Nyx's Child

Home is Hell

When I got home I didn't care that it was night time. I just wanted to go inside and sleep. I wasn't even sure I wanted to go to school tomorrow. The dancing, singing, and art classes today were enough to last me a lifetime literally. I think in one day I learned half of what my mother probably knew in all those categories. I shuffled through the door and immediately heard more classical music and voices. The hell? I followed it into one of the gathering rooms that seemed to be as big as a ballroom. It was filled with people I'd never seen before. Everyone was in elegant dressing. Wine glasses clinked and plates clanked. I stared into the room not wanting to go in.

"Sapphire, darling there you are." I whirled around to see my mother in a silky blue gown. It had slits on both sides which showed off both of her toned and tanned legs. The neckline was sweetheart and a little too low in my opinion. Her hair was left in cascading waves around her shoulders. Her face was clear of makeup, but the dress was enough. She held out her arms in a gug as she walked up to me. I sidestepped.

"No hugs. We aren't on that level of a 'relationship' yet." I said. Her smile disappeared and she glowered at me.

"That doesn't seem fair to me." I flinched. She thought me not giving her a hug was unfair? It was a godamn hug.

"You want to know what's unfair? The fact that you left me when I was just a little kid, with your parents so you could go off and marry someone rich and have a better life. Did it ever occur to you to think of someone other than yourself?" I shoved at her and walked past.

"Sapphire wa-"

"I don't wanna talk, Amanda." I stomped up the steps and into my small bedroom. She could go die in hell for all I cared. Not getting a hug was unfair? Was she serious? Not having a mother for most of your life is unfair. She wasn't even dead or sick. She just wasn't there. She was off screwing the richest guys for money. I threw my bag down on my bed and sunk into the covers. I soon fell asleep with the sound of a sad classical song. By morning my pillow would be soaked with tears.

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I didn't wan to get up but I did. I wasn't going to school though. I didn't care if Amanda got pissed at me. I knew I was acting like a baby, but who gave a shit anymore? I was still pissed at her. I tossed the covers off and went to my dresser. I pulled out my baggy blue sweatpants and white crop top t-shirt. I put on my white running shoes and put my hair into a ponytail. I haven't gone running in a while. Maybe blowing off steam will help. Like it did in the movies and books I read. Maybe doing something other than bashing heads in would help. I stepped out of my room and closed the door slowly. I tiptoed down the halls and to the doorway with ease. I was getting used to this place now. I hated that. I wanted my old room at the farm with Grandma and Gramps. I wanted to hear the pigs squeal when the horses got too close. I wanted my dog Robo to jump and snap at my legs when I tried to run away from him. Too bad, so sad, was what Grandma would say when I threw a fit when I couldn't go out with friends. To bad, so sad that she was right. I took the stairs two at a time going down. Maybe if I made it outside faster I could avoid having 'The Talk' with Amanda and my stepdad. I made it to the door without conflict and started down the street. I kept my breathing steady and started out slow. I would pick up speed in just a bit, but for now I wanted to conserve energy. I probably went past a few yards and into town for a couple of blacks when I had to slow down so I wouldn't hit passerbys. I almost tripped over a lady with a baby in a stroller. Good thing I hopped over the edge of the stroller. Bad thing I didn't run away fast enough to avoid the angry yelling of the lady. "Sorry!" I called back to her. I knew it wouldn't help, but it was better than not saying anything... Right? I was huffing when I made it to the middle of the park. I sat down at a bench and watched people hanging out. In front of me, just a couple of yards away, was a family of four. The mom, I guessed, was really pretty, with bright orange hair and nice green eyes. The dad had a few wrinkles and some white hair, but he was still handsome, with his broad shoulders. The kids were both girls. One with dark brown hair and the other with hair lighter than her mother's. The girls ran around the picnic table with their parent's supervision. The woman was seated infront of the man and he had his arms wrapped around her. The girls giggled when the man called something to them. The woman moved her husband's arms to reach out and grab her brown haired daughter. The girl squealed as her mother pretended to bite her and growl. I looked away. There wasn't any point in making myself feel bad. And there wasn't a point in making myself believe I could ever have a relationship like that. I'd never met my father and I barely knew my mother. Talk about family complications. Mine was plain messed up. Sometimes I wondered if Amanda had ever told my father I'd existed. Other times I wondered if Amanda had left my father. Usually I blamed her for everything because I only knew her. There wasn't a point to blaming someone you didn't know. Let alone have seen. But I did need someone to blame. Amanda was there so I blamed her. Plus her bitchiness made both of those possibilities seem like a great explanation. I looked back to the family. I wondered if I could be adopted. Then I remembered my friends and grandparents. Atleast something good came out of this mess. Out of my mess.