Just another day

Rosetta

  I won't start by telling you where I was born. That's way to stressful or worse, my full name. But for the sake of understanding, I'm Rosetta. And I'm 17. Well, 18 in a few days though. I'm not just your average girl at least I don't think I am. I really don't want to write this, but the Boss lady says writing  in this brown dusty old book will help me release all my bottled up energy.
    

"Rosetta! Rosetta!"

It begins . Wait for it, wait for it,.

"ROSETTA MARIA ADERIKE DOROTEA DOS SANTOS! Come down this instance."

Yup. She just called my full name and ...
    "Huuuuh I can't do this" I sighed as I dropped the pen and shut my new dairy.

"I'm coming Mum! " I yelled back. I could bet she didn't have a truly legit reason for calling me. Sometimes she would yell my name ,just so I could help her get the remote control from across the living room and things like this usually exasperated me. I walked into the living room just hoping that it would be something actually worth my time.

   My mother was smiling at me but I wasn't. I had the most expressionless face you could imagine. I waited like a predator for what she would say. And I had a feeling she had read me.

" Must you always look so glum? Try smiling more often honey, you'll look better." 

In my head I just kept on repeating say what you want woman, say what you want.  After she had spoken about an ongoing series, she had tried to force me to watch, How to get away with murder  I believe it was called, she finally hit the nail on the head.

"Rosetta could you give me a foot massage ?"

Was she serious? No she couldn't be. I looked at her feet ,then her face, then her feet, then her face again.

Shit. She was serious.

"Rosetta, what are you standing there for ? These feet won't massage themselves."

I stared at her feet again and shot a disgusted glare "Mummy, um yeah about da feet" My mum was smiling now. My strategy was working. So I made my accent stronger. And boy did I sound perfectly Jamaican.

" I do not know, if I will be able to massage the feet"

"Why will you not be able to massage the feet?" She imitated the accent as well. On this level, I was definitely going to get of the hook, I just had to play my cards right.

"Mummy I'm busy"

Oooo Rosetta wrong move. Wrong move. Now she's gonna ask what you were doing. Think of something think.
"You're busy." She didn't use the accent. "Okay then , don't let me interrupt you"
Her disappointment was obvious but I ignored it.

"Thanks mummy" and i ran back up, But before i placed my hand on my door knob, i thought of my brother. My baby brother who had drowned. You let him drown now youre giving her a hard time. Why didn't you save him when you had the chance... o wait its  because you were to busy with T..

"Just stop it , just stop !" 

Tears rolled down my cheeks as i clenched my fists  in saddened rage and punched the door. Why  ? Why was i thinking about this now? Why? Why? With  every question,  the tears just flowed and I  felt my head heating up as my ears captured  every  fast paced pound my frail heart produced. 

  I fell to the  floor, with the tears flowing more than ever, i could feel my strength draining and with  every deep breath i drew, involuntary pauses occurred as the air filled my lungs.

"Dear lord please take this torment from me. I beg you.  PLEASE"  I Prayed. I had prayed.

 The thing is, I had never been the type to be labeled as religious, or in any way interested in spirituality but  on this day, i found myself crying out to a being i didn't believe in and strangely, i could feel him accepting me. And i slowly i fell asleep on the cool dark wooden floor. As my head touched the  floor, i felt the last  salty tear drop.