I already found some tiny little mistakes in my fic, not to mention the
silly vocabulary... but I'll keep writing anyway. Let's move to
Chapter Seven
So that was how we've started to hang out together. More and more, we were attaching to each other. Like glue. We went to the farm together almost every weekend; to basketball games and even to the movies, that he didn't like that much. It didn't matter anyway, Sodapop Patrick Curtis and Susan Mary Jones were just having the biggest fun in the world.
Everything was going just fine. Today, I would have been suspicious of such happiness and would surely get ready for something bad to happen. But not back then, I wasn't jaded than as I am now. I was just being happy.
One afternoon, I was doing my homework while dad watched TV. Mother had left two hours ago, she needed to buy us some stuff to eat. I answered the phone when it rang, some unknown voice asked to speak to dad. And while dad listened to the things the unknown voice was telling him, he was getting more and more pale, and suddenly he fell, twisting his body as if he was feeling some kind of... pain.
Then he ran. He just stood up and ran without telling me what was happening or where was he going. I just couldn't do anything about it, so I tried to get back to my homework. But dad's behavior made me uneasy. Why would he leave like that, with fear in his face?
Dad came back four hours later. He found me in the kitchen fixing supper while I drank a glass of orange juice. Truth was, he had been called by the police. He needed to go recognize the body of a woman who was hit by a car seven blocks away from our house. Mother was dead.
The sound of breaking glass, and the linoleum of our kitchen was suddenly dyed in orange. I couldn't cry, I was simply petrified. And I didn't hug dad either, maybe because he was an extremely cold person, even concerning his own daughter. Or maybe because I just didn't feel like hugging anybody.
It was my turn to get out of the house running. I just wanted to run towards the end of the world, to run and to get where my mother were, to hold her with all my strength and explain the police that the body they've found couldn't be mother's, because obviously mother would never leave me...
I didn't mean to hurt dad not hugging him. Inside my disturbed mind there was no reason to hug him, no reason at all, cause mother wouldn't leave me for nothing in this world. and since thinking about this now won't do no good, I'll just keep telling my story. Well, I ran, and maybe I would indeed get to the end of the world if I didn't bumped into Sodapop on my way there.
Looking at that fresh, glowing face made me fall apart. Now I was hugging Soda the tighter I could, sobbing like never before. The worst pain I've felt in all my life so far. He wouldn't say a thing, cause he knew me we too well to understand that I didn't want to talk, all I needed to do was cry.
I got sick from being miserable, and spent 3 entire days in bed. Soda wouldn't leave me, even though I kept being harsh to him all the time. Then I gave it up and started to talk to him about mom. Sometimes he cried too, he loved mom, everybody loved mom. Sod was the only one I wanted to talk to.
Dad was sick too. His lungs were no good and he wouldn't quit smoking. Then one day, maybe the next Tuesday, he came home earlier from the car shop and made a simple statement:
"We're taking off to Houston in five hours. Get your things ready."
Chapter Seven
So that was how we've started to hang out together. More and more, we were attaching to each other. Like glue. We went to the farm together almost every weekend; to basketball games and even to the movies, that he didn't like that much. It didn't matter anyway, Sodapop Patrick Curtis and Susan Mary Jones were just having the biggest fun in the world.
Everything was going just fine. Today, I would have been suspicious of such happiness and would surely get ready for something bad to happen. But not back then, I wasn't jaded than as I am now. I was just being happy.
One afternoon, I was doing my homework while dad watched TV. Mother had left two hours ago, she needed to buy us some stuff to eat. I answered the phone when it rang, some unknown voice asked to speak to dad. And while dad listened to the things the unknown voice was telling him, he was getting more and more pale, and suddenly he fell, twisting his body as if he was feeling some kind of... pain.
Then he ran. He just stood up and ran without telling me what was happening or where was he going. I just couldn't do anything about it, so I tried to get back to my homework. But dad's behavior made me uneasy. Why would he leave like that, with fear in his face?
Dad came back four hours later. He found me in the kitchen fixing supper while I drank a glass of orange juice. Truth was, he had been called by the police. He needed to go recognize the body of a woman who was hit by a car seven blocks away from our house. Mother was dead.
The sound of breaking glass, and the linoleum of our kitchen was suddenly dyed in orange. I couldn't cry, I was simply petrified. And I didn't hug dad either, maybe because he was an extremely cold person, even concerning his own daughter. Or maybe because I just didn't feel like hugging anybody.
It was my turn to get out of the house running. I just wanted to run towards the end of the world, to run and to get where my mother were, to hold her with all my strength and explain the police that the body they've found couldn't be mother's, because obviously mother would never leave me...
I didn't mean to hurt dad not hugging him. Inside my disturbed mind there was no reason to hug him, no reason at all, cause mother wouldn't leave me for nothing in this world. and since thinking about this now won't do no good, I'll just keep telling my story. Well, I ran, and maybe I would indeed get to the end of the world if I didn't bumped into Sodapop on my way there.
Looking at that fresh, glowing face made me fall apart. Now I was hugging Soda the tighter I could, sobbing like never before. The worst pain I've felt in all my life so far. He wouldn't say a thing, cause he knew me we too well to understand that I didn't want to talk, all I needed to do was cry.
I got sick from being miserable, and spent 3 entire days in bed. Soda wouldn't leave me, even though I kept being harsh to him all the time. Then I gave it up and started to talk to him about mom. Sometimes he cried too, he loved mom, everybody loved mom. Sod was the only one I wanted to talk to.
Dad was sick too. His lungs were no good and he wouldn't quit smoking. Then one day, maybe the next Tuesday, he came home earlier from the car shop and made a simple statement:
"We're taking off to Houston in five hours. Get your things ready."
