Daisy isn't a Superhero

Dream On

I sat up with a yawn and rubbed my eyes. I'd had strange dreams last night but now I couldn't remember them.

I hated that feeling.

Suddenly I caught sight of the faded eagles t-shirt I was still wearing and slapped my hand over my mouth in shock.

That's right.... Yesterday was a HELL of a day.

I jumped up and checked the time frantically. It read 7:38 am.

Shit.

My dad was going to kill me. Looks like today would be another no makeup day because I was supposed to have been awake and getting ready for the past 38 minutes.

I threw my blanket onto my bed and changed into jeans and a dark green sweatshirt. It was currently hot as hell outside but I knew I still had bruises on my arms and I didn't want my parents to march into GHA headquarters again and demand that I get checked out by staff there.

I'd just sweat it out.

I didn't even have time to question the events of yesterday or brush my teeth. I sprinted down the hall and slid into the kitchen.

My mom was already there making coffee while Mary leaned against the counter and looked at a plate with half a slice of avocado toast, mushy strawberries, and a pile of arugula.

"Good morning," I said breezily.

My mom looked at me but didn't say anything. She looked upset and tired.

I glanced at Mary but she was staring too hard at the plate to see me.

I started to unload the dishwasher, trying to be as quiet as possible. I really didn't want to be the one to make my mom snap this morning.

My dad came downstairs with Johnny and said good morning to Mary and me and then made himself an omelet.

Johnny grabbed a glass of water, grinned sheepishly at me, and then shuffled off to the office to get his online homework done at my mom's desk.

I finished unloading the dishwasher and loaded it back up with my dad's frying pan and bowls.

My mom smiled quietly at me and then handed me a cup of black coffee and a plate with the other half piece of avocado toast, mushy strawberries, and a pile of arugula.

I took it and forced a smile. My stomach growled loudly in protest. I'd skipped dinner the day before and all I wanted now was a huge helping of scrambled eggs, toast, and bacon.

"Do you mind if I fry up an egg too?" I asked my mom, setting my plate down on the counter.

"That's fine," she sighed, "do whatever you want."

I took my dad's pan out of the dishwasher and cracked an egg into it. It sizzled and popped and I sprinkled salt and pepper over it and waited about 2 minutes.

Then I slid it on top of the avocado toast.

My mom stared at it sadly and then pushed her plate of berries and arugula onto the counter.

"I'm not hungry any more," she said quietly.

She went into her office with her shoulders sagging and Mary and my dad stared at me reproachfully.

"Why'd you do that?" asked Mary in a low voice, "you know she's sensitive right now."

"Next time, eat what you're given." said my dad, "that was very disrespectful."

"Dad," I protested, "I'm 17, I think I'm allowed to eat my own food."

"Exactly, you're 17," said my dad frowning disapprovingly, "you're an immature little girl and you should do as you're told. Now my omelet's going to get cold while I try to get your mom to eat. I hope you're proud of yourself, Daisy."