6 comments/ 8217 views/ 0 favorites Zoe Parker Ch. 01 By: Into_The_Rabbit_Hole "Everything used to be perfect," She thought to herself as she lay in bed. Her favorite stuffed purple fuzzy monkey, Roger, held tightly against her chest under her folded arms. It had been a rough three years for Zoe Parker. Her parents had been married for ten years. They had been a normal, happy family for those ten years. Then it all fell apart. A little bit of bickering evolved into full on shouting matches. Any resemblance of that loving, quaint family was gone. Zoe didn't know how it got that bad. It wasn't something she could see coming or predict. It just seemed to grow, like a storm coming off the lake and then suddenly the little drops of rain turned into a huge down pour accompanied by the crashing thunder of broken dishes and screamed curses. She lay there, chin tucked into her chest, nuzzling her nose into the fuzzy head of Roger. She could hear her mother screaming again. This time it was because Zoe's father was unable to make the six hour trip for a visit he scheduled months ago. It had to do with work or something, Zoe found herself numb to the ever growing spew of reasons. She didn't care anymore. She had spoken to her father on the phone three times in the past eighteen months and seen him two times less than that. She didn't expect him to come. Her mother was a different story. You never realize how much a woman can change when she loses the man she loves and her heart shatters. Sandra Parker always seemed to be more upset that she wouldn't see Zoe's father rather than that he didn't care enough to make the trip to see Zoe. Indeed, even after three years she was still in love with him. When he left she tried to fill the void inside her with some light drinking. An occasional wine with dinner, going out for drinks with friends every now and then, in Zoe's mind, these were completely normal for an adult to do. It's when things began to escalate that Zoe could see her mother was developing a problem. One glass of wine at night turned into numerous glasses throughout the day. Going out for a drink once a week had turned into NOT going out once a week. The drinking had stopped a year ago. That was when Sandra found out Zoe's father had remarried. The news came without notice. Just a call one afternoon to announce that he had met someone a year ago, they had gotten married in a tiny ceremony a week ago and that he was moving six hours away with his new wife and her daughter. A love story wrapped up in a 5 minute phone call. Zoe didn't blame her father for hiding it. For the same reason she didn't blame her father for not making more of an effort to see her. Since the split Zoe's mother was a different person. The loving, warm woman who loved to bake oatmeal cookies, color with crayons and never once swore; that woman Zoe knew as her mother was replaced with an empty, cold woman who when she wasn't furiously angry was an emotionless zombie of a mother. But her mother putting away the alcohol wasn't the blessing it should have been for Zoe. The bottle had been replaced with a needle. Zoe noticed the tell tale signs of heroin use right away but couldn't put the pieces together and realize that's where they pointed. She had noticed her mother's sudden drop in weight, the heavy bags under her eyes, and the fact that she never slept at night. Before, Zoe's mother was constantly yelling at her about something, making her feel like her father leaving was her fault, making her feel as if she ruined her mother's life; at least now her mother stopped yelling and would mostly just leave Zoe to herself. While this wasn't the ideal life for Zoe she saw it as an improvement and figured things could continue to get better over time. Then three months ago her eyes were opened. She came home from school and had to use the bathroom. The door was locked and her mother was inside. "Mom, I have to use the bathroom," Zoe called through the wooden door. Her mother replied with a frantic tone, "Zoe, you're going to have to wait. I'm busy in here!" "Mom, I can't wait. I REALLY gotta go," Zoe pleaded with her mom. Her mother's rushed tone spat back, "Just go away Zoe. Let me be. Go away." Like the majority of older houses there was a trick to unlocking the bathroom door. Zoe had learned this and mastered it long ago. She went to the kitchen, grabbed a butter knife and returned to the locked entrance. She stealthily wedged the blade between the door and its frame. With an experienced flick of the wrist, she popped the mechanism and the door slowly swung open. Zoe looked at her mother and the butter knife slipped from her then limp fingers and fell to the floor. Directly in front of Zoe was her mother, sitting on the toilet, sprawled back against the tank, legs and arms spread out. On the middle of her left arm was a just untightened rubber tube, on her forearm fresh needle marks and on the sink counter next to her lay a needle, a bent blackened spoon, lighter and a small plastic baggie with white powdery residue. Sandra Parker tried to reach out for her daughter, tried to offer some kind of explanation, but instead only incoherent babble fell from her lips. She dropped her hand in defeat, slinked back against the toilet and let her eyes roll into the back of her head as the high took her over. Zoe stared, mouth gaping open, unable to move, or think or feel. She witnessed her mother's fruitless attempt to explain, she saw the evidence and while only being thirteen years old was by no means a dummy. The Drug Awareness class she was in the previous year had taught her enough. She knew her mother had just shot up with heroine. Zoe, without making a sound, reached up, grabbed the bathroom door handle and slowly closed it behind her. She walked, step by step to her room. She crawled into bed, reached out, pulled Roger's furry body into her own, rolled to her side, stared blankly at the wall and began to weep. It wouldn't be the last time Zoe found solace in the embrace of her purple monkey Roger and the solitude of staring at the wall. For the next three months, every time she saw her mother and knew she was high she would slowly walk to her room, grab Roger and continue her position staring at the wall and sobbing. This would happen three to four times a week. When she would come into the kitchen, see her mother with that drugged out smile and simply turn around and head to her room without muttering a word. Her mother never seemed to notice. Then again, her mother never seemed to notice anything these days. Whether it was Zoe's failing grades, the letters from her teachers that came in the mail, or the black eye she came home with after a fight at school, Zoe's mother wandered around the house in a complete haze totally oblivious to the world around her. "Today will probably be no different," Zoe was thinking to herself as she walked home from school. She dreaded school. She dreaded coming home. She dreaded just about everything in her life. She especially dreaded the thought of coming home to find her mother high again. She knew the odds were likely. Her mother's drug use had grown noticeably over the past couple weeks. Zoe wasn't angry at her mother. She loved her mother more than anything in this world and simply felt complete sadness that her mother was hurting so much inside that she had to resort to drugs. Zoe just wanted her mother back. As Zoe reached her destination on the sidewalk, made the turn and headed to her front steps she bit her lower lip. "This is it. Let's see how high she is today," She thought to herself concerning the condition of her drug addicted mother. The handle turned slowly as Zoe opened the door and entered the house. It was silent inside but it was always silent inside. The television disappeared months ago and Zoe's mother never listened to music anymore. Zoe slid her shoes off at the door and let her backpack drop from her shoulders to the floor as she closed the door behind her. "Mom, I'm home," She called out, somehow, like every day, holding onto the smallest, tiniest chance of a miracle that her mother would call back to her like she used to over three years ago. Silence. Zoe dreaded that. Usually her mother would make some half hearted response and the silence usually indicated Sandra was occupied at the moment by her attempts to get high. Slowly she walked from the front of the house to the kitchen. She noticed a piece of paper sitting on the dinner table. With a snatch she had it in her hand. NOTICE OF EVICTION -- ALL RESIDENTS OF THIS PROPERTY ARE HEREBY COURT ORDERED TO VACATE THE PREMISES NO LATER THAN 10 DAYS FROM THE DATE THIS RECEIVING THIS LETTER. Zoe had feared this. She feared that her mother would be using all of her money to feed her drug habit. Her fear had come true. They had just over a week to find a new place to live. Zoe wondered just how much worse her life could get. Then she saw it out of the corner of her eye. It was the toe of her mother's sneaker. It was sticking out from being the big brown recliner in the living room. Zoe quickly rushed over to the location of her mother. Another fear had come true. Her mother was on her back on the living room carpet, her skin pale and colorless and her eyes staring empty at the ceiling. A small gasp escaped Zoe's lips. Her hand cupped her mouth as she stared at her mother's body. Her hand then went to her mother's mouth and nose. No breath came forth. Then her fingers went to her mother's wrist. Among the old track marks there was no pulse to be felt. She then raised her hand to her mother's forehead and felt the far too cold skin. She looked into her mother's eyes and saw a peace she hadn't seen in three years. No anger. No heroine high. No sadness. She crawled next to her mother, reached out, grasped her mother's hand and pulled it into her chest, rolled to her side, and stared blankly at the wall. She was to dead inside to weep. Zoe Parker Ch. 01 Chapter 1 - The Alpha "Everything used to be perfect," She thought to herself as she lay in bed. Her favorite stuffed purple fuzzy monkey, Roger, held tightly against her chest by her two folded, crossed arms. It had been a rough three years for Zoe Parker. Her parents had been married for ten years. They had been a normal, happy family for those ten years. Then it all fell apart. A little bit of bickering evolved into full on shouting matches. Any resemblance of that loving, quant family was gone. Zoe didn't know how it got that bad. It wasn't something she could see coming or predict. It just seemed to grow, like a storm coming off the lake and then suddenly the little drops of rain turned into a huge down pour accompanied by the crashing thunder of broken dishes and screamed curses. She lay there, chin tucked into her chest, nuzzling her nose into the fuzzy head of Roger. She could hear her mother screaming again. This time it was because Zoe's father was unable to make the six hour trip for a visit he scheduled months ago. It had to do with work or something, Zoe found herself numb to the ever growing spew of reasons. She didn't care anymore. She had spoken to her father on the phone three times in the past eighteen months and seen him two times less than that. She didn't expect him to come. Her mother was a different story. You never realize how much a woman can change when she loses the man she loves and her heart shatters. Sandra Parker always seemed to be more upset that she wouldn't see Zoe's father rather than he cared enough to make the trip to see Zoe. Indeed, even after three years she was still in love with him. When he left she tried to fill the void inside her with some light drinking. An occasional wine with dinner, going out for drinks with friends every now and then, these were all completely normal for an adult to do in Zoe's mind. It's when things began to escalate that Zoe could see her mother was developing a problem. One glass of wine at night turned into numerous glasses throughout the day. Going out for a drink once a week had turned into NOT going out once a week. The drinking had stopped a year ago. That was when Sandra found out Zoe's father had remarried. The news came without notice. Just a call one afternoon to announce that he had met someone a year ago, they had gotten married in a tiny ceremony a week ago and that he was moving six hours away with his new wife and her daughter. A love story wrapped up in a 5 minute phone call. Zoe didn't blame her father for hiding it. For the same reason she didn't blame her father for not making more of an effort to see her. Since the split Zoe's mother was a different person. The loving, warm woman who loved to bake Oatmeal cookies, color with crayons and never once swore; that woman Zoe knew as her mother was replaced with an empty, cold woman who when she wasn't furiously angry was an emotionless zombie of a mother. But her mother putting away the alcohol wasn't the blessing it should have been for Zoe. The bottle had been replaced with a needle. Zoe noticed the tell tale signs of heroin use right away but couldn't put the pieces together and realize that's where they pointed. She had noticed her mother's sudden drop in weight, the heavy bags under her eyes, and the fact that she never slept at night. Whereas before Zoe's mother was constantly yelling at her about something, making her feel like her father leaving was her fault, making her feel as if she ruined her mother's life; at least now her mother stopped yelling and would mostly just leave Zoe to herself. While