for now

.01

I wake up to the sound of my alarm ringing loudly. I hit it once and it doesn't stop, I hit it again, and it stops all at once. The alarm is pretty old, it was gifted to me when I was two or three, but I still keep it for good luck.

"Ivy, are you up?" I hear across the hall.

"Yeah, I am." I shout to mom. She opens the door and picks up the small pile of clean clothes that are on my floor throwing them my way. I've learned to shield myself with my pillow each time we do this, it's almost a fun game we play every morning.

"You're so lazy, clean up after yourself for once," Before responding I look her up and down to see the lit cigarettes smoke behind her back, she already knows what I'm thinking and says, "I told you, I'm trying to quit, get up or you're walking."

I look at my clock that's two hours behind and get up. For a few seconds I stare at the ground, I know moping around in my worthless agony doesn't do me any good, so I walk to my closet and pick out my last clean hoodie. The letters are faded away, the "HOPE" that was originally printed on the fabric looks more like a "HUPl" now, not that I mind either way. I throw on a pair of my dads really big and old Levi jeans and some random sneakers Charlie bought me, I don't deserve them. I grab my book bag and an old beanie and walk out my room. I'm half way downstairs when I realize I left my door open, whatever, I don't have the energy to go back.

"Mom, can I borrow a 20?" I ask politely, she usually budges when I'm nice.

"For what?"

"Food. I can't keep eating bread and water for dinner, they literally don't give us anything else at Rocky's." I tell her.

"Whatever Ivy, you don't need to eat as much as you think anyway, take a 10."

She walks out the door and I grab a 10 and change from the junk drawer, I grab the keys and her pack of cigarettes. I take a few out and stuff them in my pocket, she forgot to bring the two most valuable items she owns with her, no way she'll notice a few missing cigarettes. I catch up to her and place both the keys and cigarettes into her hand, "Can I quit working? I can become a stripper or something, I bet they'd feed me." I say, she nudges my shoulder and laughs, it makes me happy when she laughs. As much as our relationship is full of faults, she's my mom and I love her, I don't like when she's unhappy.

"You'll make less than you do now, you suck at dancing," She hops into the front seat and tries putting the radio on, the broken radio that is, "To be a stripper you have to be at least a bit more social than you are, go out or something." We drive to school in silence.

She was right, I hadn't been out in awhile. There were a lot of parties every weekend that I would constantly be invited to but I always felt that there was no use. When I was growing up I used to love being around people, and even more, I loved the thought of being around people when I was alone. I've changed since then.

"I feel like it will be useless you know, going out, getting high, coming home, getting yelled at." I say as my phone vibrates, I open my lock screen and see a notification from Instagram,

"kaijean posted on his story for the first time in awhile."

I could hear my moms voice blend into the silent background as I stared at my phone for what felt like an eternity. I hadn't talked to Kai in weeks, last I heard he was back at Woodhull's Psychiatric Ward. He's always in and out of there. Sometimes I feel like he treats it as a psychological game, just not sure who's his prey.

"Ivy, are you listening?" My mom said interrupting my thought. I don't respond, only nodding.

"What is it?" She said looking down at my finger hovering over the glowing circle titled "kaijean". I didn't know whether I should see what he posted or lock my phone and forget about it.