A/N: This is my first attempt at POV changes. I never really liked the idea (or saw the point) until I read Flipped by Wendelin Van Draanen (excellent book, by the way). I had been toying around with this idea since the summer and I think it would be a good story for my POV swapping experiment. So, one chapter will be in one person’s point of view, the next chapter the others’. It will go back and forth like that between the two. Please take time to read and review (it means a lot to me).

Autumn Came

Bonnie

Steal:

Do you ever get the feeling someone’s watching you? I never had. Ever. I lived in a house that was about as old as I was (a whole seventeen years) and found that I laughed at the thought of ghosts. My friend told me that it’s not just ghosts that could be watching me – real people too. I was never stalked. Who would stalk me? I’m not about to start a guilt trip about what a dork I was and how no one liked me because that so was not the case. I just knew that no one, dead or alive, was watching my every move. I wasn’t exactly the most intriguing person on the block. There were plenty of lunatics to keep an eye on.

It wasn’t until November when I started to feel as though I wasn’t alone. Even as I say that now, it sounds like I’m talking about aliens or something (and not the illegal ones from Mexico). When I was at my house, doing homework or watching TV, I just had a weird feeling that someone was there, watching me through a window or standing right there behind me. I’ll be the first to admit I often stole a quick glance over my shoulder from time to time.

My father was acting weird too. He was a lawyer, so I never saw much of him, but when he was home, he was different. Everything that my mom or I did seemed to irritate him to no end. Chewing my cereal too loudly nearly threw him out of his seat. My mom seemed nervous too about something. Probably just worried that her marriage was on the rocks and she was going to get divorced. My parents hadn’t acted all couple-like in years . . .their flame had long since been blown out. I wondered sometimes if it was my fault. I feared that it was because my mother had a hard time keeping up with all of my rigorous activities and sports at times during school. I was an active girl, played volleyball in the fall, basketball in the winter, ran track and played tennis in the spring and just took up soccer for the summer my freshman year. She was usually there, cheering me on, but lately I noticed that she stopped attending my volleyball games. The season had just started.

I got my drivers’ license last year. That seemed to give both my mom and I more freedom to roam. That’s when I started to feel detached. I felt like my little family of three had been divided. There was me with all of my school activities, friends and boyfriend, then there was my mom with all her lunch-ins with friends and constant re-painting of the living room and then there was my dad and his office. He lived in his office. I didn’t mind it at first – for a long time I didn’t mind, but it was my seventeenth birthday that I started to feel the draining and ripping effects of the broken ties. My parents forgot.

I felt so insulted. How could they just forget? For the past sixteen years (or since I was able to read, anyway), on the day of my birthday, no matter what day of the week, I’d wake up and downstairs on the kitchen table, would be a card in a pink envelope, leaning against a vase with a rose. But on that particular September seventeenth, I woke up, and went downstairs . . . Nothing. I looked on the kitchen table and sort of furrowed my brows, unsure of what to make of it. I seriously searched through the entire house for any trace of a rose or a card. There was nothing. I went to school that day utterly depressed. Luckily, my boyfriend, Josh, was at my locker ready to greet me with a kiss and reservations to my favorite restaurant.

I was so lucky to have Josh. We had been dating for nearly seven months on the day my parents forgot my birthday. He tried to reassure me and say that they probably would have a big surprise for me once I got home. I mumbled something along the lines of a surprise trip to Tahiti would have to have been in order. Josh just gave me a kiss and I went on with my day.

All of my friends remembered my birthday. I got lots of cards and a couple presents – they lifted my spirits a bit. I almost forgot about my parents and lack of a simple card until I was on my drive home. When I finally got inside, there was a note on the table in simple, blue lined loose-leaf paper. My mom was going to dinner with a couple friends. She left a twenty on the table to order pizza.

I went to dinner with Josh and had a great time. He told me to just forget about my parents and to have a good time with him. And I did. That day had gone from bad to good to worse to wonderful and I almost was unable to handle it all. I survived. Josh brought me back home around ten fifteen and gave me a long kiss good night. I thanked him for a great night but he just smiled. Sometimes he’s bad with finding the right words to say. A simple "you’re welcome" would have sufficed, but I wasn’t about to push it. I smiled to myself and walked up to the front door. Fishing for my keys, I unlocked the door and went inside. There, my parents were waiting in the living room. My mother shot up out of her armchair and came towards me like lightning.

