Jeremiah sat nervously on the hard, plastic chair savouring the view around her. Really she was just trying to not think about the events of earlier that day. What was going to happen to her? Suddenly, she felt guilt creep up the back of her spine and into her mouth. She had killed her own mother. She was only thirteen, she had barely lived life. Her mother was her whole life, her main care giver. Slowly, Jeremiah forced herself to think about what had happened.
Her mom was really pissing her off, being so demanding saying, "Empty the dishwasher, take out the trash, clean your room!" She had been cleaning all day! She had gotten so bored she scraped the label off of the bleach bottle. Once she had finished she took the bottle of bleach downstairs and put it on the counter. She grabbed herself a glass of water and sat down at the dining room table. Her mother walked in and Jeremiah scowled at her and stuck her middle finger up. Her mother looked shocked.
"Jeremiah! You really need to sort out your attitude!" shouted her mother, angrily picking up a bottle of the counter and chugging down.
"Shut up you stupid bitch. I hate you" replied Jeremiah, turning to face the other way. Her mother said nothing. Jeremiah smiled, knowing she had probably won the argument. She turned back around and screamed. Her mother was choking and gasping for breath. Jeremiah stayed sitting down, looking horrified at the situation. Her mother fell to the floor and blood poured out of her mouth. She started shaking and was attempting to scream. She looked up at Jeremiah with tears in her eyes and blood all over her face. She dropped to the ground, fumbling around. Then she was deadly still.
Jeremiah jumped as a pretty lady with long brown hair tapped her shoulder. She hadn't realised she was crying until now.
"Oh dear, it's okay, its okay!" said the pretty lady, pulling Jeremiah in for a hug. They let go and the lady lead her to a little office with paintings all over the walls. She sat down on the chairs in front of a big oak desk, wiping her eyes with her sleeve.
"So my name is Freya and I'm here to help you with everything that ………. happened. So what's your name sweet?" asked Freya, smiling somewhat sympathetically.
"Jeremiah." said Jeremiah quietly, looking at the ground. She felt another tear slide down her face. Freya sighed.
"Well Jeremiah, your dad has agreed to look after you from now on, so you get to live in LA!" said Freya excitedly.
Jeremiah snapped her head up.
"My dad?" she questioned, curiously.
"Yes, I'm guessing your mother never told you?" said Freya. Jeremiah nodded. " Your parents had a ……. liaison when they were younger and your dad was dealing with newfound fame and other details which made him unable to be a parent at the time."
"Wait, fame? W-who is my dad?" asked Jeremiah, confused.
"Your dad is Adam Levine."