Story Part One!

Instructions

It’s better this way By: Willow Prologue The first thing I noticed when I glanced up from my ruined pre-calc book was that my music was off. Then I noticed that everything was pitch black. I know I have amazing priorities. The hum of the washer and dryer was off and I was in a total stillness. I breathed it in and realized how calm everything was. How still and frozen time felt. Then I heard the pounding of footsteps from down the hall and I heard the door swing open. “Nova? Are you okay?!” My mother gasped from my doorway. No, I am choking on air. I rolled my eyes and tried to keep all trace of my thoughts from my voice as I said, “I am fine, Mom.” I heard her give a sigh of relief and visualized her swiping her bangs off her forehead. I wanted to punch anyone who said that we looked nothing alike. No matter how true that statement was. My mother had short curly blonde hair with bangs. Her eyes were a pale blue and she was always smiling. I had long wavy dark brown hair and striking green eyes. My mother said I was the spitting image of my father. But I didn’t want to look like my father. My father left my mother when he learned she was pregnant again. When he left, he ripped a hole in me and took my trust in people with him. Before my dad left I had had friends. I was always begging my mom to let me hang out and go down to the cold ocean. But my father taught me an important lesson. That people always leave and you can't stop it. I started pulling away from people until eventually alone became my normal. Yes, my friends did try to keep in contact with me but eventually they stopped. I didn’t blame them. I would give up on me too. My mother ended up having a miscarriage. So it was just my mom and me. We moved out of our seaside bungalow and moved more inland in a small cramped apartment. My mother started working two jobs and I had to learn how to take care of myself. I cooked and cleaned and did my homework. I had only been eight but I had to grow up. And now, two years later, I had it down to a science. Wake up and make lunch for myself and mom, catch the bus, ignore the whispers and name-calling, sit in the back of class and pretend I was invisible, and then finally catch a bus ride home to do homework and make dinner. And of course leave time for stargazing. My roof might be the only time I have ever wanted anything to do with my dad. When I was young he would take me up to our roof and we would stay out for hours. He taught me names of constellations and I could identify stars before I started the 2nd grade. The sky was like an extra limb, I was attached to and it was a part of me.