Categories > Celebrities > Simple Plan > How Could This Happen To Me?
Chapter 5
When I woke up today, I could hear my parents yelling at each other, so loud, people in Australia probably heard. I groaned, and wrapped my pillow around my head, but I couldn’t block out the noise, so I decided to get up.
While brushing my teeth in the washroom, I heard my dad say to my mom,
“We should tell her it’s over. We can’t keep this lie up forever.”
Like the say, curiosity killed the cat, and listening in defiantly killed my life.
I started going down the stairs, and I heard their harsh words and tones drop down abruptly. How stupid do they think I am? Gosh, just because I’m a California girl doesn’t mean that I’m a stupid preppy chick.
When I got downstairs, both my parents were sitting at one end of the island counter, with monotone faces staring at me. Usually, I’d make a sarcastic comment and smile, but it seemed like the moment was too serious to joke about with, so I asked them what was going on.
“Serenity, we have to talk to you.” My dad said solemnly. He looked hurt with every word he said, like it was a knife in the heart telling me whatever was coming next.
“Your father and I,” My mom started, “Have loved each other for a long time, but we feel that”-
“Yeah, I don’t care about old people crap, just cut to the point; I’m going to Pierre’s in 5.” I said, impatiently.
“Serenity! This is no time for sarcasm,” My mom started again, “But I’ll just keep it short if you think boys are more important than your family. We’re getting divorced.” She said that word with such disgust, as if somebody was forcing her to do it. I gagged when I heard that, and not because I had chocked on the glass of milk I was drinking.
“Yeah. Whatever. I was waiting for that anyways, why didn’t you tell me before? I don’t care about your life, it’s your problem, not mine. You want to go fuck somebody other than your husband or wife, go ahead! See if I care! It’s so good to know that you always ask my opinion first before making such stupid decisions.” I said, trying to keep the overload of my emotions under control. I don’t cry, I don’t care. I’m not sensitive, and I have a life, without my stupid, love-wrecked, parents. I thought to myself. I had noticed that they flinched as I had said ‘Fuck’, so just to piss them off, as I was walking out the door, in what I had been sleeping in- sweats and a tank top- I calmly said,
“Fuck you. I’m pretty sure you’ve said that to each other tons, so don’t act surprised.” Then I left.
Once I turned the corner to get onto Pierre’s street, I realized that I was in a tank top and sweats, it was raining, and I was crying. Great. I’d show up in rags, crying, and Pierre’s mom would probably confuse me with a homeless person when she opened the door. I got to Pierre’s house, rang the doorbell, and Pierre opened it.
“RENI! What happened to you! You look like a complete mess! And…. Reni…. Are you crying?” He said, concerned.
“C-c-c-can we g-g-g-go to your r-r-r-room?” I stuttered, between chokes, and he led me upstairs to his room. When I got into his room, I sat down on the edge of his bed, and he grabbed a spinny chair, sat down, and faced me.
“Serenity, take slow, deep, breaths. It helps.” He said, wide eyed staring at me. I took a deep breath in, but just as I was about to exhale, I choked on a gasp and started crying again. Pierre looked at me, with a pain struck look, and sat beside me and hugged me. I buried my face into his shoulder, I didn’t care that he was one of my best friends, and that his best friend and I wanted to hook up, I didn’t care that I looked as ugly as a Neanderthal, (a type of early man), and I didn’t care that he smelled funny. I didn’t care. Because for those moments, I didn’t need a stupid parent, that would send me to a guidance counselor, or a stupid crush, that I would get nervous around, I needed a friend, a friend who I loved with all my heart, but would never try to impress, because I love them just that much.
When I finally finished crying, I just stared at his wall for what seemed like eternity, not caring if the world had ended. Pierre suddenly spoke up, saying
“Whenever you want to talk, you can talk, I’m here to listen.” He said. I looked at him, to see if I could really trust him, and I could tell that he was fully, honestly, concerned.
“But you might want to change clothes before you start talking, because you’re a dripping wet mess.” He said.
“I don’t have any clothes here, if you haven’t noticed by now, this is kind of your house, smart ass.” I said smiling at his stupidity.
“Oh yeah….Eh….want to borrow something?” He offered awkwardly.
“Sure, I’d rather smell like a teenage boy than be wet” I answered, to break the ice.
