The True Happiness

Chapter 1

Hanna watched as her father's car pulled away down the street. She sighed and with book in hands entered the retirement home. She placed a blonde strand behind her ear. She returned the greetings as she walked towards the place where her grandfather always was. She went into the garden in front of the lake. It was the first week of summer, the heat still wasn’t sweltering.

Her grandfather was sitting in a chair with his blue eyes fixed on the lake. His hair was gray, like his pants. A red shirt and the glasses on. The years lived were reflected on the wrinkles on his skin. Hanna approached him and sat beside him.

“Grandpa James,” Hanna muttered.

He turned to see her and smiled at her.

“What are you going to read me today?” He asked her looking at the book that his granddaughter was holding.

She showed him the book. It was an old black-bound book. It had no cover or anything.

“I haven’t opened it, but you said that the best are those that are different from others. This was the most distinguished in your library.”

“And what are you waiting to read it?”

Hanna smiled at his grandfather. She opened book bumping with a handwritten page. She turned the pages quickly. All were written by hand in black ink. Hanna returned to the first page and began to read to his grandfather, as she had done so many times.

“I know this is stupid...”

September 23, 2009

3:09 a.m.

I know this is stupid, but it was the only way that the psychologist leaves me alone. From what dad has happened to follow the advice of the bitch of his wife he has forced me to go to a psychologist. I hadn’t said anything in any of the five sessions, but the stupid is tired of my silence and today he pressed me until I couldn’t do any but answer him and not exactly pleasant words.

Then he said that there must be something I liked doing. He asked me about sports, theater, painting, music, clothes, cars, school classes (as if anyone could it like that shit), animals, mechanics, science... He followed up until he hit home. Writing and reading.

When he realized that was what I liked to do he put on a grin and gave me this stupid book to "write my feelings and relieve me." Bullshit. The only one I write for is my mother, even though she died when I was eight. I completely blocked that day. I don’t remember anything and I don’t want to remember. All I know is that she is no longer here and dad, his new wife and sons can’t bear me. He says that I had changed since mom’s death. He was the one who changed her. He married his secretary a year after mom died.

I'm sixteen years, I have lived with this woman for almost seven years and I cannot stand her. She's a whore who took advantage of mom’s death open her legs for dad. And my "little brothers" can go to hell with her too. With fourteen and twelve years they have learned to stay out of my way and that secures their lives.

And like life loves me so much (note the sarcasm stupid psychologist motherfucker) Audrey, my best friend and neighbor since I can remember, today had informed me that her step-sister is coming to live here. If she was like Audrey I would not mind at all, but that rich girl must be more presumed, hollow and stupid that the ‘girls’ of school. I do not understand why she decides to move here when she has lived with her father all her life.

Whatever. It's three in the morning and as they are remodeling an area school so we got this week off.

(HI! this is a new fanfic I'm writing. Like this is kind of a "journal" there're going to be super short chapters and super large chapters depending on the day. It may look like a cliche but I swere is not a cliche!! Hope you like it)