Hey there my lovely readers, I want to thank ashlee (guest) and aesham01 for the reviews, thanks guys, I'm really happy that you like the story so far.

I don't own Austin and Ally and anything else that's not part of my imagination. Sorry for any kind of mistakes.

Well here's chapter 3

When my mom passed away, my heart became an empty place that I couldn't fill in any way. I tried a lot of things but I managed to keep myself together as best as I could. This got my father even more depressed. So after trying for months I found my way of filling my hollow heart. It's going to the cemetery to talk to my mom and that's where I'm going now. It's been already three weeks or so since school started and my father came back. Thankfully, he never found out about me using his car while he was gone, but now I can't use his car anymore. So I am off to riding the bus again. I always have to take the bus to the cemetery because it's out of town and too long of a walk. I stopped at the bus stop and when the bus came I hopped in. I sat on the first single sit available.

I don't know why but I don't like sitting next to somebody. It just makes me feel uncomfortable. I pulled out my iPod and put my headphones in as I put it on shuffle mode. I lock my gaze on the street and watch houses trees and people passing by. After about 10 minutes of looking nowhere, I turn my gaze to the bus. It's more crowded than couple stops before. After being raised in the part of the city I was, it's really hard to get used to seeing people who are not always in good shape or not very clean and tidy. I'm not saying that my family is rich because we are far away from being considered rich. But having our own family business, we had money. I looked over and saw a young woman with a baby in her lap; the little girl was sleeping. Then I looked in another direction and saw a beggar with some stuff in a huge bag. Not a very pleasant thing to see but what can I say, life's not easy for anybody. Everyone has problems to call their own, though some less than others.

After that I closed my eyes. I had some quiet time to relax so I used it. I listened to the steady beat of the music; getting lost in it. When I closed my eyes I saw a flashback of my mother. She was really young. She was standing by the door leading to the kitchen and was gesturing with hands for me to go to her.

The memory was blurry and hard to define. Most of my memories of her are of my early childhood. Mostly all of my memoirs as a child them involve my mother. Sometimes I think it's weird.

Not opening my eyes, I let a single tear roll down my cheek. Then remembering where I was and I looked out of the window and saw the bus stop sign. It was time for me to go off the bus. The cemetery was not far away from the stop so I started walking. It was really peaceful, but it was colder than in our neighborhood so I pulled my hoodie out of my bag and put it on.
After walking little more I saw gates leading to the graveyard. I opened it slowly, making a really bad scratching noise. I stepped inside and looked around. It is so peaceful here. There is an old man who takes care of this place and with the exception of a couple man and women, almost nobody comes here. There are large trees all around the place and some small bushes too. The flowers' amazing smell floats in the air. It's autumn now and yellow leaves are everywhere. If it weren't a graveyard, it would be one of my most favorite places.

I saw my mother's grave and approached it. I sat on the edge and started talking, "Hey Mom. Sorry for not coming for so long time. It's been two weeks since I've been here, but it was because dad was on the convention again and he only came home a week earlier. This week I was really busy with school work, sonic boom, and dad."

At this moment I tried really hard to hold back my tears but it was becoming impossible. My words became really hard to hear because I was struggling to breathe while holding back tears.

"When he came back from his long three week 'vacation' I thought he would have been kind of calmed, relaxed, and rested, but he was totally opposite. He ignored me to the extreme that he didn't even look at me. To put aside all my emotions and other stuff, it plainly hurts that he chooses to ignore me. I know he needs help but he refuses. He doesn't want any help from me or any other person. He thinks that if he has a drink and gets wasted that all his problems will vanish. That's not true. Do you remember mom, how he always used to refuse to drink. Do you remember him being happy? Mom I haven't seen him happy for so long. Just tell me what can I do to make him happy?"

By this time I was already crying and my face was all wet from tears.

"Mom do you remember Austin? I have told you about him many times and I have told you about our fight too. Well our friendship hasn't mended yet.

