Ambers pov:

Placing the last tube of chapstick with the others, I smile in content, finally being able to look at the finished masterpiece.

"That took forever." I mutter to myself, looking through all of the chapsticks I have collected over the year or two.

Thank the lord it took Chaptick two to three years to expire.

It makes sense though, do you know how hard it is to finish a chapstick?

I always end up losing them before running out, it's actually depressing.

Hold on, maybe I should tell you who I am before you start to think that I am insane.

I'm Amber, and my addiction is...

Okay wait!!

It's not like, that I swear!

I wouldn't use the word addiction, more like...

A little more than a liking, or an obsession that may come off as an addiction.

But they are different words....

So they must have different meanings.

Obviously.

My liking for collecting chapstick didn't just come out of nowhere though.

I promise you, I didn't just wake up one day and decide that I wanted to start collecting chapstick for no particular reason.

It was a turn of events that made me into the person I am today.

Looking above my collection of chapsticks, I stare at the picture of my mom just weeks before it happened.

She was beautiful.

Actually, the best mother any child could have asked for.

She put others before herself every single day of her life.

Even if that meant risking her health and...

Herself.

My mom was a strong, brave, and determined woman who deserved life itself...

Losing her was like if the sun decided to never come up.

Darkness, loss, and emptiness.

Me and my dad...

We struggled.

Not seeing her cheerful smile everyday, or making us happy in any situation, really took its tool on us.

You never realize how much you need someone until they are taken away from you.

Nature made its decision, we just wish we could have at least been ready for the grief and sadness that came with it.

Dad and I knew that we had each other, but mom was just one of a kind.

She's my inspiration.

Since she passed, after awhile, we somewhat got our lives back on track.

My dad learned how to be a single parent, with that being balancing is job with taking care of me and the house.

I was proud of him, he took on the responsibilities of fulfilling the job of two parents head on, and I couldn't have wished for a better dad.

I on the other hand, after my mom's passing, spent a lot of time alone just thinking in my room.

With that, I was able to think for myself more. I spent countless nights thinking about my future, and where or what I wanted to be.

I got to focus on myself.

After recalling all the memories of my mother, I realized what I wanted in life.

I wanted to be like her.

I want to always have a smile on my face and put others before myself just like she did.

One day, deciding to make that change, I contacted some of the ladies that mom used to know who worked at the children's hospital.

I got the chance to help so many kids who were struggling and put smiles on their faces.

In fact, I still do. Although it brings in some money, it was never about that.

"Honey, are you heading to bed? I know you have school tomorrow..." my dad knocks three times before opening my bedroom door, while instantly smiling at the finished collection of chapsticks.

"Oh you finally finished! I thought I'd be a grandpa before the time you finished." He jokes, walking over to where I was sitting and ruffling the hair on top of my head.

"What do you mean by grandpa? I don't know what alternate reality you are living in but..." I laugh as he nudges my shoulder.

"That's right, they would have to get through me before even thinking about laying a finger on you."

"Just because you are the boxing coach, it doesn't make you seem more intimidating."

"That's what they all say sweet child, that's what they all say." He grins, while I just roll my eyes, staring at all the chapsticks again.

Gosh, I don't even know how much I collected, but there were definitely way too much to count.

"The set up reminds me so much of how your mother used to do it." He says, looking up at the picture And smiling, while I do the same.

"When I tell some of the kids at the children's hospital that I collect chapstick because it reminds me of someone, they think I'm insane." I grin, while dad laughs at me.

"Well, I wouldn't blame them. The first time I went over your mothers' parents house for a dinner, I was actually kinda scared of all the chapsticks she had."

"Did you think she was insane?" I laugh at him as he nods his head.

"No doubt, but I guess everyone is insane in their own... special way." He draws out, making me laugh at him again.

"That, I can agree with."

"I know, I'm just wise like that."

"That's what oldness does to you, makes you wise-..."

"I'm not old!"

"Mhhhhhm."

"I'm not."

"Sorry, the grey hair was telling me other wise."

"You know, I hope someone makes fun of you when you are old and wrinkly."

"Like you?"

"Shhhhh anyways!! I don't want to keep you up any longer, it's past your bedtime." He says, patting my shoulder.

"Dad, I'm sixteen turning seventeen this year, do I seriously need a bedtime." I jokingly whine.

"What's wrong with getting a healthy amount of sleep according to the ever so magnificent google search bar." He says over his shoulder, walking out of my bedroom.

"Everything, just everything."