this wasn't the ideal life for Zoe she saw it as an improvement and figured things could continue to get better over time. Then three months ago her eyes were opened. She came home from school and had to use the restroom. The bathroom door was locked and her mother was inside. "Mom, I have to use the bathroom," Zoe said through the wooden door. Her mother replied with a frantic tone, "Zoe, you're going to have to wait. I'm busy in here." "Mom, I can't wait. I REALLY gotta go," Zoe pleaded with her mom. Her mother's rushed tone spat back, "Just go away Zoe. Let me be. Go away." Like the majority of older houses there is usually a trick to unlocking the bathroom door. Zoe learned this trick long ago. She went to the kitchen, grabbed a butter knife and returned to the locked entrance. She stealthy wedged the blade between the door and its frame. With an experienced flick of the wrist, she popped the mechanism and the door slowly swung open. Zoe looked at her mother and the butter knife slipped from her then limp fingers and fell to the floor. Directly in front of Zoe was her mother, sitting on the toilet, sprawled back against the tank, legs and arms spread out. On the middle of her left arm was a just untightened rubber tube, on her forearm fresh needle marks and on the sink counter next to her lay a needle, a bent blackened spoon, lighter and a small plastic baggie with white powdery residue. Sandra Parker tried to reach out for her daughter, tried to offer some kind of explanation, but instead only incoherent babble fell from her lips. She dropped her hand in defeat, slinked back against the toilet and let her eyes roll into the back of her head as the high took her over. Zoe stared, mouth gaping open, unable to move, or think or feel. She witnessed her mother's fruitless attempt to explain, she saw the evidence and while only being thirteen years old was by no means a dummy. She knew her mother had just shot up with heroine. Zoe, without making a sound, reached up, grabbed the bathroom door handle and slowly closed it behind her. She walked, step by step to her room. She crawled into bed, reached out, pulled Roger's furry body into her own, rolled to her side, stared blankly at the wall and began to weep. It wouldn't be the last time Zoe found solace in the embrace of her purple monkey Roger and the solitude of staring at the wall. For the next three months, every time she saw her mother and knew she was high she would slowly walk to her room, grab Roger and continue her position staring at the wall and sobbing. This would happen three to four times a week for the next three months. She would come into the kitchen, see her mother with that drugged out smile and simply turn around and head to her room without muttering a word. Her mother never seemed to notice. Then again, her mother never seemed to notice anything these days. Whether it was Zoe's failing grades, the letters from her teachers that came in the mail, or the black eye she came home with after a fight at school, Zoe's mother wandered around the house in a complete haze totally oblivious to the world around her. "Today will probably be no different," Zoe was thinking to herself as she walked home from school. She dreaded school. She dreaded coming home. She dreaded just about everything in her life. She especially dreaded the thought of coming home to finding her mother high again. She knew the odds were likely. Her mother's drug use was growing noticeably over the past couple weeks. Zoe wasn't angry at her mother. She loved her mother more than anything in this world and simply felt complete sadness that her mother was hurting so much inside that she had to resort to drugs. Zoe just wanted her mother back. As Zoe reached her destination on the sidewalk, made the turn and headed to her front steps she bit her lower lip. "This is it. Let's see how high she is today," She thought to herself concerning the condition of her drug addicted mother. The handle turned slowly as Zoe opened the door and entered the house. It was silent inside but it was always silent inside. The television disappeared months ago and Zoe's mother never listened to music anymore. Zoe slid her shoes off at the door and let her backpack drop from her shoulders to the ground as she closed the door behind her. "Mom, I'm home," She called out, somehow, like every day, holding onto the smallest, tiniest chance of a miracle that her mother would call back to her like she used to over three years ago. Silence. Zoe dreaded that. Usually her mother would make some half hearted response and the silence usually indicated Sandra was occupied at the moment by her attempts to get high. Slowly she walked from the front of the house to the kitchen. She noticed a piece of paper sitting on the paper. With a snatch she had it in her hand. NOTICE OF EVICTION – ALL RESIDENTS OF THIS PROPERTY ARE HEREBY COURT ORDERED TO VACATE THE PREMISES NO LATER THAN 10 DAYS FROM THIS RECEIVING THIS LETTER. Zoe had feared this. She feared that her mother would be using all of her money to feed her drug habit. Her fear had come true. They had just over a week to find a new place to live. Zoe wondered just how worse her life could get. Then she saw it out of the corner of her eye. It was the toe of her mother's sneaker. It was sticking out from being the big brown recliner in the living room. Zoe quickly rushed over to the location of her mother. Another fear had come true. Her mother was on her back on the living room carpet, her skin pale and colorless and her eyes staring blankly into the air. A small gasp escaped Zoe's lips. Her hand cupped her mouth as she stared at her mother's body. Her hand then went to her mother's mouth and nose. No breath came forth. Then her fingers went to her mother's wrist. Among the old track marks there was no pulse to be felt. She then raised her hand to her mother's forehead and felt the far too cold skin. She looked into her mother's eyes and saw a peace she hadn't seen in three years. No anger. No heroine high. No sadness. She crawled next to her mother, reached out, grasped her mother's hand and pulled it into her chest, rolled to her side, and stared blankly at the wall. She was to dead inside to weep. Zoe Parker Ch. 02 Chapter 2 -The Addiction The large rain drops splashed off of the top of the deep brown casket. The irony of a rainy day funeral was lost on Zoe Parker as she stared at the wooden box that held her deceased mother. Zoe observed the twenty or so people who decided to attend the burial ceremony. The small crowd creating a semi circle around the casket consisted of mostly people from her neighborhood smattered with a few of her mother's old friends. All of them had known Sandra Parker during the better years of her life. All of them seemed to have abandoned her over the past three years as she slipped deeper and deeper into her own personal void. "Hypocrites," Zoe thought to herself. She could feel the bitterness and contentment building within her. The only emotion she had felt since she had finally left laying next to her just perished mother was hate. Being around this gathering of people was doing nothing to reverse that. That feeling dwelled within her now as she looked over the people who disregarded her mother when she needed them the most. Those people who did not find a need to attempt to rescue her mother from the vices that ruined her life. They did show up however when those demons finally took it. Hate is a powerful thing and Zoe felt nothing but that for these people. The seed had been planted six days before when she finally left her mother's side after being there for two hours and travelled next door to inform her neighbor. That seed was slowly watered as the police came to her home, roped off the house, and drew the attention of the entire block. They all gawked and stared. They passed their judgments and make their demeaning remarks. They were there to see her body wheeled out covered by a thin white sheet. None of them cared when she was alive, when she needed them the most. But they all stood at the pew of righteousness feeling better about who they were as people because they weren't the ones suffering. "Damn them," Zoe had swore in her head. That seed of hate so quickly became a sprout and over the next six days leading to the funeral it would grow rapidly. She hated her father, Robert Parker, who couldn't make the trip the day he got the call, forcing her to stay with the neighbors she barely knew and who obviously felt so inconvenienced by her being there. He hated her step mother, Victoria, and her daughter, Gabrielle, for coming along. Neither Zoe or her mother had ever met the two but somehow they pretended to care enough to attend the funeral. Having met them for the first time just eight hours earlier had given her time to hate other things about them. She hated Victoria's shallow, fake smile when she met someone. She hated Gabrielle's almost perfect blonde hair and beautiful features that donned too much makeup for her fifteen year old face. Gabrielle was only two years older than Zoe but with her overdone cosmetics and revealing, fashionable clothes she looked to be seventeen. Zoe, with her dark hair and humble looks, with her baggy sweatshirts and outdated jeans was the exact physical opposite. Right away Zoe hated Gabrielle for that. Hate's an interesting thing. As Zoe stood there among the funeral's attendance, in between her father and stepmother, all she could feel was hatred. It didn't matter that her dead mother was about to be lowered into the ground. Emotions can be drugs. For three years Zoe was a constant user of sadness. When her mother died sadness was no longer effective. She needed a hard drug. That drug was hate and she was addicted. * * * The drive to her father's house was unbearable. Gabrielle with her stylish pink cell phone that slid open three different directions sat next to Zoe and had been talking for three straight hours. If you could call that talking. Zoe had lost count of the amount of "OMG's" and "WTFs" sputtered by her bubbly step sister. It had also been a drive of empty one sided conversation with her step mother so far. "We are happy to have you live with us," Victoria commented to Zoe with so much fake sweetness it almost gave her a cavity. "I'm happy too, Zoe," said her father. The first words he had spoken directly to her since her funeral. "We had to rearrange Vicki's angel room and turn it into a bedroom for you but it was no big deal," her dad remarked kindly. "Not for you maybe but you try putting together a room for a teenage girl with such short notice. I didn't have time to pain. I didn't have time to pick out new drapes. I didn't have time to do ANY real decorating. Not to mention finding a suitable place for my babies," her stop mother shot at her father. Zoe muttered confused, "Babies?" "Victoria collects porcelain angels and had the whole room filled with them. It's ok though. You needed the room more," her dad informed her. Through the rearview mirror Zoe could see her stepmom roll her eyes at her dad's last sentence. Her dad continued, "It's not much. A dresser and a bed. A small night stand and a lamp. We'll work on making it more to how you want it as you get settled in. Maybe decorate it with those silly kittens you love." "I haven't been into kittens since I was eigh....." Zoe began to reply but was almost immediately interrupted by Victoria blurting out. "Kittens?! Robert, please. No girl in my house is going to decorate her room with kittens. I was already planning some really modern color patterns with......." Victoria trailed off as Zoe stopped listening. She could see her stepmother become exuberant talking about the interior design of her new room. Zoe didn't care so she drowned her out. The second three hours of the trip had been easier on Zoe. Victoria put on a thick cloth beauty mask and fell asleep. Gabrielle switched from talking on the phone to clicking away at its keyboard and listening to the white ear buds of her bright pink iPod. Her father drove silently as her listened to the low drones of a sports talk show on the radio. Zoe studied her father through the mirror. The past three years had changed him. He was tan and leaner. He seemed to have lost the goofy, carefree demeanor Zoe knew for so long growing up. It appeared to have been replaced with a heavy sense of seriousness and almost a detachment from everything and everyone around him. It was almost like he was drowning out the world. "I miss mom," Zoe blurted out. She didn't know why she said it. She didn't plan to say it. It just came out. Immediately as the words escaped her lips she felt dumb for saying it in this care, around these people. Then she heard another voice from the front of the care. "Me too," she heard her father say solemnly. Zoe looked at him through the rearview mirror. She saw his eyes filled with deep sadness. The kind of sadness you feel only after a horrible loss. Then she saw it, her father's eyes fill with tears as a couple dropped to his shirt. He quickly rubbed his eyes and reached to the radio turning the volume up. Maybe Zoe didn't hate him so much after all. * * * Zoe caught herself nodding off as they pulled down her father's road. Their road. The reality just hit her that this was now the street that her new home was on. Everything in her life was still in a constant state of change. So it was a bit surreal as the car passed through the middle class neighborhood, filled with clean white picket fences