Throw Back Thursday

Eighteen

This is it. I knocked on her door until my knuckles were blood red and pounding.

"Yes, honeybee?" Ha, she couldn't recognise me! She was dressed formally in a navy blazer and skirt ensemble with a pink cravat. It looked kinda cool. Anyways.

"Hi, Mrs Carter. Could I talk to Liz for a sec?" Acceptingly, she smiled and opened the door wider to let me in.

I saw Lizzy standing there with the most gorgeous look of hate I have ever seen. She was walking towards me. This is good.. And reaching her arm out to grab me. Even better! Wait! Effortlessly, she grabbed the collar of my coat and pushed me through the hallway of her house. Damn, she was strong for a teen girl.

"Get... out." She hissed, much like Beast in Beauty and the Beast. I was sandwiched inbetween both ends of the door frame. God, this was so uncomfortable. 

"No." I put my hand on her chest to stop me falling into her. "I won't let you go. I wanna talk to you!"

"Oh, is that what you want?" She pushed me again, but onto an already slammed door this time. Wow, she really did think quick. She pulled me over to the stairs and she slapped me down on them. "You have ten minutes. Speak." I am not a dog. I am not a- Fine, better get this over with.

~ Two hours later ~

The phone rang and I was reluctant to answer it. I knew who was. I was precautious of who it was so I was very aware not to answer it. He could shove that God damned phone up his ass! He -

"Oh, hi daddy!" In a bittersweet manner, I wrapped my arms around my father. He raised an eyebrow at me. I did the same.

Now I know what you're thinking: stupid, irrelevant information. And it probably is, but it's just a game we've always played. Don't know why.

Just as I decided to avert my mind and actually concentrate on my father for once, my pip squirt little brother shows up.

"What ya doin', numb skull?" He ran forward and elbowed me in the groin. Painful. Just then, mom came in. A cute little family hug then followed.

"Aww. You're all so cute." Said with the most dripping sarcasm ever.

He'd better get the hell outta my house, or he's gonna be dead before he can run home crying.