You know what, screw the first five reviews. People are reading and aren't reviewing, which is really irritating when I directly ask for your opinions. So this is for you SvC1610512

My fingers desperately clutch my new iPhone, with it's case matching that of the wonderful girl beside me. Too soon. Way too soon. I'm not ready!

"Promise you'll come and visit when you can?" Ally hug's me and whispers. We hadn't reached the air port yet, but we were already saying out good byes.

"I'll try." I sniffled. She hugged me tighter. We stayed that way for about fifteen minutes, until we reached the air port. We have to seperate to get out of the Sullivan's van.

No no no no NO! I'm not ready, I don't want to go! Ally, don't let them take me away, please please please! I don't want to, I don't want to!

"Mr. and Mr. Sullivan." A woman with bleached blond hair and a man with greasy black hair that hangs in his face greeted us at the front entrance of the air port. Ally's parents nodded, but said nothing. The woman reminds me of a Barbie, with probably just about as much plastic in her. Human being these days are recyclable...

"Come along, Miss Brennan." The lady said in a sickly sweet voice. A voice more cloying that the whole crap load of perfume she was wearing. Even her bright green eyes were fake, no ones eyes are that bright of a green. I don't even know her name and I hate her. Right now I actually hate just about every one. Any one who's happy, and any one like Barbie girl here.

"I'll call you and text you every second!" Ally was sobbing into her knuckles. The lady and the quiet guy whisked me away before I could reply. Before I could say good bye, and I love you. The man grabbed my bad and far too soon I was sitting on a plane ready to meet my dad. OK, no. Not ready. Not ready. I had window seat, row 4 on the left hand side. There was an elderly woman sitting quietly beside me. She seemed just as sad as me.

"Hello." I spoke softly, half hoping she wouldn't hear me. But she did.

"Are you speaking to me, deary?" Her voice is small and wavering, shaking. I like her voice. I nod.

"Ah huh. Why do you seem so sad ma'am?" I speak in the polite, proper way I was taught, by Mom. I want to start crying again. This pain in my chest... I rub at the black clothed spot over the pain, over my heart.

"I can ask, you the very same, dear. But I'm going to my nephew's funeral. He was killed in a car accident." The elderly woman told me sadly, her eyes shining with unshed tears. Her skin is sagging and yellowish with age. Her hands are covered in light brown liver spots and she smells like flowery perfumes. Despite her age, and her sadness, her eyes are a warm, kind shade of brow, and I feel like I could lose myself in them, in a happier time when Mom... when Mom was-

"My Mom just passed away the same way." I whispered, my voice straining.

"Oh, no! These things are awful! We were better off walking, and biking everywhere." She shakes her head. Tears slide down her wrinkled cheeks.

"Maybe, maybe not. It's arguable, but I agree. We just get lazier and lazier and too many good people die hen they don't have too!" Tears fall from both of our eyes now.

"Here here." The lady said. I hold one of her hands in both of mine as we venture into silence. There should be babies screaming, people talking, and I know they are, but all I can here are this woman's sad, shallow breathing and the soft plip, plip, of our tears droppind onto the hard arm rests and onto the hard, unforgiving floor.

We fly for what seems like hours. We stayed that way the whole time. Quiet, remembering. Missing the deceased. Mom's funeral was earlier today, and it was horrible. Too few people showed up, and right in the end I left a single black rose and a single white one on the heavy lid of her coffin. In a sea of red roses, if it hadn't been because my mother died, I would have thought it actually quite pretty.

When we landed, right before we parted ways, I turned to the woman. I don't know what compelled me to say it, but I did.

"You're still beautiful to me."

Then I grabbed my bag and I ran. I turned a corner and peeked out. She was staring right at me, shock in her sorrowful eyes, but there was one of the happiest smiles on her face. I wave good bye and walk toward the place I'm supposed to meet my dad. I pull out my wallet and order a diet coke from a Starbucks coffee shop. They give me my drink, I ay and I leave. I'll never be hungry again, but right now I feel like I'm about to dehydrate to a teeny tiny husk. As good as that sounded when I was crying in between Ally and her mom it's a lot less pleasant when put into practice.

I walk outside and I catch a glimpse of the elderly woman from the place, standing beside a pretty lady with jet black hair who was holding a small baby in her arms. The lady was crying, wearing all black. Like me.

I find a man holding a sign with my name on it right beside entrance c, where I was told to meet him.

"Hi." I said sadly.

"Victoria Brennan?" He seems very nervous, sad and almost excited. I nod.

"I'm Jeremy Phills." He offers me a hand, which I take gingerly. I don't like this man.

"Let's get you to see your dad. He knows you're coming, just has a few last minute preparations." Phills grins at me, but I don't smile back. He holds the door for me and I take the passenger seat of his old Ford. I must have fallen asleep because the next thing I know Phills is shaking my shoulder telling me it's alright and not to be afraid. We were already there. My stomach plunged right into my feet.

"Ready?"

"I'm not ready I will never be ready I just want to go home!"

I nod anyways. Phills knocks loudly on the door and a harassed looking man opens the door.

"Christopher Howard?" Phills asks.

"Kit. That's me." He shakes Phills' hand.

"This is Victoria Brennan, your daughter. She'll be living with you until she is of age." He bowed and walked back to his ancient rusty bluish Ford.

"It's Tory." I mutter quietly. Kit says nothing but leads me into his house. He shows me my room and where everything is, and then nervously backs out. I'm left alone again. Why am I always being left alone. I'm tired. I'm tired of fighting my own battles, I just want to let some one else fight them for me. Just for one day! Is that such a bad thing to ask? To want? To just give it up for twenty four hours and let some one else deal with it all?

But the world doesn't work like that.

I go to bed without checking my phone.

Not crazy long, but like I said, this is for SvC1610512 and if you don't like that maybe you should start reviewing and I might add you into my special thanks to. But seriously people, you read it, it takes 5 seconds to even just send me a smiley face! It's not that difficult!

Thanks SvC1610512 , you are wonderful and I hope you liked this. It's not my best work, for sure, but I'm happy enough with it.