and neatly trimmed, perfectly clean lawns. They came to a stop in the nicely paved, light gray driveway. To the left of the car was a basketball hoop. In front was the white door to a two door garage. Attached to the garage was a beautiful 3 bedroom white house with navy blue shutters. It looked like something out of a magazine. Suburban paradise. Zoe slung her canvass duffel bag over her shoulder as she exited the car. It's amazing how light the bag was considering it held everything she owned. Except for one thing, her purple fuzzy monkey amigo Roger, who was tucked under her left arm. As she approached the house via the concrete walkway she clutched him so tight that if he were alive he surely would have suffocated by now. Step by step, slowly she came to the navy blue front door. She stood there, directly across from it and just stared. Everything looked so perfect to Zoe. The shutters and door matched to the exact perfect hue. The driveway was absent of a single crack or blemish. The grass was green, the sky blue, and in the distance she could hear the chirping of birds. Zoe had been living a nightmare and now she stood in what seemed to be a dream. She was snapped to reality as Gabrielle rushed by her, bumping her shoulder hard and sending her sprawling forward. Zoe was just able to catch her footing and not meet the concrete front step face first. "Why don't you and your stupid ape watch out," her step sister said with anger. Zoe collected herself and looked Gabrielle up and down. So many violent thoughts bounced around her head. Thoughts of pulling that perfect blond hair out of her skull were the most prominent. For even just a moment Zoe had taken a break from that dark personal realm of hate. But like an old friend, it had returned. With that feeling brewing within her she entered the house. Able to control those temptations to inflict pain and torture upon her step sister she closed the front door behind her already so cynical and doubtful that this new life could be any better than the last. Zoe Parker Ch. 02 Ch. 2 - The Addiction The large rain drops splashed off of the top of the deep brown casket. The irony of a rainy day funeral was lost on Zoe Parker as she stared at the wooden box that held her deceased mother. Zoe observed the twenty or so people who decided to attend the burial ceremony. The small crowd creating a semi circle around the casket consisted of mostly people from her neighborhood smattered with a few of her mother's old friends. All of them had known Sandra Parker during the better years of her life. All of them seemed to have abandoned her over the past three years as she slipped deeper and deeper into her own personal void. "Hypocrites," Zoe thought to herself. She could feel the bitterness and contentment building within her. The only emotion she had felt since she had finally left laying next to her just perished mother was hate. Being around this gathering of people was doing nothing to reverse that. That feeling dwelled within her now as she looked over the people who disregarded her mother when she needed them the most. Those people who did not find a need to attempt to rescue her mother from the vices that ruined her life. They did show up however when those demons finally took it. Hate is a powerful thing and Zoe felt nothing but that for these people. The seed had been planted six days before when she finally left her mother's side after being there for two hours and travelled next door to inform her neighbor. That seed was slowly watered as the police came to her home, roped off the house, and drew the attention of the entire block. They all gawked and stared. They passed their judgments and make their demeaning remarks. They were there to see her body wheeled out covered by a thin white sheet. None of them cared when she was alive, when she needed them the most. But they all stood at the pew of righteousness feeling better about who they were as people because they weren't the ones suffering. "Damn them," Zoe had swore in her head. That seed of hate so quickly became a sprout and over the next six days leading to the funeral it would grow rapidly. She hated her father, Robert Parker, who couldn't make the trip the day he got the call, forcing her to stay with the neighbors she barely knew and who obviously felt so inconvenienced by her being there. He hated her step mother, Victoria, and her daughter, Gabrielle, for coming along. Neither Zoe or her mother had ever met the two but somehow they pretended to care enough to attend the funeral. Having met them for the first time just eight hours earlier had given her time to hate other things about them. She hated Victoria's shallow, fake smile when she met someone. She hated Gabrielle's almost perfect blonde hair and beautiful features that donned too much makeup for her fifteen year old face. Gabrielle was only two years older than Zoe but with her overdone cosmetics and revealing, fashionable clothes she looked to be seventeen. Zoe, with her dark hair and humble looks, with her baggy sweatshirts and outdated jeans was the exact physical opposite. Right away Zoe hated Gabrielle for that. Hate's an interesting thing. As Zoe stood there among the funeral's attendance, in between her father and stepmother, all she could feel was hatred. It didn't matter that her dead mother was about to be lowered into the ground. Emotions can be drugs. For three years Zoe was a constant user of sadness. When her mother died sadness was no longer effective. She needed a hard drug. That drug was hate and she was addicted. * * * The drive to her father's house was unbearable. Gabrielle with her stylish pink cell phone that slid open three different directions sat next to Zoe and had been talking for three straight hours. If you could call that talking. Zoe had lost count of the amount of "OMG's" and "WTFs" sputtered by her bubbly step sister. It had also been a drive of empty one sided conversation with her step mother so far. "We are happy to have you live with us," Victoria commented to Zoe with so much fake sweetness it almost gave her a cavity. "I'm happy too, Zoe," said her father. The first words he had spoken directly to her since her funeral. "We had to rearrange Vicki's angel room and turn it into a bedroom for you but it was no big deal," her dad remarked kindly. "Not for you maybe but you try putting together a room for a teenage girl with such short notice. I didn't have time to pain. I didn't have time to pick out new drapes. I didn't have time to do ANY real decorating. Not to mention finding a suitable place for my babies," her stop mother shot at her father. Zoe muttered confused, "Babies?" "Victoria collects porcelain angels and had the whole room filled with them. It's ok though. You needed the room more," her dad informed her. Through the rearview mirror Zoe could see her stepmom roll her eyes at her dad's last sentence. Her dad continued, "It's not much. A dresser and a bed. A small night stand and a lamp. We'll work on making it more to how you want it as you get settled in. Maybe decorate it with those silly kittens you love." "I haven't been into kittens since I was eigh....." Zoe began to reply but was almost immediately interrupted by Victoria blurting out. "Kittens?! Robert, please. No girl in my house is going to decorate her room with kittens. I was already planning some really modern color patterns with......." Victoria trailed off as Zoe stopped listening. She could see her stepmother become exuberant talking about the interior design of her new room. Zoe didn't care so she drowned her out. The second three hours of the trip had been easier on Zoe. Victoria put on a thick cloth beauty mask and fell asleep. Gabrielle switched from talking on the phone to clicking away at its keyboard and listening to the white ear buds of her bright pink iPod. Her father drove silently as her listened to the low drones of a sports talk show on the radio. Zoe studied her father through the mirror. The past three years had changed him. He was tan and leaner. He seemed to have lost the goofy, carefree demeanor Zoe knew for so long growing up. It appeared to have been replaced with a heavy sense of seriousness and almost a detachment from everything and everyone around him. It was almost like he was drowning out the world. "I miss mom," Zoe blurted out. She didn't know why she said it. She didn't plan to say it. It just came out. Immediately as the words escaped her lips she felt dumb for saying it in this care, around these people. Then she heard another voice from the front of the care. "Me too," she heard her father say solemnly. Zoe looked at him through the rearview mirror. She saw his eyes filled with deep sadness. The kind of sadness you feel only after a horrible loss. Then she saw it, her father's eyes fill with tears as a couple dropped to his shirt. He quickly rubbed his eyes and reached to the radio turning the volume up. Maybe Zoe didn't hate him so much after all. * * * Zoe caught herself nodding off as they pulled down her father's road. Their road. The reality just hit her that this was now the street that her new home was on. Everything in her life was still in a constant state of change. So it was a bit surreal as the car passed through the middle class neighborhood, filled with clean white picket fences and neatly trimmed, perfectly clean lawns. They came to a stop in the nicely paved, light gray driveway. To the left of the car was a basketball hoop. In front was the white door to a two door garage. Attached to the garage was a beautiful 3 bedroom white house with navy blue shutters. It looked like something out of a magazine. Suburban paradise. Zoe slung her canvass duffel bag over her shoulder as she exited the car. It's amazing how light the bag was considering it held everything she owned. Except for one thing, her purple fuzzy monkey amigo Roger, who was tucked under her left arm. As she approached the house via the concrete walkway she clutched him so tight that if he were alive he surely would have suffocated by now. Step by step, slowly she came to the navy blue front door. She stood there, directly across from it and just stared. Everything looked so perfect to Zoe. The shutters and door matched to the exact perfect hue. The driveway was absent of a single crack or blemish. The grass was green, the sky blue, and in the distance she could hear the chirping of birds. Zoe had been living a nightmare and now she stood in what seemed to be a dream. She was snapped to reality as Gabrielle rushed by her, bumping her shoulder hard and sending her sprawling forward. Zoe was just able to catch her footing and not meet the concrete front step face first. "Why don't you and your stupid ape watch out," her step sister said with bitterness. Zoe collected herself and looked Gabrielle up and down. So many violent thoughts bounced around her head. Thoughts of pulling that perfect blond hair out of her skull were the most prominent. For even just a moment Zoe had taken a break from that dark personal realm of hate. But like an old friend, it had returned. With that feeling brewing within her she entered the house. Able to control those temptations to inflict pain and torture upon her step sister she closed the front door behind her already so cynical and doubtful that this new life could be any better than the last. Zoe Parker Ch. 03 If staring at a wall was an Olympic sport, Zoe would be a gold medalist. She lay in her new room, the former den of porcelain angels, and stared at the beige wall. It had been four hours since she slung her canvass duffle bag onto the foot of her new bed and proceeded to lay down, clutching Roger and fixating her eyes on nothing but the wall. The room was average size but being adorned with only a twin size bed, a small night stand which held a smaller lamp and a crème white dresser, it felt huge. Huge and empty. "Empty like me," Zoe thought to herself entering the room those long four hours ago. Since then she had laid, unmoving on top of a quilt. It was one of those quilts you get at a designer home supply store that people pay way too much for because they think it looks genuinely homemade. Zoe was immediately reminded of Victoria with how fake and corny it looked. Like her it tried way too hard to be something it wasn't in an attempt to impress everyone. Zoe did have something to be thankful about. In those previous four hours she was not bothered a single time. Not one time did someone stop in to see how she was doing, to ask if she needed anything or just to check in. For this, Zoe was grateful. She didn't want to see anyone, talk to anyone, or be around anyone. Especially the people in this house. While her father wasn't horrible, he just reminded Zoe too much of her lost mother and how much life had changed in three short years. The layout of the house actually complimented Zoe's solitary desires. The front of the house held the living room, dining room and the kitchen. On the right of the house were the bedrooms of her father and Victoria and Gabrielle. To the left of the house was a large bathroom, the laundry room and then Zoe's room. Lying in her bed she was at all times at least fifty feet away from everyone. Mathematical blueprint equations like this are what kept Zoe's mind busy as she gazed at the wall. A knocking at her door popped Zoe's tranquility bubble. She was no longer alone. The voice of her father rang through her door, "Zoe can I come in?" "Maybe he'll go away if I don't say anything," Zoe's voice