"I feel like a lucky little girl" is the phrase that echoes in my head every time I step into my bedroom because it is the most beautiful room in the world to me.
I usually turn on my carousel-shaped music box and sit in the center of the pink fringed rug, enchanted by all the shelves full of stuffed animals and dolls that surround my bed. I could recognize my toys among millions of other toys because I am very attached to them; each of them has a name and a story, as if they were my little friends.
"Dinner is ready!" There's Mom calling me to the table, which means I'll play after eating. I enter the kitchen and find Mom and Dad already at the table while George, my brother, is looking for his pineapple juice in the fridge. They both say in unison, "Hi Amy," and I return the greeting and sit at the table.
I've never had a great relationship with George; I prefer playing with toys over playing with him. He is 10 years old, which is four years older than me, and he thinks he's a grown man and never lets me make a decision. Moreover, being the firstborn, he believes he has all the rights to everything; in short, he is too arrogant.
"How did your math quiz go today, Amy?" Dad asks.
I sigh and reply, "I got a 10!" Dad can't even congratulate me before George jumps in yelling, "You're just a little brat! Everyone can get a 10 in first grade... how ridiculous!!"
At that moment, it felt like a stab had pierced my chest and then my little heart. I burst into tears, left the piece of pizza I was eating on the plate, and ran to my room. I locked the door and threw myself on the bed, hugging my giant teddy bear and trying to muffle my sobs against the pillow.
I could hear my parents yelling at my brother while he stubbornly continued to shout back at them that I was just a stupid little girl and that he never wanted a sister. I couldn't stop crying; I clung to my teddy bear, hoping it would comfort me.
Dad kept knocking on the door because he wanted to talk to me, but I never responded. I couldn't... I was too sad. I just wanted to calm down and go back to playing, ignoring my family because I didn't consider them as such.
YOU ARE READING
LOLLIPOP
Mystery / ThrillerI only remember that damn sweet smell, the blinding lights, the loud music, and then nothing at all... or maybe not... but where am I? 'Oh little Amy, maybe it would have been better if you had stayed home playing with your stuffed animals.'