distance

"What? I'm fine, just about to go to bed… just please leave me alone, I don't want to talk to you." Carrie whispered loudly and it seemed like she knew it had gotten to Jon. Jon tried to fight back the tears while wondering where the years had went when she had completely adored him, now everything was different as if he wasn't even allowed to breathe the same air as her. His heart was screaming, wanting so desperately to talk to his sister and have a friendship with her. There was a tint of hope but it was slowly fading.

"Night" Jon had slowly slipped out of her room and slammed his door shut. His tears flowed silently trying to control the anger but couldn't help but punch his mirror. His faith in God, love for music, and the love for his life was disintegrating. Jonathan Steingard was falling apart. Even though he did what he could to hide it, he couldn't always do it.