pondered in her head. "Zoe, are you ok? Look, I know you probably don't feel like doing a lot. Losing your mom was probably really devastating to you. I'm here for you, Zoe. We're going out to this nice Italian restaurant in town. They have some great lasagna. I wish you would come.....but I understand if you don't want to. The new house and everything is a lot to take in. Remember though Zoe, I know we haven't spoken much or seen each other much the past few years but you're still my little girl and I love you. I'm always he......" Her dad's heartfelt speech was shrewdly interrupted by the shrieking voice of Victoria. "ROBERT!!!! LET'S GO OR WE'RE GOING TO MISS OUR RESERVATION!" the magnitude and tone of Victoria's cry made Zoe wince in her bed. Zoe could faintly hear her father's hand fall to the handle of her door. At that moment a significant part of her wished he would open the door, come inside and hug her. That part of her yearned to have her father hold her close, like when she was little, and make her feel like everything was going to be alright. But then the bitterness of reality came calling, or rather yelling. "ROBERT YOU GET OUT HERE NOW OR WE'RE LEAVING WITHOUT YOU!" Victoria hollered with such sharp poison. Zoe could hear the door handle jiggle just a tiny bit as she realized her father's hand had fallen away and he was now retreating to Victoria at the front of the house. In that moment the portion of Zoe that ached for her father's love began to wither away. And as she heard the front door close and the car drive off leaving her alone in the house, it all but died. * * * The sunlight pierced through the white shades of her bedroom window and felt warm on Zoe's skin. She groggily raised her head off her pillow and realized that she had fallen asleep. Glancing at the clock on her nightstand she noticed that it had only been an hour since her father stood behind her door. Bored, curious, and well aware that she had the house to herself for at least another hour, Zoe decided to venture from her room. As she opened her door and stepped out in the hallway she immediately noticed the amount of pictures on the hallway walls. These were high class portraits of Victoria, Gabrielle, Victoria and Gabrielle and a rare occasional one with her father. They all had the same trendy look as everything else in the house. Zoe found herself admiring a particular one of Gabrielle. "She's so beautiful. She looks like a supermodel," Zoe thought to herself as she looked over the close up on Gabrielle with her face in her hands. The focus of Zoe's eyes shift and she could now see the reflection of herself against the glass of the picture frame. She examined her average green eyes that she thought were too big and round. She frowned at her shoulder length, unkempt brown hair and the round cheeks that she thought resembled a chipmunk. With the immediate comparison to Gabrielle's high cheek bones and feline exotic looking blue eyes Zoe felt like a potato next to a rose. Just down the hall she could see the entrance to Gabrielle's room. Zoe moved swiftly down the hallway and stood in front of the door. Contemplating whether or not to go in lasted two second as she quickly turned the handle and gently pushed the door open. Without stepping through the threshold Zoe could examine the entire room. Gabrielle's bedroom resembled a stylish New York City studio apartment. Her bed was positioned at an angle five feet from the back corner. Built into the opposite far corner was a mahogany computer desk. It was adorned with a pink laptop, stacks of notebooks, pens, and folders. The entire room was colored in deep browns and light pinks. One thing in particular caught Zoe's eye. To the left of the door, between two tall windows with light pink curtain, stood one of the most stunning sights she'd ever seen. Her eyes were now transfixed on a gorgeous ivory vanity. A row of three drawers was the base with shorter row on top of that. There was a grand, oval mirror fixed to the top and the glass was outlined with beautiful floral etchings. The entire vanity sat on four legs that were sculpted top to bottom into wooden roses. Without thinking Zoe took slow steps into Gabrielle's room. Her eyes spellbound by the luxurious piece of furniture as she slowly approached the vanity. Zoe, with the movement of someone approaching a previously undiscovered treasure, reached out and let her fingers grace the ivory bench standing in front. It was smooth marble with a plush light pink velvet pad to sit on. Zoe's hand crept from the bench to one of the pearl handles of the bottom drawers. With great caution she slid the drawer open a few inches. Her fingers danced inside and pulled out a tube of lipstick. She admired the gold base and the cosmetic's deep red color. She turned it over and on the bottom of the base she read "Crimson Fantasy." Through the empty hall of the house she could hear the closing of car doors in the driveway. Zoe felt panic rush through her as she scrambled to gain her senses. She quickly pushed the open drawer shut and made her way to the door of Gabrielle's bedroom. As she crossed under the door frame a wave of alarm crashed over her as she realized the tube of lipstick was still in her hand. Before she could turn around to return it she heard the knob of the front door turn. Not wanting to get caught snooping in her step sister's room she reached for the door, closed it quickly but silently and bolted down the hall for her room. He ever so quietly shut her own door and resumed her place lying in her bed. She shut her eyes to feign sleeping as she could hear the three new members of her family enter the residence. Zoe could feel the percussion of her beating heart against her chest as she lay there. She hoped that no one saw her outside her room and more importantly, anywhere near Gabrielle's room. Each second felt like an hour as the minutes slowly passed. With no sudden intrusion Zoe began to feel relief. That was quickly squashed by a soft but sharp knock at the door. Thinking it wise to still fake taking a nap she did not answer. But before a second knock ever came the door knob turned and Zoe could hear someone enter the room. Through the utter silence she could hear the door close softly and someone approach her bedside. Keeping her eyes shut and attempting to keep her heart rate from beating like a hummingbird she felt the shift of weight as someone sit next to her on the bed. "Zoe, I know you're not sleeping. Open your eyes. I want to speak to you about what I just saw when we came in the house," Victoria's voice rang through the room and was the missile that sunk Zoe's heart. One eye after the other Zoe slowly opened each and rolled to her back. She pulled herself up on the bed and tucked her knees into her chest. Resting her chin on her knees, she hugged her legs and tried not to make eye contact with her stop mother. "I saw you coming out of Gabrielle's room. I want to know why you were in there," Victoria questioned. A thousand excuses raced through Zoe's mind, each one sounded more and more outrageous than the next. Zoe was suddenly overcome with hopelessness and despair. She pondered that maybe if she was honest with her stop mother, maybe, just maybe, this woman could understand her and even just attempt to aid her. "I was curious and wanted to look around the house," Zoe barely got out from her quivering lips. "I saw Gabrielle's room first and it was amazing. Everything is so beautiful. She is so beautiful. Then I saw the vanity and it made me wonder. Maybe I could find out what makes her so beautiful." The side of Victoria's mouth curled up in a slight smile. Her eyes showed pity onto Zoe. "Zoe, I understand. Gabrielle is a gorgeous girl. She's my perfect little angel. She looks like a movie star. She is perfect. I can understand you wanting to be like her, to look like her. But baby, women use makeup to highlight their features. And I'm sorry but you just don't really have anything worth doing that to. No matter how long you sat in front of that mirror and no matter how much makeup you put on, you're still going to look like you. And you should be proud of that. Lots of beautiful girls wish they could look more natural," Victoria said dripping with a passive aggressive backhanded insulting tone. "Plus, pretty girls don't ever have to work for anything in life. They get the world laid at their feet. You won't have to deal with that. You'll be able to really develop your own little personality." Zoe looked down at her knees as the words of her step mother hit her heart like a sledgehammer. It took everything she had not to let the tears flow from her torn soul. Victoria stood up from the bed and headed to the door. She stood in the doorway with the door in her hands ready to close it. She peeked her head back in and looked at Zoe. "And I know you've been through a lot but I wanted to warn you that your father is going to be really busy. Not only is he doing a lot of overtime at work but Gabrielle needs him with her solo for the school musical she's going to be in and I need him there for me to deal with the hurt and pain of having to put my babies in a box in our closet. So I hope you understand that he's just not going to have a whole lot of time for you for awhile. After all, you came into our family," Victoria said with massive amounts of harsh resentment. As Victoria closed the door behind her Zoe's emotions were not conquered by the drug known as hate. Deep in her heart she felt abandonment and loneliness. Her mother, the only person who truly loved her, had given her life to drugs. And now the one place she might be able to call home, the one place she might find hope, love, and a new beginning didn't want her. It was that moment Zoe felt like a single star perched in a night sky filled with nothing but darkness. It was that moment that Zoe felt like the only answer was to escape the pain, to let the darkness extinguish her starlight and to take her own life. Zoe Parker Ch. 03 Chapter 3 - The Beauty If staring at a wall was an Olympic sport, Zoe would be a gold medalist. She lay in her new room, the former den of porcelain angels, and stared at the beige wall. It had been four hours since she slung her canvass duffle bag onto the foot of her new bed and proceeded to lay down, clutching Roger and fixating her eyes on nothing but the wall. The room was average size but being adorned with only a twin size bed, a small night stand which held a smaller lamp and a crème white dresser, it felt huge. Huge and empty. "Empty like me," Zoe thought to herself entering the room those long four hours ago. Since then she had laid, unmoving on top of a quilt. It was one of those quilts you get at a designer home supply store that people pay way too much for because they think it looks genuinely homemade. Zoe was immediately reminded of Victoria with how fake and corny it looked. Like her it tried way too hard to be something it wasn't in an attempt to impress everyone. Zoe did have something to be thankful about. In those previous four hours she was not bothered a single time. Not one time did someone stop in to see how she was doing, to ask if she needed anything or just to check in. For this, Zoe was grateful. She didn't want to see anyone, talk to anyone, or be around anyone. Especially the people in this house. While her father wasn't horrible, he just reminded Zoe too much of her lost mother and how much life had changed in three short years. The layout of the house actually complimented Zoe's solitary desires. The front of the house held the living room, dining room and the kitchen. On the right of the house were the bedrooms of her father and Victoria and Gabrielle. To the left of the house was a large bathroom, the laundry room and then Zoe's room. Lying in her bed she was at all times at least fifty feet away from everyone. Mathematical blueprint equations like this are what kept Zoe's mind busy as she gazed at the wall. A knocking at her door popped Zoe's tranquility bubble. She was no longer alone. The voice of her father rang through her door, "Zoe can I come in?" "Maybe he'll go away if I don't say anything," Zoe's voice pondered in her head. "Zoe, are you ok? Look, I know you probably don't feel like doing a lot. Losing your mom was probably really devastating to you. I'm here for you, Zoe. We're going out to this nice Italian restaurant in town. They have some great lasagna. I wish you would come.....but I understand if you don't want to. The new house and everything is a lot to take in. Remember though Zoe, I know we haven't spoken much or seen each other much the past few years but you're still my little girl and I love you. I'm always he......" Her dad's heartfelt speech was shrewdly interrupted by the shrieking voice of Victoria. "ROBERT!!!! LET'S GO OR WE'RE GOING TO MISS OUR RESERVATION!" the magnitude and tone of Victoria's cry made Zoe wince in her bed. Zoe could faintly hear her father's hand fall to the handle of her door. At that moment a significant part of her wished he would open the door, come inside and hug her. That part of her yearned to have her father hold her close, like when she was little, and make her feel like everything was going to be alright. But then the bitterness of reality came calling, or rather yelling. "ROBERT YOU GET OUT HERE NOW OR WE'RE LEAVING WITHOUT YOU!" Victoria hollered with such sharp poison. Zoe could hear the door handle jiggle just a tiny bit as she realized her father's hand had fallen away