Closed Down Ch. 01

*Quick comment: I noticed that lately I've been diving into the college plot more in my stories and it may annoy some that I don't expand my plots, but I hope my readers like this story and please feel free to give me feedback. I edited the best I could and I would use the help of an editor, but I'm too impatient and eager to have this one published. For a warning, this chapter holds no romantic scenes and is a depressing chapter. This isn't just one of those "Quickie" stories, it'll involve many chapters, if I deem so and I won't promise any sex in the next one, but if you love a good romance like I do - then you should have no problem for the wait. Now, enough of my babbling! Go and read way. <3

~Nicole.

*

Staring through the window on such a beautiful, warm, sunny day should make me happy. It should make me want to jump with glee and go catch butterflies or some shit like that, but it would require a great deal of energy I just seemed to have lost these past few weeks. During these said few weeks, a number of unfortunate events piled up on my life all of a sudden. First, there was my now ex-best friend whom I caught riding like a A+ cowgirl on top of my now ex-boyfriend, my mother left my father for some young stud that clearly didn't even understand what he was doing, my little sister came out of the closet which broke the camels back with Dad, who did anything but damned her to hell before kicking her out, and now I noticed my grades were slipping which needed to be fixed before Dad hunted me down next.

All in all now I lived in this tiny house with only my dad left in it. You'd think since I was in college now that I could get a dorm room there or something, but my parents had convinced me I was needed at home more, but now I'm staying because I don't think I can walk out on Dad right now. Ever since Mom and Abby, he's locked himself in his room for countless hours, barely getting up to eat and shower once and awhile. It's like I've become his personal nurse or something and as annoying as it was to have to constantly coax him out of his room to get him outside for a bit, I tried my best to keep my spirits up around him, but there was only so much I could do without my self-destructive attitude towards myself almost surfacing completely.

My family was never really close before all this happened. I mean, my sister and I were close enough and I was damn close to smacking Dad for the things he said before seeing her give me a look that meant not to get involved. Which is a hard thing to do when you're father is screaming what a disgrace his daughter is without the whole town hearing. I'm still on edge with that day, hence why it's more bothersome than it would've been given any other situation, considering he's acting like a child who just learned how to walk. With my parents, my sister and I never opened up to them. They were just those sort of people that expected you to do what they said, to take the insults from them without commenting back, to even get a beat down and still keep your trap shut. Yet another reason I'm living at home rather than partying it up at my college dorm room.

"Carla! Carlaaa!"

Giving one last longing look out to the glowing, green grass and breath-taking sun, I headed down to Dad's room. Where I'm sure he wants me to act like his mommy again and fetch him some soup because apparently laying around the house all day makes you a very ill person. Walking down the stairs, I lingered a little at the pictures hanging on the walls. I don't think we ever took a family photo together accept the one on the middle of the wall where I was ten and Abby was 7. A family couldn't look more awkward with those forced smiles and stiff stances like we were waiting to be blown up from the closeness of each other.

Hearing Dad grumbling loudly down below had me sigh in exhaustion. If the man would only get off his ass for two fucking seconds, I'm sure he'd be starting to try and piece his life back together. When I entered his room, I noticed the curtains where opened for the first time since Mom left and gasped a little as I saw Dad leaning against the window sill, staring outside. He looked so fragile and lost, I actually felt sorry for him. Mind you, I love my father with all my heart, but with how I was raised, it's hard to show your affections and/or actually feel any sympathy towards your family. Sounds cold, but it's the way it was as a kid.

"Dad? You alright there?"

"Yeah, yeah. Get me some soup, will ya?"

"Mm."

As I went to the kitchen and heated up the soup, I leaned against the counter and stared out the window again, thinking deeply for a moment and trying to decide how I was going to lead my life now that it's only Dad and I. Do I still try to move out sooner or later? Will he need me forever? That didn't sound too inviting. I mean, I can only handle waking up to his beautiful smile and positive attitude for so long. Pfft. The microwave beeped and I headed back to his room, staring at him while he laid there again on his bed, looking more dull than the day before. I handed him his soup and turned the T.V. on for him.

"Anything else?"

"No."

No "Thank you." or "You're doing so much for me, unlike how I've always been to you." I rolled my eyes as I left the room, before I closed the door I let him know I was heading out for a bit and that lunch was in the freezer. Walking outside never felt more relaxing, even it was only a little. Any tiny bit of comfort was welcomed right now. I breathed in the warm air and headed down to my favorite cafe'. There I could listen to noise that I wasn't fond of hearing in my house, like laughter, the clinking of glasses and people all talking around me at once, all in their own personal worlds.

As I entered I was greeted by a warm smile from my friend, Tia, who happened to have her shift now. I smiled back, or at least what I hope she could tell was a smile and headed for my usual seat near the back, out of sight, out of mind. Fingering the menu, I didn't even bother reading the words on it because I already knew what I wanted and plus, I was too wrapped up in my thoughts to notice Tia tapping her pen on my head. I snapped my head up to her, startled, but managed a 'hello' before telling her what I always get.

As I sipped on my coffee, I saw it starting to cloud up outside and I forgot all about the news I watched earlier stating that there were chances of rain. It just seemed too nice out for the chance, but I guess it just slipped my mind to bring an umbrella with me. I closed my eyes as I sipped more of my coffee and just kept thinking through my shitty life. I wondered where mom could be right now, how happy she must be while we all rot back over here, I wondered if Abby was doing any better and how much I wish I could just call her, but she never gave me a number, and I wondered how I could move out with Dad being capable of handling it.

