It's Complicated (On Hold)

Chapter One

Copyright All Rights Reserved to lmfaochristinee

Chapter One

~ Twelve Years Later ~

Adrienne's POV

I absolutely hate when my family wakes me up, it was a long night and all I want to do is ignore them... but I can't. I'm hearing a knock, followed by some mumbling.

"What? I can't hear you, speak up!" I pull my head from under my pillow and try to concentrate on the voice.

"Adri, mom needs you!" Hector says, practically yelling. God, he’s annoying. I sometimes wonder how we’re related. He’s got these eyes that make him look slightly Asian. I guess he got his eyes from my mom, she’s got those slight Asian-like eyes, yet she’s Ecuadorian.

"Damn, Hector, not so loud!" I spat right back. I toss in bed and snuggle up to my sheets again. I am done with my freshman year of college. Done with Finals, no more teachers, and no more waking up at the crack of dawn! Thank God!

I don’t think I’ve celebrated that much in my life, but I’m glad I did, but having to be forcibly woken up in the morning sucks! I am so not a morning person, it's not even funny. My family sometimes calls me Sleeping Beauty, because that's all I ever want to do. I contemplate whether to get up willingly or wait to get yelled at.

Knowing that my mother will come looking for me and whip my ass if I don't get up, I slowly get up to attend to my mom. If anyone were to see me right now, I’d probably get mistaken for an actual zombie. I find her in the kitchen doing God knows what to her poor iPad. The abuse the thing has to go through… poking, stabbing, shaking…

My mom has always been the short one out of my brother, father and I. Brown short hair, brown eyes, and she somewhat resembles a thirty year old and she’s a lot older than that. I’m surprised the stress my family and I have put her through the years hasn’t shown up on her face.

She’s always has been the strongest one. No matter how many times romance stories and those television shows tell me that the husband is the strongest and the bravest, I disagree, at least when it comes to my mom.

She puts up with all of us, our mood swings, forgetfulness, laziness etc. There are a lot of things I have done that I’m not proud of, but I feel that I’m the closest to her, at least with the pain and the stress of a household.

I began taking care of my house since I was about ten years old. She has always been convinced that in order to be ready for marriage and having a family, it will be a lot easier if I learned it all back then.

"Que?" I ask my mother.

"Como que que?" giving me The Look, or ‘I can’t believe you, I’m going to slap you’ look. I hate that look and it usually tells me I will get in trouble if I don't correct myself.

"Perdon. Señora, how may I help you?" I give her my 'sorry' look and she says, "That's better."

Sometimes being Hispanic has its disadvantages. My mom is one hundred percent Ecuadorian, and my dad is one hundred percent Colombian. They just love to make my life a living hell. My parents are too overprotective and annoying and sometimes I wish we were never Spanish in the first place. I'm not saying being Spanish is the cause of all of my problems, but it does make me suffer here and there. Traditions, respect, morals blah blah blah... just a whole lot of things that some Spanish families have, that we have to abide to.

"Help me with this. No entiendo." She points to her screen.

I look at it, fix the minor problem and tell her, "Ma, you just have double-click the home button, press the little red mark on the Facebook app to refresh it. If you do that, Facebook shouldn't crash down on you." I don't know how many times I have told her this and I have a feeling this won't be the last.