I'm trying but something is always stopping me. It seems like my shoes get glued to the floor and I can't move when I see him. I'm ready to forgive him because the fact that we got in an argument was not only his fault but mine too. He was really stubborn, he always wants everything to be perfect, but that's not life; that's a fairy tale. I tried to make him understand my problems but he was too stubborn to listen to me. All I wanted at that moment was his attention, for two minutes, which I didn't get. And I was too stupid that I didn't make him stop and listen to me. I always knew that I tend to be stupid from time to time, but that was really the stupidest thing I have ever done. Looking back, that mistake, not only ruined his future, his dreams, but mine too. For now I have no chances to accomplish my dreams and I'm stuck here with my drunken dad with no bright future."

I stopped talking for a while to try and calm myself. After my harsh breathing and river of tears turned into quite sobbing I continued talking.

"Mom I wish you were with me now. Life seemed so much easier when you were around me and dad. Mom I need you. Please, Mom, I really need you."

I just closed my eyes and listened to everything around me. I don't know how or why, but nature really calms me. It has its unique music that calms me down no matter how bad of mood I'm in.

"Bye mom" I said looking up at the sky.

I slowly pulled myself up and made my way back to the bus stop.

The bus ride home was quiet until it started raining. I had to run back home to not get soaked wet.

When I came back home, as soon as I entered the house, I saw my dad lying on the couch sleeping. I pulled off my shoes and entered the living room.

Then I took the empty bottle from his hands and put a blanket over him.

I know I'm not the only person suffering from the loss of my mother. My father, he has changed a lot since then. He was never the one to drink. He once even said that drinking was going to kill the human race. Kind of a big thing to say but my father was exactly the kind of man to say that; 'Was' because that was his old self… the one who left this world with my mother. Now he drinks and the things that he does on his conventions, I don't even want to think about it.

My parents made me realize that love does exist and that it continues living even if one half dies. The details of my life for the past two years are saved with a lock deep down in my heart. I let him do whatever he wants because if he doesn't, the pain will be unbearable for him and he might crash under the pressure.

Their love was very strong. It was seen in their eyes every time they looked at each other.
Sometimes when I see my father at home he has a picture or my mother's writing in his hands and while he is sobbing quietly, he says, "I love you. I miss you," over and over again.

I never tried to comfort him. Actually I tried once but he said to just leave him alone.
When he was drunk it was almost midnight, and I walked into the kitchen to get some water. I saw my father with some drink in his hand in the living room. When I entered the living room he turned to face me and said, "You know how much you remind me of her?" and instantly tears starting falling from his face like heavy rain. My father never cried, at least in front me. He said that it was weakness for men to cry. I myself think otherwise, but he never listened to me.

"Your face, your hair, your hands and your voice… The way you play piano, the way you pull your head slightly back while playing, closing your eyes to let music reach your mind. That is just the way your mother used to act. You know how much I miss her touch and her voice; I would give up everything to hear her voice again. Do you know how much it hurts seeing you every day? You are a copy of your mother in every motion. It just hurts seeing you and not her by my side."

He took another sip from his bottle as he just closed his eyes and fell asleep. The next day he didn't even remember what he had said the previous night, but the words he said really got stuck in my heart. I spent whole night thinking, unable to sleep. Part of me was calm because I knew the reason why my father was acting the way he was. But another part was really worried.

He didn't hate me, he would never hate me. He just couldn't stand me anymore. Admitting to yourself that your father, the only closest relative you have left, couldn't stand your presence was very hard and painful.

I know everybody wants to know why I don't play music anymore. Music is a very painful subject for me to talk about. My most favorite instrument is the piano because my mother taught me how to play it. I haven't played for two years. I haven't written a single lyric for about the same amount of time. I played piano a couple times, nothing serious, just classic compositions, but my music sessions always ended up with me falling on the ground sobbing for hours. After that I just stopped trying and locked myself out, away from music. Every time I even touch one key on the piano, many flashbacks go through my head; flashbacks of past life. Which were great, when my mother was with me. Now those happy days are in my memory.

It may seem a little boring and not that interesting, but I need something to start with, I promise next few chapters will be way more interesting.

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Until next time.

Salome ;)