Broken

Chapter 2: Cruel (KL)

Dark clouds were quickly rolling in from the view of my dining room window. Set on the counter beside me was my iPod which sat on a tiny black doc that was plugged into the random electric outlet by the sink. The tiny speakers of the doc vibrated as the loud volume of the music pulsed through them.

Singing along with the new playlist that I had just organized last night, I washed the dishes that had collected overnight and throughout the morning.

It felt weird and almost eerie having no noise in the house other than the noise I was making. Mom and dad had taken off for their weekend getaway this morning, leaving me the keys to both the house and the cars. Sure, I was a little upset that they had decided to go to Disneyland without me, but I couldn't be badgering them all of the time. They needed time for themselves. In return, they had trusted me with the major responsibility of taking care of the most expensive items they owned.

It was a relief to know that spring break started on Monday. The weather was already starting to warm up, hitting the thirty and forty degree mark. Of course there were the occasional April showers, but I was actually shocked at how little precipitation the East Coast of the United States was getting, especially around this time of year. Meteorologists predict that this spring would have the least rainfall they've seen in over a decade. From the looks of it, it was going to be a pretty dry Spring.

Lucky for my parents, they didn't have to worry about cold weather. They were going to be in California from now until this Monday.

When I was done washing the dishes, I took a towel and dried them up. I then placed the dishes in their designated area in our, trusty, light brown cabinets. Stepping back, I smiled while taking in how beautiful the kitchen scenery was: the beige painted walls, the brown cabinets, the coffee maker. Everything fit perfectly together to make this place feel like home.

My father had bought this house when he was only eighteen years old. This was the place where he and my mother had called home when they first married, and it also was the home to their first and only child, me. The two story house was of a decent size, with a spacious kitchen and dining room, a cozy living room, two bathrooms -one upstairs and one downstairs- and three upstairs bedrooms. Many memories were made in this house such as the Christmases we spent together, the birthday parties we threw for each other in the backyard, and even the simplest things such as telling each other funny jokes. My house was a place that I would always cherish.

When I had finished putting the dried dishes away, I unplugged the iPod doc, went upstairs to get my phone, and texted my mother.

Hey mom. Just wanted to know how u guys

r doing. I know u might be on the plane rn,

but when you land, let me know how ur doing.

Throwing myself backwards into the soft cushion of my pillows and stuffed animals, I laid back and online ordered a pepperoni pizza for myself. Mom had left me leftover in the fridge, but let's face it. There was a choice between leftover mac and cheese and freshly baked pizza, and I was sure that anybody in their right state of mind would pick the fresh pizza. I wouldn't  dare tell that to her though.

After laying in my bed for a few minutes, my phone vibrated. I had received a text from my mom.

We're good baby! We're at the food court in Chicago

airport. You remember how we had that connecting

flight, right? Well, it's really windy here in Chicago so our

flight to LAX is delayed for another 45 mins :(

I texted her back:

Well that sucks! Make sure you send me pix!