Private Message Read Online Free PDF Page A

digger, like the last girlfriend.
    Caroline excitedly tells us all about this summer fashion program she applied to in New York City. Apparently she would get to help out a few up-and-coming designers by fetching materials, making calls, and sorting mail. This is apparently huge to Caroline. She has always been a fashion freak; since she was three she was picking out her own clothes and trying new things. By eight, she was designing clothes and began learning how to sew. Now, at fifteen, her whole closet is full of her creations, and I'll even admit they aren't half bad (and I'm so happy they're nothing like the girls at the bars wear!)
    "So Benjamin how's the magazine doing?" Dad asks. He has always supported my interest in music. Hell, he told me all about the old-school punk shows he would sneak into as a teen in London. He even bought me my first bass. But expected me to do that kind of thing in my free time and ultimately I think the bass was a bribe to get me to even go to college. Eventually Dad grudgingly accepting my choice to study writing, Dad wanted me to follow in his footsteps. To be a real career man, a doctor like him. This was always a sore subject that usually ended with us ignoring my career of choice or me storming out in a rage.
    "Really good, I have a few shows coming up to cover and I'll be interviewing the bands." I love my job and I know it shows on my face. I am proud of what a success the magazine has become. And even when I'm not set up for work I still go to as many rock shows as I can.
    "You know Ben, when are you going to come to realize that writing about a band for a column isn't going to last you your whole life. Eventually your boss will want to hire someone younger, more up with the changing music? That they will let you go without a second thought? Then what? What will you do for the rest of your life to fall back on?" My Dad rambles the same speech at least every other month.
    I suck in a deep breath preparing to recite my typical lines on the subject. "Dad, I don't know how long this will last or where it will take me. That's the adventure in it. I don't want to be hog tied down in a position that not only brings amazing outcomes for your patients, but so much heartache and devastation. I can't do that to good people. To have that much trust set in your hands, with the risk of messing up and killing someone, I... I just couldn't handle that."
    He looks like he's about to set his standing argument when I finish what I want to say, "I may not write for Tones forever and that's fine. But I will always write and I hope it's about music, but if not that's fine, because I'll still be doing what I love."
    I look from my father who is starting to stand to leave, just as he always does, when my eyes meet Caroline's. She looks blank and her eyes teary. "Caroline? Are you alright?" I ask my sister.
    She blinks, rubs her wrists and nods at me before replying, "Yeah, I'm fine, just a lot of stuff on my mind. School stuff you know." Her voice is soft and dull. Non-Caroline. She darts her eyes to our father, who is looking at her. "Dad doesn't want me to go to New York this summer." She states.
    That's all it took for dad to blow up "You know why that is Caroline! Do you know how many people actually get jobs in the fashion field? Where they can make an honest living? Hmm? Not many, I can tell you that. Now if you were to focus more on your science studies, well now that's where you could excel."
    "I don't want to be a doctor Dad." She responds to our father with a lifeless tone. It breaks my heart, because I know exactly what she's going through with him. Hell that's why I rebelled so much back in London. When mum passed he got real strict.
    Not being able to stand seeing her take his crap anymore tonight I stand, "Let's go sit out back for a few, it's nice out." I suggest. She stands and we make our way out the patio doors in the kitchen to the large deck out back.
    She nods and wipes a single tear