The Accepting Person...(Charlotte)

I sit under the tree once again- and yet even after such a long time since I've been here, I feel like I came here yesterday. That's just the beauty of this spot, I guess. The memories of sitting here, gaping at the view, into a whole other world, is so profoundly vivid, that it stays engraved in my heart until the next time I come.

Be it a week, a month or even three.

The thought of this place being here, waiting for me to come; its very existence is what consoles me.

Encourages me.

I rest my head against the tree truck, my eyes wanting to drift into a cool sleep, with the shade covering me with some sense of protection.

If I could stop time, this moment, with my diary in my hands, and my pen tucked in my ear, I would pause it at this minute. And never resume my life again. Just stay like this, buried and hidden in my thoughts, a gorgeous view of the sunset in front of me, watching and wondering what I'm doing. Curious, because I'm probably one of the rare people who notice its existence.

But today felt a bit different.

My thoughts are blackened and threatening, things that were left unsaid, trying to crawl up from my throat, pleading to escape. Begging because they can't. Manipulating the words until they hurt, because that's the only way they could get out. Maybe, because of this dark aura living within me had snatched away my comfort, as it looks likes not even this place seems to be consoling me.

No reassurance by the deep sky, and it's mixed colors or these trees whos' tranquil leaves. These things that make me day-dream, slicing through the thick glass, to step into another world. But I can't find that world anymore. Is it because I can't find the solace that I once felt from this place? This scene in front of me that once felt endless and now looks...suffocating? Is the world even enough for me to live in? 'Cause I can feel myself, piece by piece changing into this different person. This person who can bear living without any dreams, thoughts, worlds.

This person who's accepting that... well, she's normal. Ordinary. That all these 'fantasies' are just, well, fantasies.

I don't want that. But every time I wake up, I'm scared since I may not be myself anymore. I may have transformed into that accepting person without even realizing. And that, is agony. Worst part is, I can't even share it with anymore. The people who'll get it, only exist in my imaginations.

So no. I don't think anyone would understand why I never showed up for Alisa. She... she was that type of a person. The accepting one.

And I couldn't stand it.

The way she just accepted her death. Not believing in miracles. Not hoping at all. And it drove me insane to know that she didn't think she was lucky.

That's why we fought, I couldn't bear it. Knowing that she was ready to accept change, made me realize how i wasn't ready to. Made me realize how i never wanted to.

I put my diary away from my lap, tears welling up in my eyes.

This is so unfair...

I rub my eyes until my cheeks get splotched wet. I let out a shaky breath, trying to calm myself down, to distract myself from my thoughts.

Distracting myself with yesterday's incident.

I was broken and ashamed when I had entered inside the house. I wasn't accepting to face a whole other drama.

My sorrow turned into agitation to see this, which is probably why I argued with Jason and supported Joey- A guy I've barely known for a month.

"What the Hell, Charlie?" Jason had yelled at me as soon as Joey left the room.

"What?" I asked.

"What do you think you're doing, butting into a conversation like that when clearly I had the problem under control?" He hissed.

"Oh really?" I scoffed, "Look, Jay, I know you don't like him, but that doesn't mean you try to get money out of him ok? You can't stoop any lower then that trust me."

"And why would I care about your opinion huh?" He gritted his teeth. "Always out, with your friends, not caring about the house at all and then all of a sudden, you get to decide what's right and wrong?"

"Jason..." Emma stared in shock.

"Yeah, that's right." His voice rose louder, "You, Charlotte Quin, have no right to take charge of situations that you aren't meant to handle."

"Oh and you were really mature about solving them?" I snapped, feeling so angry that my hands were trembling, "Please. You were blackmailing a kid to give you money which clearly he didn't have!"

"I gave him an option didn't I?"

"An unfair one." I glared, "You knew he wasn't comfortable with it."

"Should have thought about that before coming here." He replied, flatly.

"Oh my god, you're such a moron!" I shouted, "We're the ones who brought him here!"

There was a long silence, everyone knowing I was right. Even Jason.

But he won't stop that easy, of course.

"Can't believe your actually going against your own family." He muttered.

Before I had a chance to talk, Dad decided to finally talk some sense into Jason.

"Charlie is right." He said. "In fact, Jason, I think, that you got carried away. A lot."

"No shit." Emma whispered.

"Alright, now that's enough." Dad declared, loud enough enough for me to wonder if Joey had heard it. "The boy's going to pay back by working here for some time. I think it's a good idea - considering I can use the extra work."

"What's he going to do anyway?" Emma pointed out, "I don't think he knows any farm work."

"Yes, I'm aware." Dad looked at me when he said, "Which is why I'm expecting someone to teach him the basic stuff."

Jason smirked, Emma frowned.

I rose a brow, "What...do you... mean?"

Dad got up from his couch, stretching his back as he said, "What I mean is, that you're in charge. You're going to be teaching him whatever is necessary."

"What!"

"It was your idea, wasn't it?" He blinked, "What else did you think was gonna happen?"

"But-"

"End of conversation." He walked out of the room.

"Wait!" I tried again.

"I said, 'end'!" He called back, closing the front door.

I grimace at the sky, recalling this memory. Well, this is just great.

Another responsibility. Another burden.

There's a rustling sound behind me, it's been there for a long time. Someone...staring at me. I tried to ignore it but now I feel goosebumps pricking my skin and I can't help but get up.

"Who's there?" I ask, looking around to get hold of a branch sturdy enough to be used as a weapon- if necessary.

The slow and steady walk is starting to get closer, so I grip my hands into tight fists, hard enough to make them shake uncontrollably with threatening defense.

But can I really defend myself from danger?

What if I completely freeze up in fear and not even get a chance to grab a twig to hit the person with?

And who's to say that it really is someone dangerous? I'm probably over imagining things. It may be not serious.

My thoughts get the best of me as I don't realize that the 'danger' was literally right in front of me behind the bushes.

And turns out, I do freeze up.

"There you are!" Emma shouts with a hint of relief. "We've been looking for you everywhere."

I blink, stunned to see that I actually found my sister's footsteps intimidating.

"'We'?" I repeat, questioningly.

She shrugs, stepping aside awkwardly, for me to see that another figure was emerging from the bushes.

Joey.

I wanted to ask what he was doing here but Emma must have read my mind, explaining, jamming a thumb behind her, towards his direction. "He said he was ready to work, so Dad wanted me to take him to you since...you know."

Yeah, I do know. Since he my 'responsibility', is what she want's to say.

Joey stands there, a good distance away from us, shifting from feet to feet. He could run but something tells me he won't considering the fact that he almost died when he ran alone.

"...Right." I sigh, my fingers clinging tightly on my diary. I look at Emma again, skeptically glaring at her light green dress and long shining earrings. "And what are you doing, dressed up like you're going to some posh restaurant?"

"I'm going out with my friends to the mall." She answers, almost defensively, her cheeks glowing red. "And I'm late because of you."

"You found me, didn't you?" I wave her off. "Go on now. Leave."

"Great!" She grins, looking back at Joey and waving, "Good luck with the work."

"Thanks." He replies, with a small smile.

I realize his voice isn't as slurred as before. So he's recovering. Meaning, he can leave as soon as he's done with the work.

"Alright then." I cross my arms, walking past him. "Let's get going."

He nods, "Right behind you."