Throw Back Thursday

Five

I trudged through the door at exactly five o' four. Wow, something I said actually rhymes! I'm a poet and I didn't even know it! I never thought that would happen. Anyways, I trudged through the door to see my parents looking frustrappointedly at me. (Yes, that is a word. It's a mix between frustrated and dissapointing.) God, I was glad to get home. (Uh, no. Super amount of sarcasm there.)

Anyway, I slipped my bag off of my shoulder and onto the stair so slickly that I even surprised myself. Parents. Still. Looking. Oh.

"Liz, we need to talk." Dad said practically a milli-second before mum. Why can't I just go back to being a baby, when no one expected anything of me? That would be lush right now.

I followed their echoing footsteps, literally, and we (after a minute or so) sat down at the coffee table which had been in the dining room since yesteryear. The coffee maker churned and simultaneously butterflies somersaulted in my stomach.

"Yes?" I looked up trying to pout like when I was a kid. Back then, that pout would always get me out of trouble. Damn, those were the good days.

"Your principal called us." Shit. This always ends in a telling off, even when it's seriously not needed. What could I have possibly done now, I mean, I haven't like, murdered somebody or something.... Haven't lied or done something I haven't known, maybe? But then again, that's always the case with parents. Mad at you even when you actually haven't done anything. Whopee!

"And he says that you've been underacheiving" Have I hit the snooze button, 'cause I'm feeling tired. "And that you're insecure and that you're refusing to divulge something about love. Feelings. Feelings. For a guy! Why haven't you said anything?!"

I was debating whether to cry or just be paralysed in fear. In a split second choice, it turns out that anger (and the expression of a wide open jaw) won. Briskly, trying to seek attention, I rose from my seat. "See, this... This is why I wish that I was an orphan or a messed up kid or something." I pretended to stroke an imaginary beard (this is my sarcastic strategy, wink wink!), "Oh wait. I am! Thanks for raising me, guys." Then I decided to walk away. And slam my bedroom door. And cry. A lot. Why does everything in my life have to turn to crap?

Feelings for a God damn guy. Could the school actually give me a private love - life? Or a life at all? Ever since I was birthed, my life has been a total bloody hell. Okay, that is a slight overreaction. But the fact that the principal has no problem telling my mum (most probably my mum, or my dad, or both of them - eugh.) that I am having  "troubles". I guess the word "privacy" lost all of its meaning a very long time ago. I rebel because no one notices me. Not because I want to be like this! I'd be normal if someone would just love me!! I'm not saying in any way that I'd throw myself at any guy, 'cause that's having the attributes of a prostitute. Minus the whole money making part. Would someone want to take me out or say, "I love you as my daughter"? Maybe I should run away....*Cue light bulb filled with ideas.*