Where Dreams Lay

[one]

[one] "every time i try to be myself, it comes out wrong like a cry for help" -demi lovato

   

     "Mommy! Where's my favorite juice?!"

    "Mom, I need help with my breakfast!"

    "Mom—"

Finally she shuts them up, "Okay, okay, I'm coming!"

    Mom walked into the kitchen with her hair all messed up and clothes that weren't put on properly. She goes over to Casey—my little sister—and gives her a big kiss on her left cheek. "Honey," Mom starts, while placing Casey's lose bangs behind her ears, "You finished your juice yesterday. We don't have anymore."

    Oh no. Not another tantrum. Please say she won't have another tantrum . . .

    "But . . . but, I love that juice mommy," Casey displays her puppy dog eyes and looks at Mom, "what will I drink now?"

    "Milk, Casey. Milk. You needs some calcium in the mornings." Mom walks over to the fridge and starts to take out the milk carton.

    "And you Paris, are you having breakfast this morning?" She turns to me, and I lift my face up from my novel.

    "Um, no . . . you know I don't eat break—"

    "Now, now, Paris. You know that breakfast is the most important meal of the day. Aren't you going to set a good example for your brothers and sister?"

    Oh great. So it's going to be that kind of morning.

    I groan as I grab a muffin from the container sitting on out crowded counter and wave it in front of her, "Look! A muffin, can't go wrong with that now can you mother?"

    "Mom! I still need you to sign my permission form for my school trip next week!" Luke storms into the kitchen—with no shirt, I might want to add—and holds out a paper to Mom, who's currently pouring Casey's milk.

    "Luke, where's your shirt?" I ask.

    "None of your business bum hole!" he screams at me, making a facial expression I have to laugh at.

    "Luke Theodore Anderson! Language please!" Mom yells.

    Just then, Dad comes in with a coffee mug in his right hand, and in the other, the daily newspaper, "Morning everyone!" He exclaims. Casey runs and jumps into his arms, on the brink of knocking his mug over.

    I mumble good morning back while trying desperately hard to eat my banana muffin without gaging. I don't like eating at seven o'clock in the morning, but I look to be doing so thanks to you know whom.

    Dad walks up to me, after setting Casey back into her chair just as I'm about to leave, "Paris."

    "Father." I respond.

    "It is a fine morning, now isn't it?"

    "Yes it is. "

    "Then you will be walking to school, correct?" he puts on a stern look and I can't tell if he's serious or not. My father doesn't understand sarcasm sometimes.

    I push my bag back up to my shoulders and hesitate a little, "Yes. Of course."

    Just when Dad is about to respond, Mom barges in, "Oh stop you too! Paris, he's just messing with you." She turns to me and says.

    Joey—Casey's twin brother—swallows his last bite of cereal and laughs, "Oh Daddy, you're so silly."

    Casey joins with him and next thing you know, all three of them: Luke, Casey and Joey are jumping on top of him, hugging every inch they can. Mom just starts to chuckle and I try to boot out, but unfortunately catch the view of Mom and Dad sharing a kiss just as he sets them all down.