Life Under Death

3

                I ran to the park, and rested on a swing. Huffing and puffing I sat my food on the swing beside me. "Ad-Adaline do you still..." I paused, still catching my breath. "Do you still feel that feeling?"

                "No, M'lady." I heard her voice before I seen her face. "The further you ran, the more the feeling went away. T'is completely gone now."

                I swung slightly, letting my legs feel weightless, and sighed. For almost a half an hour, I sat alone with Adaline eating my meal, trying my best to put what had happened behind me. I ran my fingers through my hair as I walked to the trashcan. I looked down at the empty container as it hit the bottom of the bin. Why did Adaline get the feeling of someone there? Were those boys just a figure of my imagination? Or was something more sinister going on here, and I just wasn't seeing it. I shook my head, it was nothing. I left my money there, I paid for my meal. There was nothing more that was needed to be thought about.

                I made my way home, the lights were out, so mom was either asleep, or just no home in general. I still climbed the side of the house, I didn't want to run into her, and I didn't want to give a reason for the neighbors to be suspicious and call her if she wasn't home. Not that climbing the side of the house wasn't suspicious enough, but I'm sure no one noticed. I was in the shadow of the night, and it was nearing midnight. If anyone did in fact see me, why were they looking at the house at this time of the night anyway?

                I changed back into my pajamas, and put the rest of my money back in its hiding spot and climbed into bed. I store at the ceiling, the stars' lights dimming out, and as they did, so did my vision. Before I knew it, I was asleep.

                The sound of crashing of glass woke me up before my alarm did. I slapped my alarm, hoping the sound would go away, but it didn't. Instead, it fell to the ground, and turned the radio on, on impact. I jumped and rolled out of bed. "Ow..." I groaned.

                I picked myself up to my feet and rubbed my eyes. It was 6:10, 20 minutes before my original wake up time for school. Slightly grumpy, and even drowsier, I opened my bedroom door and walked down the steps. "Everything okay down here?" I asked in a yawn.

                My mom sat at the kitchen table. Her phone beside her, and in her hand a cup of water and Alka-Seltzer. "Morn-ning." She said as she placed her hand on her head.

                To her left, a shattered plate, or two, were on the ground. "Did something happen?" I asked as a grabbed a broom.

                She looked at the mess. 'I, uh, fell while getting a cup." She raised her glass to me, as if making a toast.

                I began cleaning the mess, trying to get all the glass pieces. She watched as she drank her water. "I'm sorry about what I said last night."

                "What you said? About the pizza? It's fine. I guess it just cooled off before the box did."

                "That's not what I meant," She started. "But I'm glad you still ate it."

                I laughed inside. I never said I ate it. On the contrary, I threw it into the neighbor's lawn as I walked by last night, giving it to their dog. So someone enjoyed it, but it wasn't me. "What did you mean then?"

                "I mean when I didn't claim you as my child." She put down her cup and looked at me. "I was drinking, and I didn't mean it."               

                Sure you didn't, mom. "Its fine," I said forcing myself to smile. "I figured there was a reason behind it, so I went along."

                She smiled as she went back to drinking her water. "I'm glad you understand, Ski." She placed her hand on mine.

                I could feel the trembles in her fingers, but she continued to smile. Hangovers are tough. Now, she'll love me. Give me attention. But when I return from school, she'll be a whole different person. The person I wanted to avoid. No longer my mother, but just a stranger that I live with named Dian. And for this reason, among other reasons, I have trust issues.

                I stood up. Since I was up early, I could make something to eat for once. I grabbed a bowl and poured myself some cereal. "Would you like some?" I asked as I looked back at my mom.

                She shook her head and put up her hand. "No thank you, dear."

                I sat across from her, and ate my cereal. Trying not to chew loudly, and make her headache worse. We sat in silence. Her sipping her headache relief, and I eating my breakfast. We didn't exchange words to each other. We never have anything to talk about. We don't stand on the same levels. Usually, I wake up at 6:30, take a shower and catch the 7am bus to school.

                Yeah, sure, I could take the school bus there, but it comes at 7:30. I would have to stay home, and endure even more awkwardness between my mother and I. That, and I would have to deal with the school students on the bus. I didn't have friends, so I often sat alone. Before I would take the public bus, I would often hear the other students talk about me, throw things at me. After a while, I was sick of it. Would wake up early and walk almost 7 miles to school.

                I finished my cereal, and washed the bowl before putting it back in the cabinet. "I'm going to get ready for school now." I said as I walked up the stairs.     

                 I walked slowly, thinking I would get a response, but instead I could hear her set her glass down on the table and sit in silence alone. I respected her silence and continue to walk up the stairs into my bed room. I grabbed a towel from my dresser and walked to the bathroom. I take showers in the morning and night. Too many times I have woken up at night, dripping in sweat. Since then, I decided to take a shower whenever I could in the mornings. If I had time, that is.

                I took a quick shower, and wrapped myself in the towel before running into my room to dress. I kept it simple. A black t-shirt and dark jeans. I didn't like looking flashy. I preferred not to get anyone's attention if I could help it. I grabbed my hoodie and book bag. Juggling the book bag straps back and forth as I tried to put my hoodie on. I snagged my bus pass from off my door handle and descended down the stairs, heading for the front door. 'I'm leaving," I yelled to the kitchen.

                At first there wasn't a response, but just before I closed the door behind me, I could hear my mom reply; "Have a good day."