The envelope

My parents

I hear yelling from my parents room. I would close the door, if I had one. I sit on my bed blasting loud metal music and drawing in my sketchbook. My big, fat, overweight, rat lays next to me with it's submarine sized body. I pat Dorito's big belly and say, "Dorito, your lucky my parents didn't find out about you yet, they would kill me". Dorito looks at me with his big, shiny, eyes and let's out a squeak as if it was responding to what I said. My mom stomps out of her room angrily while my dad is still yelling from the doorway. Dorito quickly hides under my blanket as my mom screeches like a pterodactyl at me.

"PANDORA SWITCH. THE. MUSIC. OFF."

I can see the vein on her forehead about to pop out of anger. I pause for a while, just glaring at her before switching of the music. I don't want to be locked in the 'dark room' again. My mom stops away downstairs, her stupid bob haircut bouncing at every step. I let out a sigh that sounded more like a groan. I pick up my pencil and continue drawing a woman with long blonde hair. Dorito squeaks for help under the blanket, seems like he's stuck in the maze of my blanket. I fold my blanket revealing a blimp sized rat with big beady eyes. I pat his small little head with my finger as Dorito squeaked for me to stop. He doesn't like being seen as "cute" or "fat". I look back at my drawing and rip the paper out of the sketchbook. No. I messed up again.

I crumple the paper and toss it into the small trash can. There are balls of crumpled paper in the trash can from my original drawings. My parents always told me how terrible, and stupid my drawings looked. They think that I should be studying to be a scientist or something better than an artist. I assume having creativity doesn't pave a path of success in the future. Sometimes my parents would burn my art in front of me. And know I do the same. I would burn my art that I spent countless hours on, and watch the red- orange flames consume the horrendous artwork.