and he was now retreating to Victoria at the front of the house. In that moment the portion of Zoe that ached for her father's love began to wither away. And as she heard the front door close and the car drive off leaving her alone in the house, it all but died. * * * The sunlight pierced through the white shades of her bedroom window and felt warm on Zoe's skin. She groggily raised her head off her pillow and realized that she had fallen asleep. Glancing at the clock on her nightstand she noticed that it had only been an hour since her father stood behind her door. Bored, curious, and well aware that she had the house to herself for at least another hour, Zoe decided to venture from her room. As she opened her door and stepped out in the hallway she immediately noticed the amount of pictures on the hallway walls. These were high class portraits of Victoria, Gabrielle, Victoria and Gabrielle and a rare occasional one with her father. They all had the same trendy look as everything else in the house. Zoe found herself admiring a particular one of Gabrielle. "She's so beautiful. She looks like a supermodel," Zoe thought to herself as she looked over the close up on Gabrielle with her face in her hands. The focus of Zoe's eyes shift and she could now see the reflection of herself against the glass of the picture frame. She examined her average green eyes that she thought were too big and round. She frowned at her shoulder length, unkempt brown hair and the round cheeks that she thought resembled a chipmunk. With the immediate comparison to Gabrielle's high cheek bones and feline exotic looking blue eyes Zoe felt like a potato next to a rose. Just down the hall she could see the entrance to Gabrielle's room. Zoe moved swiftly down the hallway and stood in front of the door. Contemplating whether or not to go in lasted two second as she quickly turned the handle and gently pushed the door open. Without stepping through the threshold Zoe could examine the entire room. Gabrielle's bedroom resembled a stylish New York City studio apartment. Her bed was positioned at an angle five feet from the back corner. Built into the opposite far corner was a mahogany computer desk. It was adorned with a pink laptop, stacks of notebooks, pens, and folders. The entire room was colored in deep browns and light pinks. One thing in particular caught Zoe's eye. To the left of the door, between two tall windows with light pink curtain, stood one of the most stunning sights she'd ever seen. Her eyes were now transfixed on a gorgeous ivory vanity. A row of three drawers was the base with shorter row on top of that. There was a grand, oval mirror fixed to the top and the glass was outlined with beautiful floral etchings. The entire vanity sat on four legs that were sculpted top to bottom into wooden roses. Without thinking Zoe took slow steps into Gabrielle's room. Her eyes spellbound by the luxurious piece of furniture as she slowly approached the vanity. Zoe, with the movement of someone approaching a previously undiscovered treasure, reached out and let her fingers grace the ivory bench standing in front. It was smooth marble with a plush light pink velvet pad to sit on. Zoe's hand crept from the bench to one of the pearl handles of the bottom drawers. With great caution she slid the drawer open a few inches. Her fingers danced inside and pulled out a tube of lipstick. She admired the gold base and the cosmetic's deep red color. She turned it over and on the bottom of the base she read "Crimson Fantasy." Through the empty hall of the house she could hear the closing of car doors in the driveway. Zoe felt panic rush through her as she scrambled to gain her senses. She quickly pushed the open drawer shut and made her way to the door of Gabrielle's bedroom. As she crossed under the door frame a wave of alarm crashed over her as she realized the tube of lipstick was still in her hand. Before she could turn around to return it she heard the knob of the front door turn. Not wanting to get caught snooping in her step sister's room she reached for the door, closed it quickly but silently and bolted down the hall for her room. He ever so quietly shut her own door and resumed her place lying in her bed. She shut her eyes to feign sleeping as she could hear the three new members of her family enter the residence. Zoe could feel the percussion of her beating heart against her chest as she lay there. She hoped that no one saw her outside her room and more importantly, anywhere near Gabrielle's room. Each second felt like an hour as the minutes slowly passed. With no sudden intrusion Zoe began to feel relief. That was quickly squashed by a soft but sharp knock at the door. Thinking it wise to still fake taking a nap she did not answer. But before a second knock ever came the door knob turned and Zoe could hear someone enter the room. Through the utter silence she could hear the door close softly and someone approach her bedside. Keeping her eyes shut and attempting to keep her heart rate from beating like a hummingbird she felt the shift of weight as someone sit next to her on the bed. "Zoe, I know you're not sleeping. Open your eyes. I want to speak to you about what I just saw when we came in the house," Victoria's voice rang through the room and was the missile that sunk Zoe's heart. One eye after the other Zoe slowly opened each and rolled to her back. She pulled herself up on the bed and tucked her knees into her chest. Resting her chin on her knees, she hugged her legs and tried not to make eye contact with her stop mother. "I saw you coming out of Gabrielle's room. I want to know why you were in there," Victoria questioned. A thousand excuses raced through Zoe's mind, each one sounded more and more outrageous than the next. Zoe was suddenly overcome with hopelessness and despair. She pondered that maybe if she was honest with her stop mother, maybe, just maybe, this woman could understand her and even just attempt to aid her. "I was curious and wanted to look around the house," Zoe barely got out from her quivering lips. "I saw Gabrielle's room first and it was amazing. Everything is so beautiful. She is so beautiful. Then I saw the vanity and it made me wonder. Maybe I could find out what makes her so beautiful." The side of Victoria's mouth curled up in a slight smile. Her eyes showed pity onto Zoe. "Zoe, I understand. Gabrielle is a gorgeous girl. She's my perfect little angel. She looks like a movie star. She is perfect. I can understand you wanting to be like her, to look like her. But baby, women use makeup to highlight their features. And I'm sorry but you just don't really have anything worth doing that to. No matter how long you sat in front of that mirror and no matter how much makeup you put on, you're still going to look like you. And you should be proud of that. Lots of beautiful girls wish they could look more natural," Victoria said dripping with a passive aggressive backhanded insulting tone. "Plus, pretty girls don't ever have to work for anything in life. They get the world laid at their feet. You won't have to deal with that. You'll be able to really develop your own little personality." Zoe looked down at her knees as the words of her step mother hit her heart like a sledgehammer. It took everything she had not to let the tears flow from her torn soul. Victoria stood up from the bed and headed to the door. She stood in the doorway with the door in her hands ready to close it. She peeked her head back in and looked at Zoe. "And I know you've been through a lot but I wanted to warn you that your father is going to be really busy. Not only is he doing a lot of overtime at work but Gabrielle needs him with her solo for the school musical she's going to be in and I need him there for me to deal with the hurt and pain of having to put my babies in a box in our closet. So I hope you understand that he's just not going to have a whole lot of time for you for awhile. After all, you came into our family," Victoria said with massive amounts of harsh resentment. As Victoria closed the door behind her Zoe's emotions were not conquered by the drug known as hate. Deep in her heart she felt abandonment and loneliness. Her mother, the only person who truly loved her, had given her life to drugs. And now the one place she might be able to call home, the one place she might find hope, love, and a new beginning didn't want her. It was that moment Zoe felt like a single star perched in a night sky filled with nothing but darkness. It was that moment that Zoe felt like the only answer was to escape the pain, to let the darkness extinguish her starlight and to take her own life. Zoe Parker Ch. 04 Ch. 4 - The Broken The quilt lay underneath Zoe undisturbed. It had been four hours since her step mother came into her room and said the words that cut through Zoe like a knife. It had been four hours since Zoe had first contemplated taking her own life as a solution for her tragic problems. It had been four hours for her to lie there, staring at the wall, holding Roger ever so tight and go back and forth on the decision to do it. It was now two o'clock in the morning. The red numbers on the alarm clock next to her bed pierced the darkness. Zoe hadn't had much of an appetite in the previous week but now she was finding her stomach growling like a caged tiger. Mulling over the consequences of the last journey from her room, Zoe decided the chances of everyone being sound asleep were good enough to venture forth to the kitchen. Once in the hallway Zoe tip toed towards the kitchen with Roger in tow. She emerged from the end of the hallway, took a right and was at the opening of the kitchen within ten steps. Luckily for Zoe the multiple expensive appliances offered enough luminance through the dark for her to manage a path to the marble tile floor. The ground felt cold on her bare feet as she crossed from the carpet of the hall to the kitchen. Her hand traced over the long matching marble counter as she found her way to the double door refrigerator fixed against the back wall. Like all of the other appliances around her it was gleaming stainless steel. Zoe reached for a handle on the front of the refrigerator but found nothing to grasp. Squinting her eyes and looking closer she found that except for a pencil thin line separating the two doors, the surface was totally flat. Stumped and still hungry Zoe made her way back to the long counter where she thought she had seen a basket of fruit. She found it there in the center of the marble, a perfect hand woven basket holding a variety of fruit. Zoe's stomach grumbled when she saw what appeared to be a juicy red apple. Zoe snatched it quickly in her hands and found it to be slick and odd. She looked closer and realized that the apple was wax and out of the top hung a small wick. Zoe frowned and set the apple imposter back in its home. Disappointed she decided to give up on her quest to relieve her hunger. Just as she was about to turn out of the kitchen she heard footsteps coming down the hallway. After her last experience from exploring the house she found herself stricken with fear and anxiety. She feared the passive, bitter sweet wrath of her step mother. But before she could move there now stood a shadowy figure at the end of the hallway and was taking its steps towards the kitchen. Out of pure instinct Zoe found herself shutting her eyes and cowering. "Zoe? Is that you?" It was the voice of her father that rang through the darkness calling out to her. Zoe found herself slowly releasing from her tight ball of protection. "Yea, it's me dad," she responded back to him. While the largest portion of her fear had subsided she found herself still a bit weary of letting herself feel totally comfortable. "What are you doing up at this hour?" Her dad's voice sounded weary and tired but also expressed concern. "I don't know.....I'm hungry I guess. I was trying to find something to eat but the refrigerator handle is broke, I think." Zoe offered her explanation. Zoe could hear her dad chuckle under his breath. He walked past her, wearing his navy blue flannel pajama pants and crisp white cotton t-shirt, and stopped in front of the fridge. He motioned her over with a small hand gesture. Zoe obeyed and walked over, standing next to her father. He pointed to the bottom of what appeared to be the right door of the steel obelisk. He placed his finger three inches to the left of the pinstripe line and pressed. The door released from its grasp and exhaled a deep breath of cold air. A small awe of the obviously expensive technology was felt by Zoe but was soon replaced with a wonder why her dad needed the Jetson's refrigerator. It, like everything in the house, seemed to all be put together for the simple purpose to impress others. Not to be practical but to be the talk of those who saw it. Zoe, who had spent the last couple years shopping for her and her mother and microwaving most of her dinners found herself just not feeling the need for all the hoopla. While Zoe pondered what other domestic devices had secret hidden entry methods her father had removed a glass bottle of milk and a plate of cookie bars. He then placed his hand gently on Zoe's back and guided her around to the other side of the countertop. There she found a row of wooden stools with puffy black cushions. Her dad pulled out one and let her sit first. Then he found his own sitting next to her. The hunger pains grew sharply as he pulled the plate of cookie bars in front of them. The graham