Little Brat

Part 2

We sat on the chair having dinner on a serene evening, the lights from the street shining everyone's dull visage through the ajar window. Mom and Dad sat in silence except their sound of chewing and gulping of morsel. I kept glancing up at mom seeing if she'd still have been angry for my delay. She sat eating her spaghetti, like there was nothing else around her. Just her and her spaghetti. Nothing mattered to her more than spaghetti and sushi. I wonder how she got to love them so much. She likes macaroni, but not as much as sushi and spaghetti. "Yeah, Glenda. I'm angry at you for not taking a shower. I'm angry because you overslept and I'm angry for being so angry.' Mother speaks out. She seemed sullen and bored at me, like she couldn't wait for the dinner to end. The sullen night also matched our mood at this night of dinner. I know what I was angry for. I couldn't really contemplate mother's reason. It wasn't that big of a deal. Father kept running a finger over his stubble. I could tell he hadn't shaved frequently. "Come on, mother. I was really tired. What was I supposed to do in this neighborhood, anyways? I have nothing to do.' I said to her. I threw out my words at her because I vowed not to squander such opportunities. I said what I had to say. She gave me a look and opened her mouth to speak, then closed it and tried again. She was lost of words. ''Okay. I see you're a big girl now. Just be responsible enough. You still are that callow teenaged girl who cried when she was lost in the woods.'' She spoke again pointing her fork at me longer than usual. It was like she was interrogating me with a gun over my head. Her explanation left me thoroughly perplexed. I'm surprised she still remembers that because I barely do. We were on a camping day while everyone sat laughing and talking. I didn't have anyone to talk to. The one who I wanted to talk to was talking to someone else. Besides, I had to piss really quick so I got up and wondered in the jungle. I found a convenient place to urinate. As I buttoned my shorts. I heard a scream more like a yell. At first, I thought it was everybody back at the camp laughing, but I was far from them. I went in the direction of the scream. Too frightened. I crept down slowly so no one would hear me. I felt a frigid cold down my spine. Then I saw where the screams where coming from. A woman held on to the tree, too tightly, and she was screaming in a way I can't really say. Her perfectly blonde hair was swishing on her face. It was like she was having a moment of enjoyment. A man stood behind her and kept slapping her on her back. Their grunts and awes filled the forest. I screamed because I thought they were fighting. I wasn't of the age to realize that I had interrupted on their sexual intercourse. I let go of my shoulder in fatigue when mother called me irresponsible. ''I'm not a child anymore, mother and the reason I yelled that day because I saw Uncle Matt having sex with his perfect, mature and young girlfriend.'' I said, wryly. Mother and father threw each other a shocking look. I immediately regretted saying that. Then mother began to laugh looking down at her spaghetti. Father started to giggle and giggles made me laugh. So we all roared in laughter. It was all back to normal again. That night I couldn't sleep. My eyes denied to close as they were too stubborn. I couldn't get them to go to sleep. Meditation, movies, reading and other stuff - can't be mentioned - were a perfect choice to get yourself to sleep. I just wasn't the right person to do such things. Yeah, I read some non-fiction and history sometimes and do that other stuff. That night hadn't felt the right time. Some events just aren't right to fit your mood at a particular time. If you don't want to do something, just don't do it. I crawled up to my bed and my phone showed a message from Evie, she told me to come to a party at 10:30. "Glenda, where are you? I haven't seen you for months.'' She texted. She always does that because I'd just seen her two or three days ago. ''Come to Chris's party tonight. He's inviting everyone on the hood. We can see each other then. Be there at 10: 30 sharp. Don't be late. Love, E. xoxo!" I jump off from my bed and get dressed with a casual shirt and a stripped jacket on top of it with yellow shorts. They seem too short. I hurry to the door, click it open, and set foot on the stairs then my mind clicks. But something stopped me. A sudden waking; I didn't want to go to that douche Chris's party. He's a maniac, much of a rascal. Then, I went back to my inside. I didn't say good night to anyone. I got into my over-sized cozy shirt, undid my hair, brushed my teeth and washed away the makeup which I barely wore. Then I got under the covers. I sprawled in my bed, but I'd had miss someone on it with me. The cuddles, the kisses and the warmth just couldn't get erased from my mind and memory. If there's a category of special memories, I'd have place all of mine in the category with him. If I forgot these memories, if I evicted him from my heart, pretended like they are never there, I'd be ruining my life myself. My mother would always tell me to love my memories and keep them in a special category. I quickly fall asleep in those thoughts.