Annabelle, Episode 1


 

By Shawn Guzman
 
 
After what seemed like ages, I finally looked at my exam scores. I had scored two B’s, a C and six E’s. By the look on my homeschool teacher’s face, he wasn’t very impressed.
The idiot.
I mean, its not like he’s not doing his job. I just dislike him too much to pass what he lectures me on. The hugest reason why I disliked him was because he obviously had a crush on my father.
My father’s divorced, but I trust him. I’m sure he wouldn’t pay attention to some stupid drag queen.
I think.
 
I’m Annabelle Petrelli. Usually, its “Anabelle” but my mom’s a maniac.
I have a TON of nicknames.
Believe me. A TON.
There’s Ann, Anna, Annie, Belle, Bella, Elle and Ella. Oh, wait, Annabella too.
I’m supposed to be in the eleventh grade but my parents prefer homeschooling for me, as they feel I’m autistic.
Bitch, no.
I’m sixteen. July the 4th’s my birthday, plus my dad works for homeland security, so I don’t get to pay for highschool or college.
Its very ironic that my parents prefer some boring old potato to teach me stuff I’d learn for free in s government owned institution. Life’s weird.
 
“Annabelle?”
Mr Luke said, breaking me out of my reverie.
“Yeah?”
He grimaced. “I believe we’re finished with today’s activities. I’d like to g-“
He stopped as my dad literally waltzed into the room.
Honestly, he’s too hot to be a dad. It gets scary.
“Good evening, Mr Petrelli.” Luke said.
My dad flashed him a cheeky smile. “Luke, I think you’ve worked here long enough to address me by my first name. Not that it matters anymore though. Annie’s mother came by and we both decided she begin highschool.”
 
I squirmed. Highschool. Highschool. Highschool. Highschool. Highschool.
That clichéecho went on in my mind.
 
You know that moment when you just don’t know what the fuck you’re feeling?
Well, this is it. I’d give this moment an Oscar.
 
I suddenly was reminded that my dad and Luke stood before me.
My dad’s face was etched with concern, however.
“Sweetie? Did you hear that? Are you okay?”
 
What am I, seven?
 
I sighed. “Uh, yeah. I’ma just head upstairs.”
He look disheartened but excuse me for feeling awkward.
————————–
 
About an hour later, there was a knock on my room’s door. My dad walked in, after I had answered.
He smiled. “Hi.” I smiled back sheepishly.
“Hey.” He moved closer to the edge of the bed.
“Wanna talk about it?”
I shrugged. “Do you?”
He smiled reassuringly. “Yeah.”
 
Believe me, I tried to be the cool, uninterested kid but as they say, curiosity murdered Annabelle.
So I burped out the question on the tip of my tongue.
“So, why the sudden change?”
Dad ran his hand through his blonde hair.
“Your mom thinks it’ll be good to interact with kids your age. “
I nodded, thinking about how often she said it, but my supposed “Autism” hindered socialism.
Honestly, parents.
 
“I don’t think she’s ever gonna forgive you.”
Stupid me blurted out.
My dad flinched.
 
Congratulations, Anna. Way to hurt the man.
 
Surprisingly, he answered. “I don’t think so too. “
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