cracker base was covered by a swirl of chocolate. Zoe's mouth watered as she reached for her first one. For the next five minutes the two sat in silence. Swallowing her second rich cookie bar Zoe's stomach while now satisfied was telling her just how good some cold milk would be. After a quick scan of the counter she turned to her dad. "We need glasses" she noted. "No. No glasses," he said rather bluntly. "This is my time. I come out here once a week. I get to be alone. I get to drink from the bottle. I get to be by myself." Zoe suddenly found herself assuming that her father was giving her a hint. She mumbled what was an attempt at a quick apology and started to get up from her stool. "I wasn't telling you to leave, kiddo. My time is now our time. It gives me a chance to share some cookies and milk with the daughter I haven't seen nearly enough of lately," He told her warmly. Her father grabbed the large bottle of milk, his hand wrapping around the neck and he brought it to his lips. With a bend of the wrist he swallowed three large gulps. The bottle was then returned to the counter as he let out a soft belch. Zoe giggled a tiny bit as she looked up at her dad and saw a long white milk mustache above his upper lips. "What?" He questioned feigning confusion and returning a big warm smile. Then he slid the bottle over to Zoe and nodded for her to take her own drink. Zoe placed her small hand on the neck of the bottle, her fingers barely wrapping halfway around. Her other hand found the bottom in order to lift it to her lips. She tilted the glass container and took a large chug of milk. The bottle once again found the table as Zoe's small body let out a high pitched pip of a burp. Her father looked over at her and gave a hearty chuckle as he saw a massive matching milk mustache dripping from her lips. * * * The morning sun penetrated through the windows in Zoe's room. It was now Sunday, eight hours after her late night dessert snack with her dad, and for the first time in a long time Zoe awoke with a feeling of hope. While that feeling was still very small it was doing a good job of distracting her from the dark emotions that overwhelmed her daily. Rolling out of bed Zoe scanned her bedroom floor and found the same denim blue jeans she had worn the day before. With only a few pairs of pants Zoe often had no other choice but then to wear the same pants two or three days in a row. Today was no different. As she lifted the worn fabric from the ground something fell out of her pocket and bounced off the carpet. Reaching down, picking it up and examining it Zoe found herself looking at the lipstick from Gabrielle's room. "I have to give it back," Zoe uttered groaning to herself out loud. Her head hung low as she held the cosmetic tube tightly in her palm. She realized there was no way she could make this journey alone. Quickly she snatched Roger up in her left arm and seized him to her side. She turned and made the slow journey from her room out into the hallway. As Zoe walked she imagined Gabrielle's response in her head. At worst Zoe predicted that her step sister would take the makeup back and command her to get out of her room. At best Zoe envisioned Gabrielle appreciating her honesty and welcoming her to use her makeup and extraordinary vanity anytime she wanted. Realistically Zoe knew that it was more likely to fall closer to the worst side. The pounding of her heart felt like a jackhammer inside Zoe's chest as she reached her step sister's door. Making a loose fist she brought her hand up, flicked her wrist and using her knuckles tapped lightly on the door. The soft beat was followed by no reply so Zoe used a little more force this time increasing the volume of her knock. "Come in," came the voice of Gabrielle through the door. Zoe, moving with the caution of a gazelle entering the den of a lioness, ever so slowly turned the handle and creaked the door open. The door crept open and Zoe could see her Gabrielle sitting on the bench in front of the vanity, looking into the mirror and brushing her perfect straight blonde hair. The two step sisters made eye contact through the mirror. Gabrielle spoke first, "What do YOU want?" The nerves inside Zoe's stomach wound even tighter hearing the sharp tone of Gabrielle's voice. She knew this wasn't going to be easy. Regardless, she took a few steps into the room. Unsure of what to say and unclear if she would even have the clarity to form the words Zoe simply extended her arm out towards Gabrielle. "I didn't mean to...." Was all she could muster as her fingers lethargically crept off the tube of lipstick and revealed it in the palm of her hand. With her head bowed in shame Zoe could still see her step sister through the mirror. As soon as Gabrielle's gaze came to the item in Zoe hands her eyes widened in shock and then quickly squinted in fury. "You STOLE my makeup!?" Gabrielle accused Zoe as she shot up from the bench and turned to face Zoe. "I was just looking at it and then...." Zoe's soft, almost whisper like explanation was quickly cut out by Gabrielle's harsh words. "You were in MY room!? And you took MY makeup!? You ugly little brat! Just because you look like a troll doesn't mean MY makeup will fix that. You'll NEVER look like me. You'll NEVER be me. You're not even supposed to be here. You're not even a member of this family. You're father never loved you enough to see you and you're only here because he felt sorry for you. You pathetic little loser. How would you like it if I took something of YOURS!?" Gabrielle's words hit Zoe's soul like poison arrows shot from point blank range. Zoe winced at each one, not feeling anger in return but instead she found herself feeling shame and emptiness. Gabrielle wasn't finished. "Not that you have anything worth taking. Even your stupid little monkey is ugly. How would you like it if I took that? It might do you some good to grow up and not be such a baby carrying it around all the time." With Gabrielle's last words she reached out, grabbed the dangling arm of Roger and pulled sharply. Zoe was caught off guard but came to her senses enough to catch the end of Roger's leg and initiate an immediate case of tug o war over her purple, fluffy primate. "Stop. You'll hurt him." Zoe pleaded with her step sister. "Hurt him?! What are you? 6? He's fake." Gabrielle shot back. "Please. Stop. I'll never come in here again. Just let Roger go." Zoe begged this time with her step sister, trying to secure her stuffed monkey and find solace in her own room. "You bet your butt you'll never come in here again! And this monkey is MINE now!" Gabrielle gave a heavy pull so strong it pulled Zoe forward two steps. "LET GO!" Zoe shouted loud, in both anger and desperation as it was her turn to give Roger a mighty tug. Except when Zoe pulled Gabrielle didn't come forward like she had. Instead there was a loud rip sound that pierced the air. The tension on Roger's leg was gone as his body fell back to Zoe's possession. It was missing an arm. Zoe looked up and what happened before her took place in slow motion. It was almost like time slowed down as she watched Gabrielle lose her balance after Roger's arm ripped off in her hand. Gabrielle stumbled backwards, flailing, unable to catch herself, but it was too late. Zoe watched in shock as Gabrielle fell back into the vanity, sending it crashing to the ground and falling on top of it. The glass of the mirror shattered and Gabrielle fell in a heap on top of it. Before either girl could move there were two loud heavy set of feet running down the hall way. First to appear in the door way was Zoe's father. He stared in awe of the sight before him. Second to arrive was Victoria, Zoe's step mom, who upon seeing her baby girl lying on top of the broken vanity mirror let out a shriek of terror and horror. She shoved her husband aside and ran to her daughter. "Zoe, what did you do?" were the first words to come out of her father's mouth. Before Zoe could mutter an answer Victoria interjected. "I'll tell you what she did, Robert. She came in here to ask Gabrielle if she could use her makeup. When Gabrielle said no Zoe got so jealous and angry that she shoved poor Gabi right into the vanity. The vanity, by the way, that was one of a kind and will take me forever to replace." Victoria's baseless accusations came forth so freely. She had turned again to her daughter who was now sitting up. Gabrielle appeared to be fine save for her now messy hair and a two inch superficial cut on her left cheek. It was a cut so shallow that while it was red it couldn't produce a single drop of blood. "And look at my poor baby! That's going to scar! I know it! I know it! Robert we have to take her to the emergency room. She may have internal injuries. I'm going to get her into the car. You take care of.....that girl," Victoria seemingly refusing to refer to Zoe as Robert's daughter. Victoria helped Gabrielle to her feet and putting her daughter's arm over her own shoulder, helped her out of the room. As they passed by Zoe, Victoria shot her a look of anger and bitterness. Once they were out of their room Zoe's father turned and faced her. "Zoe, is what Victoria said true?" Robert asked her softly and solemnly. Shaken by the events of the last fifteen minutes Zoe struggled to find words. She became aware that it may appear she was trying to think of an excuse so she just babbling whatever she could get out. "Dad...I just..I didn't......" She was quickly interrupted. "Don't lie to me Zoe. Please. Do not lie to me," Her dad immediately accused and commanded at the same time. "But....but....I'm not lying," Zoe stammered pitifully. Zoe could see both growing anger and disappointment in her father's eyes. "Zoe, I want you to go to your room and stay there the rest of the night. I'm going to take Vicki and Gabi to the ER. Do NOT come out. And tomorrow is your first day of school and you ARE going. I don't want to hear anything else about it. . I'm so disappointed in you. I really thought this could work Zoe. I really did. But now I'm starting to wonder maybe you'd be better off somewhere else." her dad trailed off in such a disheartened tone that it almost brought tears to Zoe's eyes. If she wasn't already so empty inside it would have. Slowly she walked past her father and turned down the hallway. She stopped just inside her door and looked once more back down the hallway. Her father stood with his head bowed under Gabrielle's door frame. "Dad......" Zoe attempted to communicate one last time. "Just go to your room, Zoe," her father spoke defeated. As he turned and walked to the front door, Zoe slowly closed her own door behind her. Crawling into bed she laid Roger next to her. Lying on her side she traced her finger over the giant rip where his monkey arm used to be. Now it was torn. Just like me, she thought to herself. Zoe wrapped him up in her arms and stared at the wall. She played back her recent memories in her head, starting with finding her mother dead in her own home. Slowly, darkness crept over Zoe's heart. Slowly, feelings of emptiness, abandonment and loneliness swept over her. As the images in her head reached the present she found her heart and soul drowning in a sea of numbness. Zoe finally was overcome. She finally reached her breaking point. The feelings inside her overcame her and she was convinced that she no longer had a place in this world. That the only person who truly ever loved her had died and that she wanted to follow her. As Zoe closed her eyes she had made up her mind. There was no turning back now. Tomorrow would be her last day on Earth. After school, she would return home and with everyone out of the house and all alone, she would take her own life. Zoe Parker Ch. 05 Chapter 5-The Countdown How one could wake up to the last day of their life and feel completely serene perplexed Zoe. She had been laying awake for the past half an hour watching her alarm clock. That alone was an interesting event to her. Each tick of the minute, each change of the digit, was a like a slow countdown to her final moment on Earth. Watching the slow expiration of her life be tallied away was a new experience. Then again, it wasn't quite staring at the wall. Zoe wanted to see as little of the three other people in her house as possible. It was going to be her last day alive and she didn't have any desires to deal with the cold stare of her step sister, the artificially sweet passive aggressive tone of her step mother or the complete indolence of her own father. She had heard them arrive home from the hospital just an hour after they had left last night. She had heard her step mother's shock and anger with the emergency room nurse who refused to admit her daughter over a superficial laceration. She had also heard her father's adamant refusal to schedule an appointment with a plastic surgeon over an injury not much larger than the average paper cut. So Zoe had arisen at five thirty that morning and took the quickest, quietest shower in her life. Quickly she had slipped on a plain, worn navy blue hooded sweatshirt and a faded pair of blue jeans that were two inches too long for her. Then she proceeded to do the time watching that took up her entire morning. It was now half past seven o'clock and Zoe, already politely turning down her father's mumbled offer to have some cereal, slung her canvass bag over her shoulder and headed to the front door of the house. As she slipped out of the front door she made sure to lock it behind her. Everyone had already left for their