It was only the second week of summer, and I was already bored out of my mind. I loved living in North Carolina, but sometimes it went to show how little there was to do in my town. Like now, when the only fun things to do were go to the pool with the other three hundred people or so that thought it was a good idea to go, or just sit and do nothing.
I couldn't read - I'd already read all three books I owned over ten times each. I couldn't go to the library to get more - It was undergoing renovation. Hell, I couldn't even hang out with my friends. Or friend, I should say. She had moved to Chicago as soon as school ended and hadn't called me since, even though I'd called her a million times in hopes of a response. All I could hope for was that she wasn't dead. She probably just got her phone taken away, which wasn't unusual for her.
"ELISE YOUR BITCH ATE MY FUCKING SHOE!!" I heard my little sister, Starla suddenly scream.
"Shit," I mumbled, knowing that I was likely going to get in trouble with my aunt and uncle when they got home.
Rolling off of my bed and stumbling to my feet, I made my way out my bedroom door and down the stairs. Rupert, my brown lab whom I had taken off the streets when he was a small puppy (It took a lot of convincing for my aunt and uncle to let me keep him) was sitting guiltily next to the couch in the living room.
"Why, Rupe, why?" I asked him. He just whined in response.
"What's the damage?" I asked Starla, who was a few feet behind Rupert by the coat closet where we kept our shoes.
She held up her ballet shoes and I could see that they had been shredded to the point where they couldn't be used properly.
"So?" She questioned.
"Well," I started, hoping I could do something about this that wouldn't get my ass whooped when my aunt and uncle got home. If it had been any other pair of shoes, they would have just grounded me. But these were the ballet shoes that she had gotten from them for Christmas, and I knew the slippers weren't cheap. "I didn't leave the closet door open, which means that -,"
"It doesn't matter if you left the fucking door open, cause he's your dog. You are responsible for him, and for the destruction he caused!" She wailed.
"Stop with the cursing!" I snapped. "You curse like a dog and you're only twelve! Also you called Rupe a bitch a minute ago, and a bitch is a female dog, which he isn't, so get your insults straight."
"I can say whatever I FUCKING WANT!" Starla screamed. "When Auntie and Uncle get home, I hope they send your awful ass to HELL!" With that said, she stormed past me and up to her room, giving Rupert a kick as she strode by.
Rupert gave me another sad look. "I can't deal with you now," I told him, grabbing his collar and dragging him through the house to the back yard. I left him out there and went up to my room where I face planted on the bed. There was no way my aunt or uncle would leave me alive after they found out about Starla's ballet slippers.
To run away, or not to run away. That is the question.
I figured a snack would help jumpstart my brain and possibly help me think up some options, so I headed back downstairs as quietly as possible. The ballet slippers had upset Starla, so it was likely that she would be in a bad mood for a while, maybe even a few days. The best thing to do was to avoid her at all costs.
After I managed to tiptoe downstairs without making a single noise, I made my way over to the pantry which I opened, searching for a snack. My eyes quickly found the Oreos on the top shelf, and I grabbed them without hesitation.
After shoving several into my mouth and sliding the package back onto the shelf, I made my way over to the fridge to see if there was anything good in there for me to devour. It was then that I spotted the calendar that was on the fridge, pinned there by a butterfly magnet.
Friday, June 29th
Party at the Wilson's @ 8
My mouth fell open when I suddenly remembered about the Wilson's party that was supposed to be tonight. Auntie and Uncle had been talking about it for a while - they were both thrilled about being invited since it was a yearly party that they had never been invited to before.
I could see my escape from punishment (at least for a day or two) laid out before me. Auntie and Uncle would get home, rush upstairs before Starla could tell them about the ballet slippers, and spend every moment before 7:45 or so getting ready for the party. Then they would rush out the door, probably telling us something along the lines of "make dinner for yourselves" and then slam the door in our faces. Later, around two in the morning or so, they'd come back home, probably very drunk, and spend the next day or two trying to recover from the party, giving me time to figure out what I had to do to escape punishment.
My plans of raiding the fridge forgotten, I waltzed back to my room before deciding to waltz back downstairs and let Rupert back in. Oh, tonight sure would be interesting.