Problem Child

Babysitting

I reach the front door, jogging up to the porch before stopping to wave goodbye to Ty. I sneakily open the door as slow as possible but, a high pitched squeak escapes from the rusty hinges. I wince at the sickening noise hoping noone heard but my prayers aren't answered.

"Fredda? Is that you?" I hear Lauras tired words travel down the hall from the kitchen. "Shit," I whisper under my breath before answering her, still standing by the open door a.k.a my escape route. "Yeah."  

"Come in here please." I huff impatiently before obeying and scuffing into the kitchen. I chuck my bag to the ground and hop on a bar stool, with the granite bench keeping the distance between my step mother and I.

"So," she folds her arms, leaning down on the bench, her lifeless locks brushing the surface. "Your father and I have noticed the phase you've been going through lately," I roll my eyes, silently dismissing her words. "and we have decided to let you off without any form of punishment this time." Phew. That would've been shit. "But," Oh fuck. I sigh and lean back in my stool and raise my eyebrows questioningly."this weekend your father and I are going away for the weekend, so we need you to take care of Sam." Why? She can bloody take care of herself. I get up to leave, picking my bag from the ground with my fingertips. "We will leave you with 200$ spending money to use over the weekend. Spend it wisely Fredda." She says sternly towards my ignorant back as I continue out of the room.

************

"I'm not saying its your fault,  

although you could of done more. 

Well you're so naieve yet so." I switch between humming and singing as I manouvere around obstacles and skip trying to avoid cracks in the pavement. The early face of the sun is partially visible above the rooves of the many houses in my neighbourhood. "Well it's an ugly thing. 

That someone so beautiful. 

Will die every time I look inside." 

I continue to guess the lyrics, using the warmth of my hair as a scarf to hide myself from the wicked morning breeze.

My eyes find the pink sign of the dairy on the corner and I pick up my pace in a hurry to escape inside, to the warmth of the gas heater. I push open the door and the distinct chime of bells echoes through my ears and the welcoming smell of burning gas fills my senses as I scuff my slippers over to the glass doored refrigerator. I open it up and pick out a standard bottle of blue top milk, cool to touch even with frozen hands. I carry the liquid over to the counter and chuck the required amount of change in the hand of the humble indian owner before the cold grasps me again as I open the door and spill on to the footpath. My toes curl in discomfort within my slippers from the temperature and I huff out air like a firebreathing dragon exhaling smoke.

I become fixated on my breathing patterns, examining the rare visibility of the carbon dioxide escaping my lips. I giggle at my actions and start to hum another tune that pops into my mind space. "Doo, doo, doo, doo, doo, doo, doo. Not giving in. Oh I'm not giving in." Suddenly my humming abruptly ends and I collide with something. Fuck. You are so co Fredda. The bottle of liquid calcium slips from my fingertips as I fall towards the ground. I can't quit tripping over shit, honestly. I land with a thud on my ass before a distinctive chuckle fills the air. I look up to see a fit Brodie in running gear, not at all phased by the cold and holding out an extended hand for me. I hesitantly take it and am hoisted from the ground back to my feet. His smile quickly fades as if he remembered something. I keep an emotionless expression as I watch him pick up my unharmed bottle of milk. I take it from his hands just before he jogs off the way I came from with no goodbye or further acknowledgement. I turn and watch his muscly legs carry him further and further away from my motionless body. What the fuck?

**************

"Honey I'm home!" I scream at the top of my lungs as I waltz inside. I kick off my slippers and stroll through to the lounge where Sam is strewn on the couch watching Two Broke Girls repeats and taking bites from a piece of toast. I pout. "I went out in the cold dawn of the morning to buy you milk and you do this to me!?" I cry dramatically and plop down on the couch beside Sammies legs. " In your pyjamas? Really Fredda?" She rolls her eyes in embarrassment and I chuckle at her reaction.

" So. What have I missed in the life of Samantha Jones?" I ask quizzically, leaning back into the couch and pulling my knees up to my chest to rest my chin. "Not much." She shrugs and avoids eye contact and I immediately sense somethings wrong. "What was Laura yelling at you about the other day?" I ask as the question pops back into my head space. She gulps and the vast blue of her eyes engulfs my vision in a sea of fear. "Don't tell alright?" she begs. I offer my little finger."Pinky swear." I promise. She shakes it and opens her mouth, fiddling with the strings of her jumper. "I-I smoked some weed."

A/N holy shit. Is anyone from NZ who watches the Xfactor? AAH! Sorry for the late update but I haven't had any access to wifi since my dumass school cut us off. Bitches. Anywhoo Read Comment Vote Fan and ALL THAT JAZZ! Added freddas outfit on external link stupid hoes!