Chapter 1

DRIVING DOWN THAT ROAD IN THE MIDDLE OF THE HOT, JULY, SUMMER HEAT, I was thinking. My new shiny convertible bounced around on the gravel road. I could hear the gravel pieces bouncing off the sides of the new black paint, probably carrying a bunch of dirt with it. I could just now picture my little over a week old car, which I had just gotten for my seventeenth birthday, with smudges of dirt and mud all over the sides. I sighed. I really don't mind the dirt on the car, but Lucille, she would be a whole different matter. She would make me get a two-hundred-dollar carwash at the slightest hint of dirt on my car, but not before having a cow and trying to sue whoever had let the road get so muddy. Sigh. Well, that's Lucille for you. Ever since I can remember, Lucille, though she was just my nanny and when I got older, my housekeeper, has been acting like my mother. My dad, who owns the multi-billion dollar chain store, Target, is fine with Lucille acting as my mother since he is very busy being a parent, and oh, yeah, a mulit-billionaire. So I don't see him much, which is fine with me, it's not like I hate the guy, it's just that I dont like being in my mansion of a house with butlers and cooks and nurses (nurses? I don't know) walking around asking if they can get you some tea. I just like driving around with the wind blowing in my hair. Well, actually, I used to like driving around in my air-conditioned yellow bug, which I got on my sixteenth birthday, but my dad insisted on getting me a convertible this year 'We live in Florida where the sun shines everyday and it's not too hot, unlike California, ugh. Did you hear that the other day there was an earthquake there...' Then my dad started ranting on about how unsafe it was to live in California, and he made me promise, like, a hundred times that I would never live there, before I got to, luckily, scamper up to the familiar scent of my room and the sound of my boom box vibrating the floor with my Eminem music. The guy has something against California, I wonder if it has to do something with that a few days after I was born, my mom left to go see her 'deathly ill aunt' out in Cali, she never came back. Though,a week after she was supposed to return, she sent a ridiculously long letter to us basically saying that she has 'moved on' and she is 'happy now' and she wishes the same for us. All my dad has told me about her is that she was a child at heart and needed looking after. After he had read and re-read the letter that his love had sent him in return of his love to last lifetimes, Lucille told me that my dad had walked out of the room muttering something about a dedicated man with lots of paitence. Lucille had stared, glassy eyed out the window, and, as if she was in a trance, told me that was the first and last time she has seen a confused and unsure look in my dad's eyes. Shuddering at the thought of how she looked, wishful almost, and I kicked myself inside for thinking of my mother agian. She left me, she didn't care about me, so why should I just be sitting around moping all day about something that never exsisted, something that never will.

This chapter will be continued in another post.

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