Part 1 (1/2)

A Beautiful Idea.

Emily McKee.

For Matt:.

Another star twinkling in the night sky. Another wisp of the wind along my face. Another wave cras.h.i.+ng in the ocean. Another ray of light beaming down from the sun. Another drop of rain that falls from the sky. Another beautiful, ornate snowflake. Now, for the rest of my life whenever I see or feel one of these I will think of you.

”Everything begins with an idea.”

-Earl Nightingale.

Chapter 1.

”You'll never amount to anything you little b.i.t.c.h, so what's the point,” Cynthia said, holding the front door open for me. ”You have and will never amount to anything! All you've ever had are ideas. Look at where you are. Nowhere! Who are you? Nothing!” The second I stepped out onto the front porch the door was slammed shut behind me.

Cynthia is my mom. Cynthia sounded harsh, but it didn't really matter what she said at that point. She could never make me feel half as bad as I already felt. Cynthia has been putting me down for as long as I can remember. At first, it was just little things here or there, but as I got older the words got worse.

It's not like she hit me or anything.

It was much worse.

She ignored me.

In a weird way, when she did talk to me, I was grateful, because half the time I felt like I was invisible to her.

I took a few seconds to catch my breath, grabbed my bags, and packed up my car. By packing up my car I mean putting a bunch of garbage bags filled with my prized and worldly possessions in the back of my s.h.i.+t automobile. After squeezing everything in there it took five minutes to slam the door shut. Sometimes the door on the back of the car got stuck.

Just my luck.

I was determined to start my new life, a junior at the University of Maryland. My motto with my mom was outta state, outta mind which is exactly why I decided to leave good ole New Jersey and make my way to Maryland.

Plus, I would finally see the beach! It wasn't like I had a huge fascination with the beach. I just wanted to see what all the fuss was about. I'd always read about how good the sand feels between your toes and the calming sounds of the waves rocking back and forth. But if you ask me, the beach sounded awful. Sand between your toes sounded annoying as well as gross.

After graduating high school, I took general cla.s.ses at the local community college and worked at a grocery store to save up money so I could move out. Some girls smacked their gum and lost brain cells I pa.s.sed the boring time with my head in a good book.

I wasn't dealt the best hand in life. My mom was a junkie and my dad bailed when he found out she was pregnant with me. I liked to refer to him as ”the sperm donor,” and ever since then Cynthia has loathed me. Children's Services stepped in a couple of times and every time I was placed back into the ”stable environment” of a crackhead alcoholic.

Huh, some legal system we have?

There were days and sometimes weeks when we didn't have electricity or sewage and I have been on food stamps for as long as I can remember. Let me just say that whoever invented powdered milk is a complete and total basket-case!

Anyway, Cynthia decided I was going to be her only mistake. So while there are families out there with numerous kids, I was all by myself. We were dirt poor so I couldn't really do much and in high school I kind of kept to myself. Sure, I had a few friends here or there, but nothing lasted. They were never interested in sticking around. Plus, while kids were ditching cla.s.s and getting drunk on the weekends, I was more interested in my books and steering clear of Cynthia's wrath.

So while most teenagers were sucking face I had my head in the clouds or in a book. I'm an avid reader and when I read I escape. The point to reading and watching movies are to escape your s.h.i.+tty, f.u.c.ked up life for just a few hours. That was why, on the rare occasions when I did get to see a movie and it sucked big time, I made a point to complain until I got a refund. I didn't care that the girls were from my school and would make fun of me the following Monday morning. But anyway, back to why I read. I liked to think I was the leading lady getting the Happily Ever After.

My head was always filled with ideas and possibilities, but that's all they ever were. I decided a change was in order and I was going to make my dreams a reality. If you haven't figured it out yet then you are a complete bonehead. I, Isabelle Katherine Clark, Iz for short, want to be an author.

I wanted to write about everyday people who live extraordinary lives. No, not like meeting a billionaire, but meeting a regular guy and falling in love, having the white picket fence, and 2.5 kids. I might throw in a serial killer to spice it up a bit, but you catch my drift.

We needed to get back to the times of Elizabeth Bennett and Mr. Darcy or Tristan and Isolde. Where you felt that life altering, ground breaking, universe s.h.i.+fting true love. The simplicity of it that made me wonder if that could happen in real life. The events of my life up to that point had given me the answer. That no, it couldn't.

Unfortunately, our stories and the paths we choose aren't written by authors who sit behind a computer desk and have all the time in the world to calculate the perfect words for answering a question or how we're going to throw ourselves at who we think is the love of our life. Nope.

We get one chance and that one chance can make or break us. Turn our event into enchantment or one of tragedy. Either tears are shed or the sounds of laughter fill a room.

We aren't able to click backs.p.a.ce or delete. That's the beauty of real life; good or bad we live in the moment.

After finally managing to slam my car door shut I started the drive to my new life. Driving through my hometown, I looked out the window and saw couples holding hands and children playing on the playground. Little did those people know that today my life became significant and I was no longer a wallflower. I was no longer nothing. I was going to be someone and do something with my life.

After getting back to reality I drove the six hours to school with a huge a.s.s smile on my face. I wasn't smiling because I was on my way to school to write papers, take tests, and do midnight cram sessions to study for finals.

Because what moron would be excited about that?

No, I was excited to have a fresh start. n.o.body knew me where I was going, so I could be anyone. Do anything. For all these people knew, I was a princess who'd decided she wanted a normal life and was done having the responsibilities of taking care of a country. Or better yet I was a movie star.

Huh, yeah, I told you I had dreams and ideas.

Of course I had to make a pit stop on the way to get a ginormous Dr. Pepper and my kryptonite, Swedish Fish. But finally, I arrived to the start of a new life. My new life.

Of course, since I was a transfer student I got s.h.i.+tty housing and had to live with all of the freshmen because I didn't know anyone. I didn't complain though because anything was better than living with Cynthia, so I thank you financial aid!

After pulling into a parking spot and turning off my car I sat and stared at all of the people around me.

It was kind of pathetic really. Out of all the kids moving into their dorms only I was all by myself. Lonesome. A loser. But then I saw a guy and his mom was choking the living s.h.i.+t out of him and getting mascara goop all over his s.h.i.+rt. Did I mention that some hot chicks walked by and giggled? What a poor b.a.s.t.a.r.d.

My situation wasn't that bad.

After finally quitting the people watching and moving in all my junk, I decided to walk around campus. After all of five minutes, I was completely bored out of my mind and walked straight back to my room. You know what I saw on that walk around campus? Buildings, buildings, more buildings, trees, gra.s.s, and did I mention buildings? I contemplated putting everything away but I was a procrastinator so I decided to wait until very late that night or the next day or never to organize my room.

The only good thing about my adventure was stopping at the cafeteria to pick up something to eat. I grabbed a sandwich because everything else scared the living s.h.i.+t out of me. Who the h.e.l.l eats raw fish? And what the h.e.l.l is a wrap? I figured a turkey sandwich on rye with pickles and a bag of chips was the safe choice.

After eating that sandwich I decided to sit on my bed and think about my life.

How it was.

How it would be.

While Cynthia and I only shared the common bond of hating one another I still wanted to thank her. Without her being who she was I would have never decided to get the h.e.l.l outta Dodge.