I woke up to my parents screeching at each other from downstairs. Again.
I groaned, tucking my most certainly frizzy head under an off-white scratchy pillow. My headphones squashed my ears, rubbing against the two small piercings on my right ear.
Why couldn’t summer be over yet?
They two teenagers in question had started fighting after my older sister died of a drug overdose three years ago. Diane was a bitch. Always selfish, always vain. Call me a terrible sister but I don’t miss her.
My parents think I’ll turn out like her. Sex, drugs and rock ’n roll. Plus the occasional cigarette or two and you got Diane at her best. Or should I say worse?
I want nothing to do with it. My life consists of a refined, perfect, and beautiful schedule.
Wake up at 5:30.
Run until 6:15.
Shower until 6:20.
Pack a bag and eat breakfast.
Feed the gorgeous dog at 6:30.
Let gorgeous dog out at 6:32.
Answer mail and text messages until 6:38.
Brush teeth, hair, and put on shoes.
Leave house at 6:40.
Arrive at school at 6:45.
Tutor people until 7:10.
Attend classes until 3:30.
Run cross country until 5:30. Walk home.
Let dog out at 5:35.
Do homework until 6.
Eat frozen dinner till 6:25.
Finish homework or clean until 7.
Shower till 7:20.
Head to work at 7:30. Work until 12. Arrive home at 12:15.
Sleep if possible. Rinse and repeat.
I don’t mind though. It allows me to be away from the house as much as possible (note, good thing!).
And then summer had to come along and ruin my fabulous schedule.
For the most part, this is how I live. I hadn’t always been this way. I used to party like there was no tomorrow.
Got ya! Nope, me and my frizzy brown hair sat on my butt in my room full of books, avoiding social interactions at all cost.
Not that it concerned either of the adults legally responsible for me.
He was too busy fighting with her. She was struggling to cope with the fact that her daughter died.
Neither of them noticed the fourteen-year-old girl in the corner of the room, wondering why her sister hadn’t left the world sooner.
Eventually, my mom retreated into a nook in her brain, not coming out for anything. My dad constantly left the house, claiming to go to “work” but came back with red marks on his neck, verrryyyyy sly.
And that girl in the corner? I’ve been taking care of myself since. It’s harder to pay the bills because I have to pitch in my own money, but I manage.
This year, I’ll be going into senior year at the local high school. According to everyone, it’s going to be the best year of my life.
I don’t have my hopes up too high.
I don’t like other people. I have a few close friends but for the most part, everyone knows me as ‘the girl whose sister died from an od’. Besides, I like to keep my head down and stay out of trouble
As I looked at my clock to check the time (7:12), I noticed something odd outside my window. For a minute it looked as if there weren’t any cars outside in the streets. I blinked again and they were back.
As I swung my long tan legs over my plain white bed I told myself I was just tired. I put on my fluffy grey slippers, brushed my long honey brown hair.
I looked around my small pink room. Some trophies and medals, a few pictures of friends here and there, and my prized possession, a pair of shoes signed by Kenenisa Bekele.
This dusty pink needs to dance on out, I thought to myself as I put on leggings and a jacket from one of my race comps.
I made my bed, carefully arranging the plain duvet and pillows and headed downstairs to find my parents sitting at the table as if they were expecting me.
“Aspen,” my father said, “We need to talk.”
I sat down, studying the man who provided the sperm to make me.
“Your mother and I think it would be a good idea to get a divorce.” He started to say something else and then paused.
“Great,” I said, not being sarcastic in the slightest, “you leave, I’ll stay with Mom.” I tried to catch her blue eyes, which she gave to me. Along with pretty much everything else.
When he looked at me in shock, I explained. “Honestly, did you really think I didn’t know you were going to do this? You guys have been fighting for so long, it’ll be nice to have some peace and quiet for once, as well as a properly cooked meal.”
My dad looked at my mom and I had a sinking feeling that I was wrong.
“Actually, your mom and I think it would be a good idea for her to have some time alone with a counselor.”
“What?” Nope. Not accepting it.
“You are going to live with me until the doctor says Sandi’s stable.”
I hadn’t heard my dad use my mom’s first name since Diane died. It was always ‘woman’ or just ‘you’
“This is a joke, right?” I laughed nervously. I was not for the idea of moving.
“No, Aspen,” my dad said with a sigh, running his hand through his dark brown hair streaked with grey, “it’s not a joke. We leave in two weeks. Make your preparations now.” And on that happy note, he got up and left the room.
I looked at my mother who had become even frailer than I had remembered.
“It’ll be a good change, sweety. You work too hard as it is and you need a break. Besides, I’m well taken care of with the doctor” She winked at me and made a quick succession of vulgar gestures.
I snorted into my shirt, trying to conceal my laughter. A glimmer of the woman my mother once was peaked through the shell she had encased herself in.
Ya, she'll be fine.
“Come, Aspen Olivia Davis, let’s make us some un-freezer shitted on out food dinner.”
I shook my head in amazement at this queen I call 'mom'.