"Where have you been?" She asked me quickly, looking at me through stern, tired eyes. My father came up too and stood next to her. There was a considerable amount of distance between them, however.

"I went out to dinner with Josh." I said plainly.

"Why didn’t you call me or leave a note, Bonnie? You can’t just leave and not say anything." My mother sighed almost hopelessly at my apparent stupidity. "Where did you go?"

"Why do you care?" I asked, walking passed them both. My mother was shocked. My father was too, but he didn’t show it. He always wears some mask.

I was always polite to my parents, usually did as told, so that little comment from me was sort of a low blow – they really didn’t know how to respond. I started up the staircase.

"Bonnie!" My mother called. "What has gotten into you?"

"What’s gotten into you?" I asked back, turning around quickly on the white carpet. "It’s like I don’t even exist."

"What are you talking about?"

"You two are never home." I said. "It’s not that I can’t survive without you two there every day, but it’s gotten so out of hand that you’ve completely forgotten about me."

"That’s ridiculous." My father finally spoke up. "Your mother and I have just been very busy and you-"

"Been busy? Been busy with what? Dad, you live at your office! I don’t even expect you to come home at night anymore. Mom’s too busy playing bridge and impressing the neighbors to even remember about my birthday! Both of you forgot."

I could see my father swallow slowly. The bulge of his Adam’s apple rose and fell slowly as my mother’s hand shot up to her mouth. "Oh, Bonnie . . ." she said quietly. I shook my head as she started to advance towards me.

"Don’t talk to me." I said, feeling my throat clamp up. I couldn’t believe I was actually going to cry, but then again, I couldn’t believe they actually forgot my birthday. That day should have been so special to them – I was their only child. They were supposed to love me.

I turned around quickly and ran up to my room. For the first time in my entire life, I slammed the door shut. It sort of felt good to slam the door. I almost felt rebellious.

"Bonnie?" A knock came to my door. It was my dad. What did he want?

"Go away." I croaked out, hugging my pillow tightly. I grabbed the telephone to call Josh.

"Bonnie, let me in." He said, jiggling the door handle that I had locked. First time I ever had to lock my bedroom door, too. I never had to worry about them coming in because they were always too caught up to catch up with me.

"Just leave me alone." I told him. I heard his footsteps ruffle against the carpet away from my bedroom. I punched in the seven numbers I had committed to memory and brought the phone up to my ear. It rang twice.

"Hello?"

"Is Josh there?" I asked his mother.

"Sorry sweetie, he’s taking a shower. Do you want me to tell him to call you back when he’s done?"

"No that’s fine. I’ll just talk to him tomorrow." I said.

"All right. Oh, happy birthday, honey." She said. "Feel any different being seventeen now?"

"Not really." I laughed somewhat dryly.

"Well, good night, Bonnie."

"Good night."

I hung up the phone and sighed. I felt like I wasn’t welcome in my own home. I heard my parents yelling downstairs. I rolled my eyes. It was a sound all too familiar to me. I picked up my phone again and called my friend Dayna. I crossed my fingers and hoped for her to be home.

"Hello?"

"Dayna?" I asked quickly.

"Hey Bon." She said. "What’s up? Isn’t it past your bedtime?"

"Can I spend the night at your house tonight?"

"What?"

"My parents totally forgot about my birthday and now they’re bitching about something downstairs. I just can’t stay here tonight."

"Uh, sure," Dayna was hesitant. "Come over."

"Thank you." I sighed lightly. Dayna was always there for me when I needed her. I was so grateful for my friends. They cared, at least.

I packed a quick bag considering I had to look presentable in the morning for school. I walked down the steps, but stopped at the last step to listen to them argue. I rolled my eyes. I opened the front door and was ready to step foot on the cement outside when my mother yelled my name. I stopped.

"Where on Earth are you going? It’s ten forty-five!"

"I’m going to Dayna’s." I told her.

"No you’re not." She shook her head.

"Why not? It’s not like this house will be any different without me."

"Oh stop it." My father groaned. "Bonnie, there’s nothing we can say about your birthday. It’s the truth that we both forgot. We’re sorry. Now you don’t need to go to your friend’s house to make some point that you’re upset because we know. I apologize for being so busy all of the time but it’s not like this house pays for itself, you know. I have to work to get money to pay the bills and to keep this house, buy you what you want. Don’t take what we have for granted. It’s amazing we haven’t gone bankrupt with your mother constantly having manicures and getting haircuts-"

"Don’t you put this on me, Matthew." My mother scowled at him. "Me getting my hair cut every once in a while has nothing to do with this conversation."

