What really happened

This is a late exercise that is a changed point of view of last tuesday's submission by me: More than a home. It should have parallels but it gives what really happened front he perspective of Zach. I hope you like it.

I loved her more than I ever imagined. I did anything and everything for Vanessa. She was the light of my world and the only thing keeping me from descending back to that horrible place. I had lost everyone that ever cared about me. My dad was in jail for killing my mother. My sister disappeared shortly after with out a word. I was alone and scared. Alcohol helped me cope with the horrors. I kept up appearances where I could. It was either hiding from depression or hiding the sweet poison. No one knew, no one asked, no one cared but she did.

We met by chance. We were both late to the bus one day that it was raining. I had stupidly forgot anything to keep me from getting soaked. She was nice enough to share her umbrella with a wet mutt like me. I could see a shining kindness in her eyes, much like my mothers. So I chatted with her, told her how nice and good looking she was.  It was simple and easy talking to her and when I finally got her name I was smitten. Vanessa, unique and special just like her. She seemed interested in me. So why not try again.

I cleaned myself up. Shaved, hair cut, new clothes the works. I had to have her. It took me weeks to work up the courage to ask her out on a date, when she said yes I was ecstatic. We went to a nice Italian restaurant in town, I did anything and everything to woo her. It all paid off when she asked me to join her in her yearly garden party where she cooks a feast for her friends and family. I knew then and there we had something and that I loved her more than anything in the world at that point.

Soon after that we were going steady, going out, having fun at my place, movies, anything and everything. We were so happy, nothing could bring me down. We generally stayed at my place because her house gave me the creeps. Like someone or something was always watching. Vanessa told me that it was silly and that there was no one else in the house. It didn’t comfort me so I always convinced her to come over to my place instead.  It worked for some time but she always wanted her home, something my place couldn’t give her. She said it was perfect for her, always was since her mother bought it when she was little.

We began to fight, innocently enough until it grew too large to handle. Little things here and there would be a big deal like, how my place was always cold, or her leaving stuff on. It was childish to say the least. I turned to alcohol again to relax and to let the little things go. Of course it didn’t work, every fight turned into a reminder of my mother and father. How he beat her and I for her being strong. I became angry that I couldn’t control anything anymore. So I took matters into my own hands the only way I knew how. But it made things worse, she was gone and I was alone again.

Everything was a blur from then on, back to drinking anything to stop the pain. Whenever I checked in on myself I was stalking Vanessa; at home, on the bus, at work. I confronted her several times but each ended the same, her pushing me away. I finally found myself  in a gutter  with an empty bottle of the strongest liquor I could find. Breaking it on the dirty trashcan I left and went back to whatever is left of a home. Sobering up I tried for one Last Chance, trying to plead for my innocence.  I write this as an account of what happened, I hope it finds you well.