Sitting in your own sorrow isn't any better than sitting in your own pile of shit, to be honest. So as soon as I finished my meal, gave a huge tip for Tia, paid for my meal and left, walking aimlessly for the moment. I didn't want to go home yet, but it seemed like it would pour any minute. Walking back home was nothing like walking away from it, I always got a sad feeling in the pit of my stomach every time I made my way back because I felt so chained there and I'm guessing no one likes being chained down. (Unless you put it in a kinky point of view, of course.) It was a good thing I had gotten home when I did because as far as I was concerned, it looked like somebody upstairs just threw a bucket of water down on the town.

Standing for a moment by the front door, something didn't feel right. Dad's T.V. sounded like static and as quiet as this place is, I always heard something from his room to let me know he was in there, but everything seemed so dead, it was eerie. I felt like I was in some horror flick and I was one of those moron girls that walk towards the very place the killer was at. I half expected to hear "Don't go in there, you fuckin' dumbass!" from a random viewer. I slowly made my way to his door, glancing around me like some paranoid freak and gently pushed the door open. Peaking through the crack I made in the door, Dad wasn't in his normal spot on the bed, but I saw his back from where he was sitting at his desk. He looked like he was slumped forward, so I walked in the rest of the way.

"Hey, Dad. You ok?" No response.

As I got closer, I noticed an empty bottle of pills tipped over next to him with a half-empty bottle of Vodka. My heart felt like it hit the bottom of my stomach and threaten to jump up through my throat. I rushed over to him and shook him hard, stopping to check his pulse - which wasn't there. Through my tears and panic, I pushed him back against his chair and a sob escaped my throat as I stared at his face. His eyes were half opened and looked lifeless, he was so limp like a sack of potatoes. All I could do was shake him as hard as I could.

"Dad! Oh my god, Dad! Fucking, wake up! Dad!"

I tried slapping him once in vain to try and snap him out of... Well, being dead. I knew he was a goner, but my brain wouldn't allow me to accept that. I couldn't, not after everything that already happened. He couldn't just do this to me, to Abby, even to my bitch of a mother. I ran to the phone and it seemed like I couldn't dial 9-1-1 fast enough. I stated my emergency, my address and stayed on the phone with the woman while I cried over my father, shaking him and begging him to wake up.

"You son of a bitch! How could you? You fucking selfish bastard!" Was all I could keep yelling at his lifeless form. In the distance I heard the sirens and I hung up the phone, sliding down the wall and letting the rest of my world come slamming down around me and I didn't even realize the men come in and find us in the room. After that nothing made sense anymore, they couldn't revive him and I had to contact my mother and struggled to find a way to contact Abby. The funeral held limited people since, lets be honest, my dad wasn't the most nicest guy around and a month after I finally decided to fuck it and moved into a college dorm.

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It was now officially 6 months after his death and I had no contact with my mother or Abby ever since the funeral. I didn't want reminders, I didn't want to bother with my mother - she barely reacted to the news of her ex-husbands death. All she cared of was going home after and getting stuffed by her boytoy. Abby reacted like I did, maybe even worse since he was our father and we loved him as much as we could possibly love someone like him. One main reason I hadn't talked to Abby since then was because she, once again, gave me no way to contact her and I was tired of hunting her down just to ask how her week was going.

The only thing that worked out was my moving into a dorm because now I didn't have to worry about someone giving me a ride over to my classes. I was only a half-hour away from "home", but it's currently for buy and that was dandy with me. Less to go back to and remember. I had the room all to myself since a lot of people on my side of the campus choose to rent out apartments and whatnot. I didn't really settle in like most people here have already done. I had maybe one or two posters up and no trinkets laying around. I had nothing that could bring me any sort of amusement. Mom was so gracious enough to let me have the shitty T.V. and couch that was rotting down in the basement before she decided to put the house up for buy.

Normally on Friday nights I would be laying on my bed, watching reruns and sulking in my misery, but a day before I was told by the main office that I would now be sharing the room with a new student and a male one at that. I sighed, waiting around for my roomie to show up, already having an image of what he would probably be like. Every other guy here is either always drunk or always in the library and I guessed, with my bad luck, he was gonna be the party one. I was sorting through my very limited CD collection when I heard the door unlock and as I turned to greet my roommate, I regretted it to a severe degree.

He was the most gorgeous man I had ever laid eyes on. He was carrying a duffel bag and a pillow, which seemed to be it, and closed the door with his elbow. He nodded my way with a small smile and shocked me once again when he spoke up.

"Well, hi. I'm Alexander and I guess it's pretty obvious that I'm your new roomie."

That smile, damn, that smile.

Determined to not act like an dolt, I made my way over to him and shook his hand before softly replying with my name and that it was nice to meet him. He smiled a little bit more when he shook my hand back and noticed a poster I had above my bed. Of all the dorms, I had to get the drop-dead sexy man who could model for any type of magazine.

"Ah, you like The Sounds, huh? Pretty kickass band."

"What? Oh - yeah, they're my favorite."

"Mm."

It sorta ended there as he went to work on setting up his things and for someone who seemed to have brought so little, he had a lot of pictures to hang and a lot of trinkets to place about his side of the room. I awkwardly went back to my bed and laid down, secretly watching him and pretending to be interested in the show on T.V. I don't think I ever saw a man with such long hair and actually pull it off. He had long, black hair that stopped mid-back with such tan skinned and stunning green eyes. His body frame didn't seem too shabby either when he shook off his jacket. Lean and defined, but not overly-muscled and I already concluded that he must have a good five inches or so on me.

Anyone else would have thought that living with such a bombshell would be beyond amazing, but for me it just seemed to add to my plate. I was in no mood to have a crush on anyone because I barely seem to get by in life as it is right now. I glared at him for a moment before turning my back on him in anger. It wasn't his fault for being so attractive, but I sure hoped he had a shitty personality because I needed something to keep me at bay with this one.