respective days' agenda. Her father was now at work, Gabrielle was at a morning musical practice and her step mother Victoria was presumably out shopping. Earlier that morning when her father made a flat effect offer of cereal he was also quick to mention that there would be a school bus in front of the house forty five minutes after seven o'clock. Zoe was lucky to have heard that as she made every attempt to drown each individual word that escaped his mouth. After travelling down the walkway Zoe found herself standing where it met the sidewalk in front of the house. As Zoe waited for her transportation to school she found her mind swirling around the different ways she could do the dark deed that afternoon after school. Before she could let her imagination go into too much detail she was snapped to attention by the hydraulic brakes of the large yellow metallic beast in front of her. With her head down and attempting to draw the least amount of attention possible she boarded the bus and found an empty seat halfway to the back. Trying not to make eye contact with anyone Zoe clutched her bag and kept her head lowered. Within her peripheral vision she could see a pair of black canvass high top Converses' with hot pink laces settled on the bus' floor across the aisle. That was enough for Zoe. She didn't dare to let her eyes drift up and draw the attention of whomever those feet belonged to. The ride to school quickly became a sudden place of suicidal meditation for Zoe. She let her eyes wander to the ground between her feet as her mind did a warp speed review of her life and the options she had to end it that afternoon. Just as she was about to settle on the route in which she would take to no longer exist she found herself feeling lifted up slightly in her seat. Being snapped to attention she realized her sudden change in personal elevation was from the plopping down of someone next to her on the large cushioned bench. With the sudden intrusion of the private space next to her Zoe found herself almost gawking at the person now sitting next to her. It started with the black shoes and hot pink laces that were once across the aisle but now were on the ground next to her own worn, white tennis shoes. Zoe's eyes travelling up found a pair of legs clad in black leggings, a red plaid knee high skirt, a white long sleeved dress shirt with a black corset vest and a long very loose knotted red neck tie hanging around a pale neck. Moving her view to the face of the intruder she found a girl who had a huge smile plastered across her face. Her big smile made her already round cheeks puff out even more over her cheek bones. Zoe's eyes then met the glittering, innocent looking eyes of the girl next to her. Zoe found that she was nervous and quickly dodged her eyes away and was now looking at the girl's head. On top of it was a black cadet hat with a big red cross on the front. Under the hat were long auburn curls of hair that fell a couple inches past her shoulders. "Hi! I'm Riley! What's your name? Sorry if I'm intruding. I don't mean to intrude. You looked kind of sad and I've never seen you before and you looked like you could use a friend. Not that I'm saying you don't have friends. Because how would I know. I know nothing about you. Not even your name. Which is why I just asked it, of course," the girl next to Zoe said to her in such a hyper, frantic tone Zoe almost had to hold her jaw from dropping. Zoe hesitated her response for a sheer moment and Riley jumped all over it with another energetic, boastful response, "I'm so so sorry if I scared you. I did didn't I? I knew it. I don't always talk like this. Just when I meet new people or when I get nervous. It's kind of like a tic or something. But now I'm sitting here, scaring the poop out of you talking like an over the top Saturday morning cartoon character hopped up on a truck load of pixie sticks or something. So so sooooooooo, what's your name?" "Uhhhhhh, Zoe. Zoe Parker," Zoe surprised herself by managing to let her name spill out as a response. "It's blessed to meet you Uhhhh Zoe, Zoe Parker," Riley said in a very joking tone that still made Zoe feel embarrassed. "I'm sorry. I was just joking. It is great to meet you. We're going to be best friends. I already know it." "Probably not," Zoe muttered while staring at the ground. "I knew it! I came off as this babbling monster and totally scared you. I don't blame you. I'm not the most normal person. That's probably why I don't have too many friends. I mean, I have some friends in my youth group but at school not really. Most people are nice and all but not friends, you know. No one there who like, really knows me. But if you don't want to be friends I understand," Riley's words implanting into Zoe's mind making her realize this was the most anyone had spoken to her since she could last remember. "No, it's not you. It's not like that. I just....I'm going to be moving soon. Real soon," Zoe found a way to try and brush her off without letting Riley know the real reason she wouldn't be around to be friends. "Really? Wow! I've never seen you before so that must mean you're new here. And now you're leaving. That's odd. Well, that means we have one day to become the bestest friends in the entire world. That way, when you leave, you HAVE to keep in touch with me," Riley said in such an optimistic, happy tone that she once again caught Zoe off guard. Zoe didn't know what to say. While the last thing she wanted to do was make friends with someone on her last day alive she wasn't mean enough to brush Riley off. And not that Riley seemed like the type who could be brushed off. Zoe decided that it probably wouldn't be the worst thing in the world to let someone sit next to her on the ride to school. That was as long as she could get her to stop talking. "I don't really feel like talking today," Zoe tried to be nice about getting Riley to not talk her ear off. Riley was very polite in her reply when she said, "That's ok, some of the best things are not even said," she then reached into the side of the backpack between her legs and pulled out a pink iPod. Without asking, Riley place one of the white plastic earbuds into Zoe's right ear. She slipped the other one into her own left ear, pulled her knees up into the back of the seat in front of her and slinked back relaxing. "I u...." Zoe started to object. "Shhhhhh! We're not talking," Riley was quick to remind her with a coy 'a matter of fact' tone. Zoe gave up her half hearted fight and let herself relax back into the seat also. The music playing into Zoe's inner ear canal was an alternative rock band she had never heard before. It was heavy on bass and drums and the little bit of lyrics Zoe did listen to didn't seem to fit the normal rock music mold. Just before leaning her head against the bus window Zoe glanced down at the face of the digital music player. She could make out the name of the band playing as it was listed on the small LCD screen. It read: Skillet * * * The school day went by being neither too eventful nor memorable for Zoe. Still planning to go through with her plans after school gave her no reason to take in the details of the school, whether it was the teachers, her locker combination or much of anything else. The things she did notice were few and far between such as, that the high school was average size and that half the boys and girls in her freshman classes resembled her step sister Gabrielle in their expensive brand name clothes, an obvious over prioritization of their looks and a snooty demeanor of self worth. Zoe did have four classes with Riley, the girl from the bus. Attempting to convince herself not to care, Zoe attempted to nicely ignore her throughout the day. Riley made that hard as she would playfully throw pieces of paper at Zoe just to get her attention so she could make goofy faces at her from across the classroom. She did this in every class they had together. It made it rather difficult for Zoe to concentrate on just how she was going to finish her mortal tenancy after school was out. As the last bell rang Zoe bolted as quickly as she could to the bus without drawing attention to herself. She planned to find a seat with someone else in order to avoid Riley. Boarding the bus Zoe groaned. She was the first one on. With her plan foiled Zoe found the same seat she occupied that morning. Somehow it didn't surprise her when the second person on the bus was Riley. It surprised her even less when Riley plopped down right next to her. Riley looked at Zoe, placed her two pinched fingers to the corner of her full lips and pulled them across like a zipper. She then turned an imaginary key which she then pretended to throw out of the open bus window next to them. Bowing her head Zoe tried to hide the smile she couldn't resist having after such a goofy display. The ride home was much like the ride to school. Riley once again placed the earbud in Zoe's ear and once again they listened to alternative rock music. Zoe could hear the instruments but with her mind slipping away, thinking about this being her last hour on Earth, she didn't focus on any lyrics. With a release of air the hydraulic bus brakes came to their first stop. With the bus not moving Riley reached into her backpack and pulled out a neon green gel pen and a small notebook. She quickly wrote something inside the notebook and then ripped out the paper that the fresh ink was on. Tosses the notebook back into her bag she then folded the paper in half and wrote something on the top of it. The bus had started back up again but after only travelling a few hundred feet came to the second stop. Riley quickly scrolled through her iPod, hit the pause button and pulled the earbud from Zoe's ear. Wrapping the tiny white headphones around the electronic device she placed it in Zoe's hand and curled her fingers around it. Then she grabbed Zoe's free hand and placed the note gently into her palm. "But....," Zoe was cut off by Riley's finger pressed against her lips. Riley shook her head, pointed to the note and with a quick motion grabbed her bag and stood from the seat. Zoe looked at the note in confusion and looked back up at Riley. There was no one there and the bus had started to move again. Zoe examined the top of the note that lay in her hand. Scribbled on it she saw "DON'T OPEN UNTIL YOU GET HOME!" Unsure of what to do Zoe slid both the note and the abandoned iPod into the front pocket of her hooded sweatshirt. Before she could think the bus came to its third stop. Looking up Zoe realized this was her exit. She collected her bag and with each step suddenly realized she was walking to her own death march. Soon she would flee the world that had brought her so much pain. Once off the bus she quickly made her way to the front door, unlocked it and bolted inside the house. Locking the door behind her she went straight to her room. She found her fuzzy purple monkey buddy Roger and gripped him close as she took a seat on the edge of the bed. Not wanting to scare herself out of it, Zoe decided right then she needed to get her dark deed over with. Without giving it much though she came to the conclusion that she needed to silence the suffering now and extinguish her own flame of existence. She reached down, grabbed the bottom of her hooded sweatshirt and pulled it off revealing her white tank top underneath. Knowing exactly how she would attempt to join her mother in death she arose from her seat on the bed. Then something caught her eye. The shiny pink iPod that had fallen out of her top lay on the ground next to her garment. She reached down and picked it up. Bent over she also noticed the corner of Riley's note sticking out of her pocket. She grabbed that also and returned to her seated position on the bed. Zoe placed the iPod on her lap as she opened the note. In pretty neon green gel pen was written, "Just press play and listen. Please listen. Really listen." Zoe figured she could give the one nice person in her life a last request. She placed the earbuds in her ears and let her thumb circle over the play button. After some hesitation she pressed play. An acoustic guitar's melody came through and entered her head. At first she just listened to the rhythm and then she remembered the note, so she listened. She really listened. Zoe let the words flow through her ear and into her skull. But they didn't stop there. The more she listened, the more they sunk into her. The more she listened the lower the words entered her. When the chorus came through the tiny speakers it was penetrating her heart, piercing into her soul. It was then that for the first time since her mother died Zoe Parker began to cry. Her tears poured from within her and she had no idea why. They were tears of sadness, hurt and grief. But as the song played on they became tears shed as release and relief. Zoe curled up on her bed, her knees buried in her chest as she wept. The tear drops flowed like rain as Zoe felt a great, heavy burden lifted from within her. The song came to an end and Zoe quickly pressed play again. She listened to it for a second time, this time crying harder and heavier. She heard every word that was sung. The chorus of the song seemed to play just for Zoe as it rang right into her very spirit. She felt every word, And I'll be by your side Wherever you fall In the dead of night Whenever you call And please don't fight These hands that are holding you My hands are holding you It was then that one thing became clear. Zoe Parker would live another day. Zoe