JanTom: Complete Opposites

c н a p т e r т н r e e

Chapter Three : Warning

Since I don't have friends I spend the whole weekend to myself sleeping. And by sleeping, I meant it.

So I was startled when the door bursts open and my eyes flung open whilst it stings. I barely squint my eyes, trying to make a view of what was going on. My mother just grins and heads straight to the windows, opening them and letting the cool breeze get into my room.

She acts so casually, as if she didn't just wake me up at this damn early morning--which I hated with a passion.

I hissed, trying to adjust my eyes from the beam of the sun. "What are you doing?"

I glanced over the clock that was placed near to my bed. My eyes widened and I sputtered. "It's six o' clock! Why did you wake me up at six in the morning?" I say to my frustration.

As you can tell, I'm not a morning person. Mom just rests her hands on her hips and sways it, then gives me a look. "Wash your face and get up; someone's waiting downstairs."

My eyebrows furrowed. "Who's waiting?"

If I remembered, I had like no friends---cross off John Keats and some "odd looking" dolls--which my mother comments to her own horror, often commenting that it might come to posses me one day. Well, I'd be glad if it did. It can set my life straight again. I could also get back to the people who have wronged me.

"Tom," she replied, a malicious grin spreads on her lips. I could just about tell what she was planning ahead. And no, I'm not going to fall in love with him, mother---if that's what you're imagining.

"Oh that kid?" I say casually. Then laid my head back in bed and pulled the duvet closer to my face. "--well, I'm going back to sleep."

I whined when my duvet gets snatched away and I'm left with coldness. I hiss and fluttered my eyes open, giving my mother a glare. "We're not friends. He's no one to me."

"Oh Janna," she chimes in. "--this is your chance to make a friend."

I groaned, exasperated that I have to explain the same thing again to her. Friends are too overrated, I tell you. "I don't need friends. I have these babies to keep me company," I point to my dolls--which all looked unique and creepy in their own way.

She scrunches her face at me, showing a little bit of her wrinkles. She crossed her arms and huffed. "You're talking about your horror imaginary friends. That's why you don't have friends; you creep them out so just engage with Tom atleast once will you?"

"That was rather nice of you, mom," I say sarcastically. My mother then grabs my hand and tries to pry me out of bed. I wail and held onto the mattress for as long as I could hold onto it.

"You're being unreasonable, Janna!" my mother grunts, obviously having a hard time pulling me out of bed.

"No I'm not, you are," I fight back, not losing to my mother. But then she pulls out a trick that I couldn't say no.

"I'll cut your allowance. That way you won't buy your cult stuff," she taunted and I let out a frustrated scream before I let go of the mattress and let my mother drag me like a sack of potatoes.

This is why I hated my mother---not really hate, but still. I mean she's clearly taking advantage of me, taunting me and it's working all too well.