“Hey! Nothing wrong with smelling like the awesome Pierre Bouvier!” He exclaimed, holding a hand to his heart while he grabbed a shirt and sweatpants from his closet. They were kind of ten sizes too big, but I took them from him and changed into them in his washroom.
When I came back, he was listening to his Walkman, but pulled the headphones off right when I walked in. I sat down, took a deep breath, and started talking.
“Okay, here it goes. My parents are getting divorced, and I don’t know what to do. My parents have always said that they were thinking about it, and I always tried to play it cool and not care, but holy fuck, I mean, they’re getting divorced for crying out loud! How the fuck do they expect me to keep it cool!?!?” I said. Well, I started screaming at the end, so actually, it should be, ‘I said/screamed’.
Pierre just looked at me, and I could tell that he was at a loss for words. Hmph, welcome to my world, boy. I sighed, and stood up to walk around his room, while he moved to sit on his bed. I stared out the window, resting my head against the frame. It was raining, but it seemed so peaceful. I wished I could just sit there, for eternity, and just stare. Stare at nothing, and care about nothing. Why? Because that’s what I’ve been trying to do. But I can’t. I care too much. I care about my mom, my dad, my family, and me. Ha. Me. How selfish am I? Who cares. There it goes again, thinking about caring. An overrated thought, an overrated feeling. I sighed, and sat down beside Pierre.
“Can you imagine what it would be like to be a tree?” I asked absent mindly.
“Umm…No, not really, Why?” He asked, putting his arm around me. It felt so warm, and it felt so natural.
“Because all a tree has to do is grow, they don’t have to worry about food, they have water and sun. They don’t have to worry about reproducing, that’s Johnny Appleseed’s job. They don’t have to worry about relationships, or appearance. All they have to do is grow. I wish that’s all we had to do. Grow. Not worry about food, or divorces, or if you’re too fat. Just grow.” I said, and I wrapped my arms around Pierre and rested my head on his shoulders. We just sat there arm in arm, just like a lucky, fucking, tree. Not caring about the world outside our home turf. I was happy in this moment, so I squeezed Pierre and pulled him closer to me. Right when David walked in.
When I woke up today, I could hear my parents yelling at each other, so loud, people in Australia probably heard. I groaned, and wrapped my pillow around my head, but I couldn’t block out the noise, so I decided to get up.
While brushing my teeth in the washroom, I heard my dad say to my mom,
“We should tell her it’s over. We can’t keep this lie up forever.”
Like the say, curiosity killed the cat, and listening in defiantly killed my life.
I started going down the stairs, and I heard their harsh words and tones drop down abruptly. How stupid do they think I am? Gosh, just because I’m a California girl doesn’t mean that I’m a stupid preppy chick.
When I got downstairs, both my parents were sitting at one end of the island counter, with monotone faces staring at me. Usually, I’d make a sarcastic comment and smile, but it seemed like the moment was too serious to joke about with, so I asked them what was going on.
“Serenity, we have to talk to you.” My dad said solemnly. He looked hurt with every word he said, like it was a knife in the heart telling me whatever was coming next.
“Your father and I,” My mom started, “Have loved each other for a long time, but we feel that”-
“Yeah, I don’t care about old people crap, just cut to the point; I’m going to Pierre’s in 5.” I said, impatiently.
“Serenity! This is no time for sarcasm,” My mom started again, “But I’ll just keep it short if you think boys are more important than your family. We’re getting divorced.” She said that word with such disgust, as if somebody was forcing her to do it. I gagged when I heard that, and not because I had chocked on the glass of milk I was drinking.
“Yeah. Whatever. I was waiting for that anyways, why didn’t you tell me before? I don’t care about your life, it’s your problem, not mine. You want to go fuck somebody other than your husband or wife, go ahead! See if I care! It’s so good to know that you always ask my opinion first before making such stupid decisions.” I said, trying to keep the overload of my emotions under control. I don’t cry, I don’t care. I’m not sensitive, and I have a life, without my stupid, love-wrecked, parents. I thought to myself. I had noticed that they flinched as I had said ‘Fuck’, so just to piss them off, as I was walking out the door, in what I had been sleeping in- sweats and a tank top- I calmly said,
“Fuck you. I’m pretty sure you’ve said that to each other tons, so don’t act surprised.” Then I left.
