Love Notes
by HEATHER GUNTER
Copyright @Heather Gunter 2013
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Disclaimer: This is a work of fiction. Any resemblance of characters to actual
persons, living or dead, is purely coincidental. The Author holds exclusive rights to
this work. Unauthorized duplication is prohibited.
This book is Dedicated to my Children:
Gabriel, Lucas and Jacob
I love you three more than life itself
Let someone love you just as you are. As flawed as you might be, as unattractive as you might feel, as unaccomplished as you might think you are; let someone love you just as you are. And let that someone be YOU! ~ Sandra Kring
Chapter 1-Charlie
I wake up to incessant screaming. It’s deep and commanding and damn if it isn’t directed at me. It is way too early for this shit to start. The only words I’m able to make out are “fat ass”. They are unmistakable, I hear it enough and know better than to holler back. I slowly remove myself from the warmth of my bed where I feel safe and protected.
I take in the surroundings of my new room. The walls look like someone has thrown up Pepto-Bismol all over them and the floor has God awful rose colored carpet. The walls will definitely need to be painted, the carpet I’m stuck with, I’m definitely going to need an area rug. I am so not a pink girl.
All of a sudden I hear the words again, and if it’s at all possible, even more clear this time around. “Charlie, get your fat ass in here!” I can’t help the sigh that releases from my mouth as I walk into the room, albeit a little slowly, where the screaming originated from.
The minute my dad notices me; I can tell he’s seething mad. I don’t say anything because it will be utterly pointless. Any words that come out of my mouth while he’s this upset will surely set him off even more and I'd live to regret them. This is normal for me. I can’t do anything right and have never been able to. I’m a huge disappointment to him.
“Charlie, what did I ask you to do last night that you didn’t do?”
I’m trying to recall what it is when instantly, like a bolt of lightning, it hits me and whatever color I have in my face must be gone. I know and I screwed up. I always screw up. I don’t mean to, it just happens. I forgot to do the dishes. I know… stupid, right? It may seem this way, but it’s really not so stupid. My parents are the epitome of cleanliness. They hate anything not being cleaned or picked up. Everything must be perfect. Just like this family is supposed to be perfect. Looks are deceiving.
I take a deep breath, before I answer him, unable to keep my voice from quivering. “I’m sorry; I forgot to clean the dishes last night. I was tired from unpacking and I went to lie down and I fell….” He doesn’t even wait for me to finish the word asleep, before he barks out, “What are the rules Charlie? We have them for a reason. What if we had company stop by? How would that look?”
I can’t help but think to myself,
“Why would we have company, we just moved here?”
Of course I don’t say this out loud, things are bad enough and it would only spur him on and that is definitely something I don’t want. If he took my Jeep away I would be lost. It’s always a constant threat. I bought it myself with my own money prior to moving here but somehow it’s always used against me.
He looks at me with cold calculating eyes and I can see his brain spinning several different scenarios. “I could take your Jeep away…” I feel the beginning of tears threaten to come out but I’m desperately willing them to stay put. I don’t like to cry in front of him, ever. He lets this sit for a moment before continuing, “But then I would have to take you to school and I don’t have the time or energy to mess or deal with you.”
I slowly and quietly release my breath thanking the Lord for allowing me to keep my Jeep, my prized possession. My one and only saving grace. I desperately try to reign in the look of relief I'm sure I'm showing on my face. I don't doubt he caught it. You would be hard pressed not to.
“However, you are to go to school and home and that’s it, no job hunting or anything for two weeks. Got it?” he says.
I nod my head that I understand and turn to leave when I hear, “Charlie.” I slowly turn back around, scared he’s changed his mind about my Jeep. But instead of anger his voice changes to snarky, “You clearly don't care if you repulse anyone. You really should have tried harder to lose weight. I think you may have gained a few pounds over the summer. You’re dismissed.”
I can’t get out of there any faster and I don’t want him to see the effect his words have on me. Deep down I am screaming at myself.
