A Long Story

part one

I walk through the rainy storm just so I can get home. It's kind of dark. The sky is a navy blue mixed with a bit of gray. It smells like earth and water droplets cover everything as I trudge through the mud on the side of the road. My black jacket hood is not over my head, I want the rain to make my black hair wet, matching my deppresing walk home. My headphones are playing a playlist that's made up of sad songs, so it's all so perfectly deppresing.

As I walk next to the damp road, I look at the surrounding woods. It smells like damp earth. Snapping me out of my thoughts, a car drives by and splashes me with the dirty water, soaking my jeans and jacket. I groan.

"Ughhhh, I'm so damn cold!" I complain to no one imparticularly. I continue my walk home through the mud, mud caking the bottom of my converse. Bus riders are lucky on days like this. I have to walk about two miles home from school, and it's so damn exaughsting.

Soon, I'm crossing over the familiar bridge that tells me I'm almost home. I break into a run, exited to get to the warmth of my home.

I  trip on a loose brick near the end of the bridge, and I fall hard onto the mud, my hands barely breaking my fall, and my chin digging into the mud. I groan in pain as I stand up. I feel tears forming in my eyes as I touch my chin to check for blood. Thankfully, no blood.

Tears streak down my cheeks as I look down at my knee. I kneel down and pull up my pant leg, and I see a scrape starting to form on my skin. I stand up and pull my pant leg up. I sigh and I start to walk home again, now the old house is in the near distance. I start to speed walk, cautious to make sure I don't fall again.

I walk up the creaky floor boards of the porch, and I stand in front of the door. I attempt to open it, and it's locked. I check my pocket for the key, only to find a rock and the spare money from lunch. I check the other pocket, and I find my eraser. I start to pat down my entire body in hopes of finding the key.

"No, no, no, no, no!" I gasp as I realize I forgot the key. "Fuuuuuck," I groan before ringing the doorbell. I ring the doorbell multiple times in anger before violently knocking on the door.

After a few minutes of waiting and angrily knocking, my mother answers the door. "Sorry baby, I was-" I cut my mom off "about fucking time, what took so long?" My mom looks at me, shocked by my language and sudden out burst. "I-I was making dinner and trying to find a stopping point!" She replies.

I walk inside, angrily stomping up the stairs to my room. I pause to take in the aroma of spaghetti. I continue back up the stairs, less angry because I know that dinner tonight is my favorite food. I walk down the hallway to my room, and I open the door to my messy room. I throw off my boots and damp clothes, exited for some dry clothes.

I put on my favorite soft hoodie along with some soft pajama pants. I look at my bed, my bed was all undone, blankets scattered, the few plushies scattered. I walk over to my bed, and I look at the bookshelf next to it. I want to read, but i want to sleep too. I pick up my favorite stuffed animal, a blue dinosaur with rainbow spikes.

I walk out of my room and towards the bathroom, so I can put a bandage on my knee and throbbing chin. I open the bathroom door and turn on the light. I look at the mirror, i see my bruised chin and pale face. I push my black hair away from my eyes, staring at the depressed face that stares back. God, I wish I was beautiful. I open the cabinet that's behind the mirror, and I pull out a bandage.

I go to sit on the toilet, pulling up my pant leg. Dried blood is covering the scrapes. I open the bandage, putting the band-aid on my knee. I stand up, and my pant leg falls. I walk out of the bathroom and I close the door behind me. I walk down the hallway and down the stairs, my plushie in my arms. The aroma of spaghetti wafts up my nose.

I walk into the living room, and I sit down on the couch. I turn on the TV, as my tuxedo cat, Sonya, sits down on my lap. I immediately turn the TV to TBS, hoping Friends or The Big Bang Theory is on. Instead of The Big Bang Theory or Friends, Modern Family is on. I decide it's not that big of a deal if I watch Modern Family.

Later that night, at supper, I sit across from my mother, my father's empty chair to my right. I wonder when he'll get off work. I pick up my fork, and I stab some noodles that are covered in spaghetti sauce, and I lift the spaghetti to my mouth, the aroma of spaghetti sauce wafting into my nose as I chew.

I catch my mother staring at my bruised chin. "I slipped and hit my chin hard on the dirt." I explain. My mother's stare softens. "You should be more careful, we're so far out that if you break your chin, the ambulance will take a while." My mother says, her voice soft.

Suddenly, the door is thrown open. "I'm hooooome!" My father's voice bellows as he kicks off his work shoes. My father hangs up his soaking blue coat on the coat rack, his brown hair soaked. I've never really questioned why my hair is black when my mother has blonde hair and my father has black hair. I've always told myself that maybe one of them dyes their hair. Maybe I'll bring it up.

"Hey mother, father." I say as my mom slurps a noodle and my father sits down. My dad immediately shoves some spaghetti in his mouth. "Yes, dear?" My mom asks. I'm gonna ask. I'm gonna ask. "Why is my hair black, yet father's is brown and yours is blonde?" Father chokes on some noodles and mother drops her fork. They both look shocked.

What the fuck is wrong with them?
It's just a simple question.