My Weekly Horoscope

Chapter 3

I tiptoed in my house, wincing when the door squeaked. My parents didn't like me to be out past my curfew, 12:30. It didn't help that I smelled like beer and throw up. I safely shut the door and was making my way to the stairs when a light came on from my parents room. I quickly tried to get upstairs and pretend I was asleep but I barely made it to the fourth step before my mom came out of her bedroom.

"Ashton Grace Weathersby, get back here this instance!" She shouted-whispered. I trudged back down the stairs and met my mother's eyes.

"What? Can't you see I need to go to bed? I just came down stairs to get a drink of water." Wow, nice save Ashton.

"Do you think I'm an idiot? I stayed up through half the night waiting for you to get home. Do you know how early I have to get up in the morning and go to work?" I stared at my mothers groggy bedhead. There was one strand of hair that was literally driving me crazy as it stood perfectly straight up, defying gravity.

"Okay, first of all mom, you didn't stay up half the night because it's only 1:35," I said, walking closer to my mother and smoothing her short, curly hair down. There, much better,"And second of all, you don't have to get up that early, you know? I'm sure your boss would understand if you missed a couple hours. When was the last time you took a day off?" By the looks of it, it had been a while. Her hair was now graying more than I thought it should and the dark circles that were constantly under her eyes were getting darker every day.

My mom looked like she was about 45, but in reality she was only 33 years old (she was an Aquarius like me). She was sixteen when she had me and my father was nineteen. I know right. What a slut my mom used to be. A little harsh maybe? No I don't think so. Yet, somehow she managed to graduate from high school AND college and get her masters degree in...wait for it...culinary arts.

Though I hated to admit it, I kind of admired my mom for not letting having a baby at such a young age destroy her chances for a future. Of course, it might have helped that my grandma, her mother, basically raised me until i was like six or seven, while my parents went to school and got jobs; my mother as a head chef at an Italian restaurant and my father as the editor for the city's newspaper.

I loved my Gramma, but unfortunately, she died of skin cancer when I was about seven and a half. Life just isn't fair sometimes, so to make sure it was fair to me I always take care of my skin (which is kind of hard since we lived in Florida and everywhere you look people are basking in the sun or in the tanning beds) and my little brother's. In fact you could say I practically raised him as well. Preston was only 9 years old so sometimes it made me suspicious about our age difference. It wasn't an accident because before my mom had even gotten pregnant she had started looking at baby names. Did it take my parents seven years to realize they did it wrong the first time? Or did they just decide,"It wasn't that bad raising one kid, so why not add another?" If that's the case then someone should let them know they didn't raise the first child and second one isn't working out any differently.

Oh, but I am glad they had Preston. He really was my most favorite person in the world. Most the time I felt like he was my kid. Speaking of...

"Where is Preston? Is he asleep? I didn't even tuck him in?" I said, firing questions at her.

"I took him over to a friend's house because he was being too loud for your father to work," My mother said nonchalantly as she proceeded into the kitchen and fixed herself a glass of water.

"WHAT?!" I almost yelled, "Mom it's a school night! He'll stay up too late and you know how he's been having nightmares! Who's going to help him fall back to sleep?" I was boiling over with anger. How could she be so irresponsible towards her own son?

"Ashton, do NOT raise your voice at me! I've had way too much stress lately and you know that his friend's mother is more than capable of taking care of things!"

"Mom, I'm more than capable of taking care of things!" I was just about ready to flip over the table in the dining room.

"Oi, Ashton, you weren't here to take care of him. You were probably out partying. And quite frankly, you are not his mother." Her hands were on her hips and she was rolling her eyes at me as she turned and began to walk back to her bedroom.

"Are you sure about that?" I mumbled, making my way towards the steps.

"What did you say, young lady!?"

"NOTHING!!" I yelled, running up the stairs and into my room before she could yell at me anymore.

There, finally, peace and quiet. I flopped down on my bed and stared around my room. There were a few posters of Imagine Dragons, Audrey Hepburn, Marilyn Monroe, Mumford and Sons, etc. etc. Also, I had a large bulletin board for every horoscope, fortune cookie, or anything having to do with my future pinned on it. I tore the horoscope in this weeks newspaper and pinned it on the board. There. I smiled, I liked the way they were arranged in neat little rows. It also had some interesting pictures and quotes that I tried to base my life off of.

Like, for instance, a quote from a John Greene book, "The only way out of the labyrinth of suffering is to forgive." I honestly didn't even think I was deep enough to really understand it, and yet I felt like I knew all I needed to know.

There were thousands of others, but my eyes were getting heavy as I looked around my perfectly organized neon green room.

"Enough of this. I'm tired," I yawned to myself and slowly curled in my sheets, not even bothering to change my clothes. I needed rest. I had a Physics test that next day, or was it world history? And then i had to take Preston to his soccer...

I was fast asleep.