“Don't cry, don't cry. Never let him see you cry. It shows weakness.”
I can't ever let him see that vulnerable part of me ever. He will grab hold of it and break the rest of me piece by piece and I will never be whole again.
It would completely break me.
I walk as casually back to my room as I possibly can. The tears finally start to free fall down my face the closer I get. The sad part is I think he's right. This is normal. Ground me and then make a dig about either my weight or looks. I deserve it. I know what I look like, nobody needs to remind me.
I quietly shut my door and put my iPod on. Music, the only thing that will calm me. As words are playing through the speakers, it's a song that couldn't describe how I am feeling at the moment any more perfectly. And the words couldn’t be any truer.
I stand in front of the mirror that I'd just hung up the night before and look at myself. I see a tear stained girl standing there, nothing special to look at. My best and only attractive feature would be my eyes. However they don’t outweigh the bad. I have dark auburn hair that hangs past my shoulders in long layers. On a good day, my hair is tamable. On most days, it’s in between curly and straight. I see chubby cheeks and a double chin as well as a nose that resembles a ski slope. Nothing special here. Just an overweight, plain Jane girl.
Chapter 2-Charlie
I wake up with the reminder of what today is and I can’t help the heavy feeling that’s weighing me down and the reason for it.
My dad has been transferred so many times that I’ve lost count. We now reside in a small little town north of Atlanta in Nowhereville. I’m starting my senior year at a new school and I have been assured by my mother that this will be the last one. Then I’m off to college. College can not come any faster for me. I can’t wait to get out of here, on my own and stay somewhere for more than a year. A place to finally call home, even if it’s in a dorm room.
I despise starting a new school, although I should be a pro at it by now. That’s what happens when your dad has a job that has him transferred from place to place. Then there’s the constant annoyance of having to explain why my name is Charlie and that in itself always is a conversation and a half. Yes, I have a boy’s name and yes my dad seems to have had a wicked sense of humor (amongst other things) when I was born. Not sure what my mom was thinking by allowing that, but it is what it is. If you ask me, giving your child a funky name is a form of child abuse.
I had joined the school choir at my last school and left behind a couple of friends, but I never get to keep them for long. It seemed like the minute I would get settled into a new school, my dad was transferred and it was moving time again. I’ve always made friends. I’ve just never had great friends, anyone that I could trust and confide in, or felt comfortable with.
I love music. There isn’t a way that I can even articulate in words how much I love it. Music is an escape from everything that’s wrong in my life. I love to sing, doesn’t mean I’m worthy of a record deal but I have a nice, pleasant, what others have called angelic voice. I attended long enough to be part of the school musical production. I'd received a solo and was privileged to sing in front of the whole school. After I had sung my solo, it seemed that everything had finally fallen into place. They seemed to like me for me. I felt comfortable, at least as much as I would allow myself to be. I could be somewhat funny and show another side of myself. I didn’t have to worry as much about the extra pounds I carried because nobody seemed to care. Well, maybe except for me and my dad. Especially since I am reminded of this almost daily. Despite finally feeling a level of acceptance at school, I have never found any one that accepted me completely.
As far as boys, I’ve never had to worry about them either, since I’m not a lot to look at. Oh, I’ve had some guy friends, but I was never more than anything but a mere friend to them. Sure, I would have liked to have gone out on a date, but to be honest I never found anyone I liked enough. There is also the fact that the thought of bringing a boy home to meet my dad makes me feel physically ill. It terrifies me and scares me more than anyone could ever understand. There really is no telling what he would do or say.
I psyche myself into getting my ass up and start getting ready, reminding myself that it could have been worse. At least I’m starting on the first day of school and not mid- year. I try to tame my unruly mass of hair. I'm unsuccessful. It was starting to resemble Medusa, not exactly what I’m going for on the first day. I may not be much to look but I at least want to look my best and give some kind of good impression.