JUST AS A HEADS UP, THIS WAS MY FIRST EVER STORY. THE PLOT ISN'T VERY DEEP, AND IT IS VERY SHORT... BUT MY OTHER STORIES ARE MUCH MORE IN-DEPTH. THANK YOU FOR YOUR TIME. PLEASE ENJOY...
"Home." I hated the word. What's a home? I didn't live in a home. I live in a crappy apartment—the third crappy apartment this year, to be exact. Mom recently broke up with boyfriend number one million. So we moved, again, to start from scratch. She is definitely in her " I'm single and miserable mood."
Another new school district and another new apartment. Luckily for me, it was late August, so for once, I was starting school with everyone else. Being the new kid didn't bother me anymore. I learned a long time ago to stand up for myself and not let others put me down. Any hurt I felt, I kept on the inside.
I rolled out of bed and hit the floor, running. I already had my outfit picked for the first day, so time to shower and apply my makeup. I love being prepared.
It puts me at ease to have plans, and when my plans get messed up, I usually panic or get super anxious. This morning was all planned out, and I would be out of the apartment by 7:15, at the latest.
The new apartment was just down the street from my new high school. Once this senior year was finally over, I would be able to put my plan of becoming a nurse into action. Nursing is a good choice. I knew it was reliable and paid well. I wasn't too concerned with the hard work that would be involved. I loved keeping my mind busy.
I got ready on autopilot. I had my routine down, and I was pretty skilled at makeup application. Something Shannon aka mom, always stressed was appearance. She always wanted to impress the men around. I did not understand her constant need for male companionship. Why wasn't I enough to make her happy? "Dumb woman."
I looked at my appearance, pleased with myself. I had wavy light brown hair and a curvy athletic figure. I was proud of these features. I wasn't proud of my eyes. My eyes were big, which was good, and they were framed with thick, naturally curved long lashes. They were mostly brown which, I liked, but the left eye had a big blue patch in it. I wished they were just brown. My left eye made me feel like a freak sometimes. Constantly being the new kid meant constantly hearing people comment about my "cool" eye every time I changed schools.
Finally done staring at myself, I head out of my room and down the hall towards the front door.
Mom's slight throat-clearing had me halting at the front door. She looked bored having to talk to me. She was leaning against the kitchen counter with her wavy brown hair up in a ponytail. My mom could be my twin. The only differences were her frown lines and my weird eye.
Suddenly I felt terrible for her; she looked lonely. I quickly dismissed the thought. She frequently made me feel lonely, so why should I worry about her loneliness.
"I will be at the casino when you get out of school," she says while taking a drag from her morning cigarette.
I cringe. I wanted to rip the nasty stick out of her hands. Gross things, they were going to kill her one day. I felt like I was her parent more than she was mine. She had me at seventeen and, in my opinion, never really grew up. I wanted to mutter "figures," but I didn't. My mother and I also share a temper. If she heard my sarcastic remark, it would mean a fight which would result in me being late.
So instead, I say, "Okay, I have a shift tonight anyways, have fun." I got out and looked at my watch, 7:12, perfect timing. I walk to school with my head up and my body full of as much confidence as I can muster. I wish my mom would spend time with me, but I wasn't going to beg for attention scraps from my own mother.
Sorry, I have to stop here until later. My son is throwing a two-year-old tantrum.