Un Jour. [Incomplete]

Détester | Hate

I had just said 'Au revoir' to my sleep when I was greeted with the sound of rain.

I hated rain. I wasn't a pluviophile. But this rain somehow brought a smile to my face.

"Wow, I must be possessed by some spirt, no doubt in that", I thought.

Now that , I believed in. Even Albert Einstein believed in ghosts by the way.

I was in the car. And I also hated Cars. I hated the smell of cars actually ,as well as the smell of long road trips. I simply HATED it.

I was in a pool of hatred when my little sister's leg slammed on my very pretty, exotic coloured skin , with acne. I also hated my little sisters hindlimbs, they always found a way to make my already dirty traveling attire a tad bit more dirty.

Our nuclear family of 4 is cramped up in a Tiago with another gazillion bags . I on the other hand had a huge cardboard box below my feet so I had to loose my sandles and sit cross legged on the car seat, my sister was further sprawling on the other side trying to sleep with her legs high up behind my father's driving seat and now, pray tell, how the fudge am I supposed to be comfortable and avoid another puke?

The urge to vomit was growing by the second and was threatening to spill , when my dearest mother started arguing with my dearest dad about having no one to help her with her chores at home, as the maid had betrayed her for the hundredth time this year.

I was on the verge of drowning the car with pepsin when my father's oh so warming gaze met mine, he stopped the car and pushed me out in the rain, without sandles. I threw my guts out and sighed in relief ,but I soon realised that I was all wet, great.

We resumed our journey back home. And I caught some sleep. I was exhausted but my legs started to itch because of the innumerable times mosquitoes had bitten me. I also hated humid weather and where we were coming from it was humid as fudge.

But luckily we lived in a hill station and just the thought of returning home from this awfully long road trip made me happy, but alas, it didn't last. I was reminded of something far more worrisome.

I had homework. Lodes of holiday homework and better still, all the homework was my language homework! I love language!

Please note the sarcasm.

With all these heavy thoughts how could one sleep deprived teenager sleep in a very uncomfortable car?

Well there was no turning back now. I had to cram all the homework I had in the remaining 2 days of holidays.

§

"You and I have to carry the heavy bag upstairs ok?" My mother commanded.

My father had sprained his wrist so it was my job to lift the 'elephant bag' up the stairs. The weather was cold, and definitely not comfortable.

"Where are you Ranee!?"

My mother didn't sound too happy huh? Well my mother had temper issues.

"I'm here!", I groaned.

§

I finally unpacked my stuff and sat down on my study table, with a huff. I touched my easel right beside my table.

"I missed you so much!" I kiss Mrs.Jones.

The easel is Mrs. Jones.

I love her.

The only corner in the house that I had to myself was this. I didn't even have my own bedroom.

Life was boring no doubt, I wasn't really expecting much. But soon, stuff happened-

Edited once-

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