Defining Lines

Defining Lines- Part 3

*~*Dante*~*

I return home to my silent home, just as I had expected it to be. My mother was asleep on the couch with Amara by her side. The television was still on, playing back reruns of Jeopardy.

I sigh at the pathetic sight, as that was the only way I could describe it. The house of course had not been clean and my mother couldn't handle the responsibilities as a single mother today, just like every other day. The fact that she couldn't put a five year old to bed at a descent hour was quite honestly pitiable, but I can't ignore the fact that it isn't her fault, she's just lost.

Yeah, we were the stereotypical Hispanic family; the one with the distraught mother whose husband walked out on his baby and his son for another girl and was never heard from again.

"Wake up, babe." I whisper pulling Amara into my arms. Her dark brown eyes flutter open for an instant before she drifts off again, resting her head on my shoulder as I carry her to her bedroom down the hall.

"What time is it?" She asks quietly as I pull her faded pink sheet over her small body.

"Late," I whisper sitting on the edge of her bed. I ran my fingers over her forehead gently before kissing it lightly. "Go back to sleep babes."

I stand up and pull the door to her too small bedroom quietly shut behind me and venture back to my mother. I grab one of the knit blankets off one of our armchairs and drape it over her passed out body before continuing to my own room.

If they didn't need me to be here, I would never be home. That is not the case of course. Someone has to make sure Amara is brought up the right way, and that surely is not my mother. She is going to be a looker, that's for sure. That's why I have to stay here. I need to protect her, help her, and make sure she realizes she could probably make something of her self. Make sure she knows she can't let it all slip away. She could so easily fall down the path I chose, and to think of her ...

I shiver at the thought of my little sister with guys like me. To think of her wearing a tight blank dress and heels like Esme, throwing herself at any guy she sees.

Never, I won't let it happen.

So therefore I am stuck here. High school is over and I got that diploma no one ever thought I would and now it's time to find work close here. I don't get to go to some fancy college and get a job that will actually benefit me in life. Why would I get that?

Out of all of us, Sebastian and I were the ones who graduated, yet he was the only one who was going to get the hell out of this shit hole.

Secretly, I envied him- I think we all did.

We all were given the same opportunities as him, yet somehow he just made it to the top. He got a scholarship at Charleston for Christ's sake!

I push these thoughts away, not in the mood for the clutter of my unfortunate future. Yet all that was left in my mind was Esme and Rayne. Sure, I thought of Esme all the time, but Rayne, Rayne I could not explain why I was thinking of her.

Maldito! She looked good in that bikini. Even though it was dark, I had seen those curves before and even in the moonlight she could leave me stunned.

But Esme...She could really fuck with my head, for lack of better words.

I curse myself silently, finally able to register the nights events as I lay in bed alone. How do I let her get me? I had gone to talk to her with a purpose, and I end up wound tightly around that fake freshly acrylic manicured finger of hers.

A better question, why was she texting Alan? Why didn't I ask anything before, of course she was going to go out again when I left, but Alan? Her best friends' boyfriend? My best friend?