Chapter Two:
I got into my aunt’s car.  Oddly enough, it wasn’t her usual car.  She was driving her husband’s.  I smiled at her as I dropped my bag in the back seat.  Everyone always commented to us that we looked alike.  We believe that I look more like her then I do with my parents.  My sister is the one that looks like my dad and always acts like him too.

               “I’m sorry, I wish I could be more sensitive to your right now but I really have to pee.  I had to pee for the longest time at work today, but it was just so busy and then I got the phone call from your sister, after hearing what happened then I gave you a call and I wanted to get you out of the house as soon as possible so I left work early and I didn’t even get a chance to pee.  Do you mind if I pee in my pants?  It might go on your seat but I’m sure you won’t mind, right?”

                Both of us began to crack up laughing.  My aunt and I could make each other laugh during any point in our lives.  Good or bad, we always end up cracking up for hours.  I loved being around her.  She always made me feel better and helped me through situations that seemed impossible to live through, but seemed so easy when I would talk about it with her.

                  I explained my situation in a lot more detail then I did on the phone.  My aunt nodded and listened to me with out any interruptions from her.  She waited for me to finish until she replied to my story.  I listened to her careful as I cried once again.  She wasn’t hurtful or inconsiderate or anything on those lines, she was helping me.  Listening to your situation come from another person’s mouth was really hurtful to hear.  

                 My aunt told me in the car that my grandmother and her were bringing me out to dinner at a diner to talk about things.  I couldn’t help but feel lost in a sense.  I was happy to go out with them, but they didn’t have to treat me different just because I had a little brake down.  They both know that I was having difficulty all these years, but I guess no one expected my little brake down during school.

                       As soon as we had gotten to my grandmother and my father’s house, my aunt sprinted out of the car to the bathroom as my grandmother wobbled out of the back door slow because of her age.  I saw my aunt run passed my grandmother as my grandma looked at me with a curious expression.  I jogged up to her and told her that she had to pee.  She smiled and then escorted me into the house.  She asked me if I was okay and I replied with a sincere smile that I would be okay for now.

                        My aunt emerged from the bathroom not long after my grandmother and I walked into the house.  I loved this house.  It was an old Victorian style house.  The windows were small and along with the ceilings too.  I remember walking through the house during all sorts of holidays and special occasions or just being here.  I always wanted to live here.  Not because I wanted to get away from my mother, but because I’ve never lived in a real house before.  I loved it, and it hasn’t been the same since my dog Sheba had died only six months ago.  It’s hard to go someplace with out the regular people that your so used to seeing all the time.

                       My father was at work and I didn’t get to say hi before we left for dinner.  We left after my aunt told her story about her having to pee so badly in the car.  She’s so animated that’s what I love about her.  When she’s telling a story, she always uses her whole body to tell it so it’s a lot more interesting and funny as well.  We walked out of the house in hopes of putting all the crap and unhappiness that happened to me today aside.  But not just forgetting about it but also fixing it too.  

                      We finally got to the diner and ate and talked about things.  I can’t recall what was said or remotely close to our conversation, but all I know is that they helped me.  We walked out of the neon style diner and walked to the gray car that was in between a suburban and a green jetta.  We somehow began to talk about my sister.  My grandmother said something that was incredibly funny.  “Your sister is the spawn of your father.  After your father dies, she lives on.”  All of us began to crack up hysterically.  

               As we got out of the car and parted with my aunt, she told me to call her tomorrow and tell her how I was feeling.  My grandmother and I went inside, and I talked with her for a while.  Whenever I was visiting, I would have hour-long conversations with her about anything.  She was the type of person that would actually sit down and talk with you and not judge you for what you think or for your actions.  She would give advice if she thought that you needed it or just comfort you when you needed to be.

               After our conversation, I made my way upstairs with my overnight bag in one hand, and a lit cigarette in the other.  I went to sleep in my sister’s bedroom because I was so used to sleeping in a big bed at home, that my twin bed that I had at my father’s didn’t seem to be big enough for me.  I turned on the television to watch my favorite show, Buffy the Vampire Slayer.  My dad must have had ESP because he opened the door less than a minute later.  We had a short conversation because I practically booted him out of the room so I could watch the new episode.

                 As I watched the show, which was called Conversations with the dead, I realized how unhappy and depressed I really was.  The whole concept of this particular episode was realizing your emotional weakness.  Dawn was visited by her dead mother, Willow was having a random ghost used as a middle man to talk to her dead lover and Buffy was having a heartfelt conversation with a vampire she knew before he was part of the undead.  The things that he said to her really stuck with me.  
I began to think if it was just my pessimistic outlook was indeed the reason that was making me depressed.  I have grown so used to it that it didn’t occur to me how messed up I really was.  Sometime when I would feel the pain, it would hurt so much that at times, I felt as if I couldn’t breathe.  That I would always feel this way.

                   After the episode I tried to fall asleep.  But unfortunately, I had so much stuff on my mind that my brain wouldn’t rest.  It’ kept on running things through my mind causing me to think and not rest.  I lit up a cigarette and looked around the dimly lighted room.  It was white walls with things from my sister’s childhood and mine.  Her comforter and sheet’s were leopard print.  They were oddly uncomfortable but yet soft at the same time.

                    My mind wasn’t at ease.  I kept on thinking about Evan and how mad my mom was going to be when I came home.  I was so upset, and still thought about the same things over and over again.  But then, while I didn’t notice, I fell asleep with the thoughts in my head that I was pondering.