Velocity

Part four

Januari 2011, Madrid, Spain

I hate it when my parents fight. They think you don't know, but it's impossible not to. They are your parents, of course you know when something is going on. And they try to keep you out of it, but most of the time they are doing a terrible job.

There is only one thing I hate more. The silence of my mother is what scares me the most. When the woman who always has something to say, suddenly becomes silent, you have to fear the worst. So that's what I am doing.

I have been fearing the absolute worst since I left for school this morning. My parents love each other. I never understood why, but they do. So, when they won't stop screaming, even when it's the middle of the night. You know something is wrong.

I'm looking at my toes when I walk through the hall, on my way to my next class. I never liked school. If I'm being fair, I don't think you can find a fifteen-year-old kid that says otherwise. But for me things were different.

Even in England I was never the popular girl. I wasn't even the girl no one noticed. It was that bad that even the weird kid of my class got better off than me. No one has ever wanted to be friends with me. And I have never figured out if that had something to do with my dad, or if people just didn't like me.

The only one that seemed to notice me was Carlos. And he was exactly all the things I wanted to be. He was popular, liked and invited to parties. He was handsome, I assume. Because a lot of girls are hanging around him in the hallways.

Some of them got his attention, some of them didn't. All I know is that none of them ever liked me. Apart from the fact that I was very unlikeable, I was also the girl that kept stealing their attention from Carlos. And apparently that was a crime you needed to pay for.

I tried my best to be invisible. If no one saw you, they forgot that you existed on some point. And maybe one day, they'll finally leave me alone. But being invisible is something that is absolutely impossible if you are friends with Carlos Sainz.

I threw my bag on the ground next to a lonely table in the back of the classroom. This was Miss Wellers class. Of all my classes I hated hers the most. Because most teachers didn't care what I did during their class, as long as I was present.

I usually spend most of my time writing stories of adventures I would never go on. Because even if a miracle happened and my mom would let me go, I didn't have courage enough to actually go explore the world.

And why on earth would you want to leave your life where your mother screams at you, your dad is an unlikable ass and if they don't fight with you, they'll fight each other. Because that sounds like a life you don't want to leave behind.

Not that anyone but Carlos knew that about us. I think that if my parents knew I told Carlos about our problems at home, I would be grounded for at least a month. That is the danger with having a family like mine. The media had eyes and ears everywhere.

Sometimes they posted stories that were true, sometimes they published stories from which I could only hope they were fiction. But with my dad, you never knew. This morning they were going on about something that sounded serious. I think, judging from the amount of Spanish my mother used while screaming at my dad.

My dad is a very complicated man that I just tolerate because I have to. He is the last person on earth you want to have an argument with, because I can assure you, he will pull a card you never saw coming. My father is the human form of the UNO reverse card.

But I do have to admit that mom is being paranoid. Our postman quit his job the other day because she almost set him on fire. She wanted to smoke him out because according to her 'he shouldn't be trusted.' how that worked and perhaps more importantly, why he cannot be trusted, was something she didn't elaborate on.