Parker Ch. 06 Chapter 6-The Companion Zoe awoke the next morning not remembering when or how she had fallen asleep. Glancing at her alarm clock she noted the time being thirty minutes after six o'clock in the morning. Even with a rudimentary estimation she deduced that she had slept for a minimum of thirteen hours. Usually when one sleeps for over half of an entire day they awaken to feel refreshed. However, this failed to be the case for Zoe who immediately felt the weight of her emotional burdens press on her like a heavy boulder. Further noticing her surroundings Zoe quickly snatched up the pink iPod of Riley's that had fallen to the floor next to her bed. Swinging her legs over the side of her bed she then stood and stretched as hard and far as she could. A primal moan escaped her lips as almost every muscle, ligament and tendon in her body extend and then constricted. As quickly as she stopped stretching a massive yawn escaped her gaping mouth. Haggard was the best word to describe how she was feeling, Zoe decided. Worn down. Beat up. Even after what seemed to be an eternity of sleep she still felt as if the world chewed her up and spit her out. It also felt like she had been stepped on by circumstance and stuck to reality's shoe. Unsure and too confused to understand exactly what feelings caused her to cry the night before, Zoe concluded that even if she had been pulled off reality's size ten, she was still just a piece of chewed up gum. Lost in what was more of a case of self actualization than self loathing, Zoe barely heard the knock on her door. A shift of her eyes and her focus landed on the digital digits of her alarm clock. Somehow thirty minutes had passed and the time was now seven o'clock in the morning. Without an utterance of Zoe's acknowledgement or approval the person behind the door knocking became the intruder opening the door. She didn't have to see or hear the approaching guest coming through the door frame. As her nose hairs curled, Zoe wondered how her stepmother's expensive perfume could smell so cheap. Victoria, wearing a buttercup ruffled sleeveless Liz Collins top and a matching red sleek knee high skirt, strolled into Zoe's room without a hint of seeking her stepdaughter's permission. The 'click clack' of the suburban wanna be fashionista's heels echoed in Zoe's mind. Zoe could hear and see her step mother speaking to her but what was processed as sound in Zoe's head was much more comparable to a high pitched air horn. 'I bet she would buy a bottle of cow pee if they called it perfume and put Beyonce's name on it,' Zoe couldn't help but think to herself. The conversation ended rather abruptly as much of a one sided encounter as it was with Victoria babbling in Zoe's direction and Zoe attempting to have at least a half hearted look of interest. Through the nodding and polite smiling, Zoe was able to make out that Victoria was informing her that breakfast was on the table. Not very sure what she had said that they were having it wasn't until Victoria reached the open door to leave that she turned. It was then that Zoe heard her speak a statement so clear and so concise it was like a verbal dagger aimed right at her heart. "Besides Zoe, fruit and wheat toast is exactly what you need. You need to start working on that extra baby chub anyways. It's the only way you'll ever get a boyfriend. Maybe then you'll finally stop being so depressed and selfish already. We don't want to end up just like your mother," her step mother's words, one by one, came forth from her lips like a guided missile set on the destruction of Zoe's very spirit. If it wasn't for the immediate closing of Zoe's door behind her stepmother exiting there had been a very good chance Zoe would had leapt at her throat like a rabid pitbull. Instead Zoe found herself barely able to hold in an animalistic scream of rage. The suppression of her fiery emotions ravaged her heart. Bitter anger, hatred, sorrow, and fury flowed through Zoe like the raging waters of the high seas, crashing within her, unable to escape. Physically the powerful, erupting feelings within caused Zoe to grip her left arm with her right hand like a vice. Lost within herself and her emotions, Zoe could not feel the strength in which she grasped her arm. She could not feel her finger nails dig into her own flesh. She could not feel the blood begin to trickle down her arm. It took the raised voice of her father coming through the bedroom wall to bring Zoe back to reality. "Zoe, we are all heading out for the day now. Make sure you don't miss the bus. I lov...," Her father's sentiment was cut off by the screeching voice of Zoe's stepsister Gabriel. "We are going to be late! I can NOT be late," the adolescent rant of her step sibling sounded like nails on a chalkboard to Zoe. Within an instant Zoe could hear the slam of the front door. She was now alone. It was then she felt the warm trail of blood slowly flowing down her arm. Panicking Zoe franticly attempted to wipe the blood away. Instead of cleaning up the plasma that journeyed down her arm, her fingers smeared it across her skin. Zoe quickly removed the same blue hooded sweatshirt she had worn the day before and wiped the blood from her arm. Applying pressure to the two finger nail shaped holes just below her elbow on the underside of the arm she was able to quickly stop the bleeding. It was then that Zoe noticed the time on her alarm clock and cursed at it for forsaking her. Zoe had exactly fifteen minutes to get dressed, gather her things, and meet the school bus in front of her house. Without hesitation she bolted to the bathroom down the hall. Quickly she scoured the medicine cabinet and located the box of Band-Aids. After using them to cover the marks on her arm she sprinted back to her room where she quickly removed the rest of her clothing. Reaching into her still packed suitcase she pulled out the first top and bottoms she could find. In a hurry she slid on a pair of faded denim jeans whose fray and rips weren't a sense of style but simply the actual wear and tear of year old pants. Following her pants she pulled a white tshirt over her head, grabbed her canvass bookbag, Riley's pink iPod and bolted to the front door. Just seconds from the bus pulling away from the front of her house Zoe had made it in time. Boarding her giant yellow cab to school she had almost forgotten about the strange enigma that was Riley. But when she saw the glowing massive grin plastered across Riley's face as their eyes met, she remembered the entire previous day. Pretending that she didn't see Riley, Zoe took the same bench she chose the first trip to school. And without much hesitation there was a quick plop next to her and Zoe wasn't alone. Zoe wanted nothing more than to convince herself that she wasn't happy to have the beaming smile of Riley next to her. But she knew deep inside that it was just a façade. Feeling a tiny bit of warmth in her gut she pledged to herself to at least not let Riley witness her satisfaction. The body of her seat companion pressed against Zoe and all of the sudden she could feel the bulge of the digital music player in her pocket. Reaching into her pants she pulled out the hot pink iPod, placed a single ear bud in her own ear, placed the other ear bud in Riley's ear and then handed the device over to the girl next to her. As Riley scrolled through the music and pressed play, alternative rock came through the headphone into both girls ears. Out of the corner of her eye Riley could see Zoe respond with a warm, tiny smile. Zoe's smile only became bigger when she felt the head of Riley lean against her shoulder. * * * The day went by in a blur for Zoe. In the hustle and bustle of schoolwork, droning teachers and the sea of students all she could remember when the final bell rang was every silly, goofy faces Riley made at her during their classes together. It was almost as if Zoe had been lifted from her real life and placed in a time freeze where all that existed was this impractical teenage girl and the ridiculous ways she attempted to make Zoe smile. Happiness had been a stranger to Zoe for so long and at least for today it had been like passing an old friend on the street. That's what worried Zoe the most as she walked the route to the school bus. The worry that when it came time to return to the den of anguished emotions that she now called home, that old friend would be once again long gone. Zoe didn't have much time to think about those thoughts too long. Quickly she was on the bus and even quicker Riley was next to her. Reluctantly Zoe raised her focus to meet Riley's eyes. Like a volcano trying to hold in its erupting lava, Zoe's attempt to refrain from smiling failed rather miserably. The grin painted across her face was akin to that which you might find painted on the bust of a cartoon clown. It wasn't Zoe's fault. She couldn't help herself. After spending the day with Riley as the prescription to her morning's illness she could do nothing to contain the overwhelming happiness she felt when she looked at her new companion. "So I've decided that we can talk again. I mean, I'm surprised I went this long. The last time I went that long without talking I.......I don't think I've ever went that long. Talk about painful. Let's never go that again," Riley nodded with strong affirmation. "Never," Zoe responded with her own over the top nod that made her hair flop into her face. "So how was your day today? Tell me all about it. From the time you woke up until this very moment right now. Tell me everything," Riley fired out her words like a verbal machine gun. "Ummmmm......," Zoe murmured while trying to think of a way to not speak of that morning. "I woke up and got ready for school. I went to school and watched this crazy girl make weird faces at me all day and now I'm here." "Sounds like such a strange person. To just make faces at someone like that. And during school! What the nerve," with a sarcastic condemnation Riley replied to Zoe. Following her playful rant about the 'strange girl' Riley's stern serious face suddenly became a twisted display of squinted eyes, puffed out cheeks and a wagging tongue. A split second passed before both girls burst out laughing. Holding their stomachs the girls leaned into each other and suppressed their giggles. "Soooo....SOOOOOOO.......soooooo," Riley started her sentence by elongating the syllable and each word making a different pitch, "Tell me all about you. Where did you used to live? What does your mom do? What does your dad do? Why did they move here?" If a heavyweight prize fighter were to punch you square in the gut it wouldn't hurt as much as the heavy brick that now sat in Zoe's. The questions she was just asked not only brought up the painful memories of her deceased mother and her absentee father but also the sting that she quickly realized she was going to lie to Riley. "We used to live in Texas. My dad is some computer programmer whiz and we moved here because he got promoted to some big job. My mom works in reality and she's always showing houses so both of them are gone most of the day," each word drenched with dishonesty Zoe found herself clinging to the hope that Riley would believe her. "WOW! That's awesome! So your dad is like the next Bill Gates or like Tom from Myspace or someone. What kind of stuff does he program? And where does your mom sell houses? Tell me, tell me, tell me," Riley pleaded with Zoe to let her know more about her. "Well..........," Zoe paused in order to manipulate a false tale in her mind. "My dad works for the government so I don't know anything about what he does exactly and my mom just started selling here so I don't know either. "Secret government spy stuff? How cool! I bet your dad is like a complete secret agent man. I bet his watch has a laser in it," Riley became so intrigued that Zoe realized she wouldn't have to worry about her not believing the lie. The loud hydraulic brakes gushed out air and the bus's door creaked open. "Shoot! This is my stop. I'll see you tomorrow morning Ms. Zoe Parker, daughter of the world's top super undercover ninja government operative," Riley bounced down the aisle and out of the bus. Letting her head slump Zoe felt relieved to have that over with but also felt quite guilty that she had to deceive her new cohort. Zoe gathered her things together knowing that her stop was almost there. A minute passed and Zoe was at her stop. She made her way out of the bus and was quickly surprised by the sight in front of her. Not expecting her stepmother to be home until later Zoe was caught off guard seeing Victoria's car parked in the driveway. A massive wave of fear and painful remembrance from their encounter that morning had Zoe hesitating to even take a single step towards the house. A mental recap played in her mind of that morning's unpleasant experience and the malicious words from her stepmother. The dread of facing her stepmother again, twice in one day, had Zoe to the brink of tears. But then something else crept inside her mind. That of a mangled, abnormal girl's face. A face that shouldn't be able to look as goofy and silly as it somehow did. Zoe's mind eye was now focused on the plethora of animated faces from her day at school. A rush of confidence filled within her and she became certain of one thing. That no matter what her stepmother said or did; she couldn't take away the next morning's bus ride. That no matter what happened tonight she would have Riley there tomorrow morning to make her forget it all.