Where Dreams Lay

[four]

[four] "honestly, I wanna see you be brave" -Sara Bareilles

I've had enough. It's gotten way too out of hand now and I desperately wish I could do something about it. However, whenever I try, she just spits back yet another rude insult and I'm left speechless, not sure what to say. Her words hurt. They really do-especially when she makes fun of my family. When she said to me last week, "Oh Paris, I saw you at the mall the other day. With your little brother and sister, what, you don't have any friends to go shopping with?"

I went because Casey out-grew her sneakers and both dad and mom were working that night. I went because Luke needed to go to the toy store to buy his friend a birthday gift. I went because I know my mother needs help with these things. I went because I care.

And she'll never understand this.

Gym class has been torture for me. So when I went afterwards to change out of my sweaty gym shorts, my clothes were gone. Gone, as in not in my locker and brutally trashed in the garbage bin. And to make matters worse-they were wet-so I was left twenty minutes after class in the change room. Standing underneath the dryer, trying to dry them. It had Lindsay's name all over it, her and those three dogs that follow her every move. After all, they left a note in my jeans pocket. The second one of the day:

Really? Wal-Mart jeans? We did you a favor, hun.

I rushed out of that change room with somewhat dry clothes and raced out of school, not caring who saw me. Who looked at me and thought the words I always think they say, "Loser," "Weirdo," and so on. I wanted to leave everything-this school, this neighborhood. This life. There was nothing to live for. I couldn't understand why I was a person who could be affected by small acts of bullying. The only reason I went home everyday was to be with my family, all five of them. I don't care what anyone says I will always be there for them, it's just tough when they think they know me, and every time I try to explain . . . it never works out the way I planned.

Mom came home early today, I can tell by the silver Toyota parked in the driveway. I walk into my house and see Casey and Joey sitting at the table, munching on baby carrots. Luke is lying down on the carpet in the family room. You may think that it is weird and unusual that he's just lying on his back, looking up at the ceiling, but trust me, this isn't the first time, so I'm used to his odd ways.

I greet mom when she sees me walk into the kitchen. She's on her laptop, probably doing work since she left early.

"Hey honey how was school?" she asks me, taking glances at me then back to her computer.

I hesitate, trying to forget what happened today . . . or any day. I lie and send her a forced smile, "It was good. I got a new science project, we have to work on it with partners so I'll have to stay late after school some time next week."

"Okay Paris, but not on Thursday, Luke has a birthday party, I might need you to take him,"

I nod and walk up to Casey, right before she shoves a carrot into her mouth, I snatch it from her little fingers, and eat it myself.

"No! Parrriiiisss!" she wines. I honestly thought she would laugh like usual, but I guess she really wanted that carrot.

"Mommy! Paris ate my baby carrot and now I have to get another one but there's no more and I needed to eat some because I love-"

"Casey there's more in the fridge, I'll get you some more in a minute." Mom interrupts her, not taking her eyes off her laptop.

"Here Casey," Joey slides over his bowl of carrots, "We can share."

I almost die the second he says this because they fight all the time, and to see him be nice is so cute.

"I'll be in my room," I say as I head upstairs.