Once I turned the corner to get onto Pierre’s street, I realized that I was in a tank top and sweats, it was raining, and I was crying. Great. I’d show up in rags, crying, and Pierre’s mom would probably confuse me with a homeless person when she opened the door. I got to Pierre’s house, rang the doorbell, and Pierre opened it.
“RENI! What happened to you! You look like a complete mess! And…. Reni…. Are you crying?” He said, concerned.
“C-c-c-can we g-g-g-go to your r-r-r-room?” I stuttered, between chokes, and he led me upstairs to his room. When I got into his room, I sat down on the edge of his bed, and he grabbed a spinny chair, sat down, and faced me.
“Serenity, take slow, deep, breaths. It helps.” He said, wide eyed staring at me. I took a deep breath in, but just as I was about to exhale, I choked on a gasp and started crying again. Pierre looked at me, with a pain struck look, and sat beside me and hugged me. I buried my face into his shoulder, I didn’t care that he was one of my best friends, and that his best friend and I wanted to hook up, I didn’t care that I looked as ugly as a Neanderthal, (a type of early man), and I didn’t care that he smelled funny. I didn’t care. Because for those moments, I didn’t need a stupid parent, that would send me to a guidance counselor, or a stupid crush, that I would get nervous around, I needed a friend, a friend who I loved with all my heart, but would never try to impress, because I love them just that much.
When I finally finished crying, I just stared at his wall for what seemed like eternity, not caring if the world had ended. Pierre suddenly spoke up, saying
“Whenever you want to talk, you can talk, I’m here to listen.” He said. I looked at him, to see if I could really trust him, and I could tell that he was fully, honestly, concerned.
“But you might want to change clothes before you start talking, because you’re a dripping wet mess.” He said.
“I don’t have any clothes here, if you haven’t noticed by now, this is kind of your house, smart ass.” I said smiling at his stupidity.
“Oh yeah….Eh….want to borrow something?” He offered awkwardly.
“Sure, I’d rather smell like a teenage boy than be wet” I answered, to break the ice.
“Hey! Nothing wrong with smelling like the awesome Pierre Bouvier!” He exclaimed, holding a hand to his heart while he grabbed a shirt and sweatpants from his closet. They were kind of ten sizes too big, but I took them from him and changed into them in his washroom.
When I came back, he was listening to his Walkman, but pulled the headphones off right when I walked in. I sat down, took a deep breath, and started talking.
“Okay, here it goes. My parents are getting divorced, and I don’t know what to do. My parents have always said that they were thinking about it, and I always tried to play it cool and not care, but holy fuck, I mean, they’re getting divorced for crying out loud! How the fuck do they expect me to keep it cool!?!?” I said. Well, I started screaming at the end, so actually, it should be, ‘I said/screamed’.
Pierre just looked at me, and I could tell that he was at a loss for words. Hmph, welcome to my world, boy. I sighed, and stood up to walk around his room, while he moved to sit on his bed. I stared out the window, resting my head against the frame. It was raining, but it seemed so peaceful. I wished I could just sit there, for eternity, and just stare. Stare at nothing, and care about nothing. Why? Because that’s what I’ve been trying to do. But I can’t. I care too much. I care about my mom, my dad, my family, and me. Ha. Me. How selfish am I? Who cares. There it goes again, thinking about caring. An overrated thought, an overrated feeling. I sighed, and sat down beside Pierre.
“Can you imagine what it would be like to be a tree?” I asked absent mindly.
“Umm…No, not really, Why?” He asked, putting his arm around me. It felt so warm, and it felt so natural.
“Because all a tree has to do is grow, they don’t have to worry about food, they have water and sun. They don’t have to worry about reproducing, that’s Johnny Appleseed’s job. They don’t have to worry about relationships, or appearance. All they have to do is grow. I wish that’s all we had to do. Grow. Not worry about food, or divorces, or if you’re too fat. Just grow.” I said, and I wrapped my arms around Pierre and rested my head on his shoulders. We just sat there arm in arm, just like a lucky, fucking, tree. Not caring about the world outside our home turf. I was happy in this moment, so I squeezed Pierre and pulled him closer to me. Right when David walked in.
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