Chapter i

<p>"I can't stand you! I wish you weren't in my life anymore!" <br/><br/>The memory plays in my mind as they take him away, body lifeless and without vigor, face without a fight. He's passed out and strapped down on a rolling flat surface as they roll him into that van. <br/><br/>A lot of months before hand. <br/><br/>My fingers have been paralyzed from typing. my leg starts to bounce as my brain comes to a halt. my teeth comes under my lip.<br/><br/>A question that I have been no doubt asked by my English professor. Something that has caught me off my guard.<br/><br/>'What is your ideal relationship?'<br/><br/>My mind flashes to many rejected gifts and boys rejecting me.<br/><br/>A 'relationship' is something that I have chosen to give up, considering the fact that I am flawed in picking the right ones. I have come to the idea and the satisfaction that I am perfectly satisfied being single. It's easier that way. <br/><br/>if I was to choose an ideal relationship, I guess I have a few opinions. <br/><br/>Someone sweet, who would let me watch movies with him. Someone who would give me flowers. Like a fresh Rose picked by himself from a wild bush. Someone that can pick me up and hold me when I get too tired to stand. <br/><br/>Someone that can- "Honey, go take a walk and take a break from your boyfriend checklist." She says leaning on my door. <br/><br/>Sitting on my rolling chair I slowly roll around. We eye each other with suspicious looks, "How long have you been standing there?"<br/><br/>"Long enough." She says as she still waits for me to get up and go take a walk. <br/><br/>I'm not exactly the best at just going and exercising. I need a goal in mind, and saying something like, "needing fresh air," is not going to cut it. <br/><br/>I'm also not exactly, as you can see, the outdoorsy, "I need sunlight" type I'm more or less the "Please don't make me go outside type."<br/><br/>"I'll make spaghetti if you do this." <br/><br/>Outside is not so bad.<br/> <br/>I engulf myself in bug spray, letting every inch be covered as the sun comes into my eyes. The summer breeze surprisingly gives me a chill as it goes on my skin. It gives me goosebumps making my arm hair stick up.<br/><br/>An orange vanilla cream scent wafted through my nose, lingering. It reminds me of the Popsicles that I use to have when I was little. I get closer hearing familiar waves from the shore. <br/><br/>A text from my mom. <br/><br/>"Dinner's ready." She said.<br/><br/>I clutch my phone back into my pocket, so that I can make my way back home. I adjust my roll up socks and I rub my eyes. I can't wait to go home and have some spaghetti, my favorite thing. <br/><br/>There was an unfamiliar call from the water that sent chills from up my spine. I freeze. I am fully aware that animals can make sounds, but that was no animal sound. <br/><br/>Perhaps it could be someone swimming, but I never saw anybody go into the water. <br/><br/>I need to go home.<br/><br/>Well, there's my next excuse, I heard something and it was dangerous. So I should probably rest and stay in. My Mom, Rebecca Swanson, is not one to give in so easily. There could be like penguins outside and she would still be like, "Go get your excercise." <br/><br/>How can I when there are literally wild penguins in the unknown, ready to attack me? <br/><br/>"Cloe don't play with your food, eat it." Mom says to my sister. <br/><br/>The lighting was dim in our medium sized dining room. I eat my plate of food that is set on my white and my red checkered table cloth placed on my table that is designed for summer. In a corner, on a table, there is a tiny fan that gives a soothing sound and a small breeze. It has tiny scratches showing its use. <br/><br/>My adventure from earlier had popped into my head. "Hey mom?" <br/><br/>she perks up her eyebrow, "Yes?" <br/><br/>" According to my expedition, did you know that I heard a dangerous noise from a human?" <br/><br/>"Alright." <br/><br/>Concern laced in her voice she pulls out her 5 motherly first aid questions, "Where were you? Where did you go? Did you call 911 and who were you with? Did you see anybody?" <br/><br/>First aid questions, although varied, were the kind of questions that she would ask me if I was ever in danger; they're more or less convenient for when we're stuck at summer camp all day and we only have the phone. <br/><br/>For, you know, back in my younger days. Last year and below. Anyways. <br/><br/>Mom and Cloe take their leisure time to finish the little mermaid while Dad reads his newspaper in the reclining chair. <br/><br/>"I wish mermaids were real." 15 year old Cloe saids. <br/><br/>My hand on the brown railing, I glide up, my blue animal socks, colliding with the white furry stairs. I try to leave even the thought of this conversation even remotely possible, because even as fun as it would be having a merman as my husband, I don't think I have that kind of time to even remotely daydream about the myths of mixtures of aquatic sea creatures mixed with humans right now. <br/><br/>I scan my motivational quotes while lying on my bed throwing a ball into the air.<br/><br/>A merman would not fit my mental list anyway, first of all and second of all the genetics is impossible, I mean we wouldn't even be able to be together. <br/><br/>It would be impossible for me to live without the air and I'm pretty sure that it would be the same for Mr. merman. He needs to be in the water. <br/><br/>"I mean, marriage is about learning to compromise!" <br/><br/>"Go to sleep!"<br/><br/><br/><br/><br/><br/><br/><br/><br/><br/><br/><br/><br/><br/><br/><br/><br/><br/><br/><br/><br/><br/> <br/><br/><br/><br/><br/><br/><br/></p>