"Nothing?" My father laughed. "How about you tell your daughter that we can’t afford to get her a birthday present because you just had to get your fucking vagina waxed last week. Why don’t you tell her how much money you spent on your dinner this evening? What was it, Liz?"

"Matthew, stop it." She was warning him.

"It’s your fault we’re in such debt, Liz. Look at this house!" He threw his hands up in the air in our spacious white foyer. "We can’t afford this! You buy all these useless knickknacks with money that we could use to pay for the electricity." He grabbed a vase that was sitting on a pedestal near the end of the staircase. "What’s this? Why do we have it? Why did you buy it? What fucking purpose does it serve? Can you eat it? Do you wear it? What the fuck, Liz!" He threw the vase on the marble floor. I watched as it shattered instantly. The sound echoed in my ears ominously.

"Matthew, stop it." She whispered loudly. "Not in front of Bonnie."

"Not in front of Bonnie? Bonnie’s a big girl!" My dad claimed. "She’s seventeen today, remember? I’m sure it’s about time we tell our daughter that we have to move because we can’t afford this house anymore. How about we tell her that we have to sell her car because we can’t even afford the God damned insurance?"

"What are you saying?" I asked quietly.

"We’re bankrupt, Bonnie." My father said, almost comically. "We have absolutely no money whatsoever anywhere."

I shook my head. "What are we supposed to do?"

"You don’t worry about that." My mother told me. "Your father and I will take care of the money, okay?"

"But what if-"

"Just got to Dayna’s tonight."

I glared at her. "Why are you doing this? It’s my problem now too, you know?"

"Bonnie, please,"

"Forget it." I rolled my eyes. "I hate you both." I left the house promptly after.

I couldn’t believe what I had heard. How could I? I didn’t even try to replay it back in my mind because it would just jumble and skew my senses further. As I pulled out of the driveway, I couldn’t believe that they were going to have to sell my car. I couldn’t believe we were bankrupt.

I drove to Dayna’s with the radio loud and my mind on the music. I tried not to think of anything else. Dayna lived about fifteen minutes away from me out in the middle of nowhere, which I found hard to do in Massachusetts for some reason. I stopped at a set of train tracks just as the gates were going down. I shifted the car in park and leaned back in the seat. Trees surrounded me on either side. The red lights blinked in front of me. I couldn’t see much else except shadows and red.

A tapping erupted on the window. I nearly jumped out of my seat at the sound that came so unexpectedly. I turned to the window, but didn’t see anything. I quickly locked the door. With my heart in my throat, my eyes slowly scanned the area around me. I turned the music down. I could hear the train wheels squeaking against the iron rails and I could hear the hum of the car engine. The red flashed in my eyes as I looked straight ahead. I didn’t dare look behind me.

But I had to. Thinking about not looking behind me made me want to look even more. I turned my head slowly. And saw nothing. I took in a deep sigh of relief and closed my eyes. The quick tap came again and my head jerked to the window and there I was met with another set of eyes. I screamed as loud as I knew how and tried to squirm away from the dark eyes that were burning a fierce hole right through me. I saw a set of teeth start to show as the figure cocked a smile. I screamed again as he tried to open the door. It was locked. He jerked at the door again.

"Open the door." He demanded.

I quickly scrambled to find my purse so I could call someone, anyone.

"Unlock it!"

I felt warm tears start to prick at the corners of my eyes as the car started to shake back and forth as the man pulled at the door. He yelled out in frustration. I finally got a grip on my phone and flipped it open as I heard something shatter. It sounded just like the vase in the foyer.

The man used the handle of a pistol to break through the glass. I screamed again and threw my hands over my head for protection. He unlocked the door from the inside and then threw it open.

"Shut up!" He demanded me, grabbing my arm ferociously. I screamed louder and started to pound at his hand but his grip was like iron. He pulled me out of the car even though I clawed and grabbed anything to keep me inside. The train had just run by the crossing and the gates started to go up. The man pinned me up against the car and I thought he was going to rape me. I couldn’t believe it. The thoughts that were going through my head were speeding by so quickly that I passed out, but not before I saw a car stop beside us.

A/N: How was that? Good? Bad? Please review and tell me what you think! Thanks!