Caught In The Moment

three - invitation surprise

Thanx to everyone who is reading my stories - I am very appreciative.

I will only update when I get 5 comments, 5 votes and 10 reads on this chapter. Plz get others to read. Thanx so much! Hit those vote buttons please. And comment on whatever you want - ask a question, give a suggestion, etc.

steph xxx

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

My eyes flutter open with surprise, my head resting slightly on my arm and the floor. I decided to sleep in Harley's room because he stayed up crying in his crib. Every few seconds I whispered to him, "It's alright sweetie. Everything is okay. Stop crying." He listened to me for a while until slept took over his body.

Now I lay by the side of his crib, my eyes fixed on his cute face. His eyes are closed with long eyelashes showing through. His nose is small and button-like. His mouth is pursed in a small pucker while he sleeps.

I can slightly hear the rain on the tin roof - the soft 'pitter patter' filling my ears. It is a soothing sound that I have always loved since I was born. It gave me the sense of being alone but not alone at the same time. The kind of alone when you feel safe not lonely.

His dark blue curtains cover up what is happening outside. Although I don't need to see to be able to know what is happening. I've learnt that it is better to dream about what might happen. But my dreams aren't always like everyone else's. I'm not actually sure what a normal person's dream has in it but I'm sure mine aren't normal. Only once on a blue moon I have a dream where I am popular or pretty or known.

I slowly get up and creep out of Harley's room, making sure to make the least noise possible. My toes sink into the soft carpeted floor before hitting the cold tiled floors. A chill runs up my spine and I shiver for a sliver of a second. I hear a noise escape from Harley and turn on my feet to see what's wrong. Nothing. No movement just Harley sleeping peacefully, his chest moving up with every breath. I must have been paranoid because of losing so much sleep.

* * *

I close the door of my bedroom door. The warmth of the coffee still lingers in the back of my throat. I have nothing to do. I thought it would be a day for me to find more friends, venture into the world of popularity. But now that the time has come I don't think I can face the change. I don't know even know how to become popular. I don't even have a plan.

I open the doors to my wardrobe to find the most flattering outfit. I swipe my hand through the small amount of clothes. Then I open the drawers that lie underneath my hanging section. White or cream blouses fill the closet with matching grey or black pencil skirts. A couple of denim jeans with flares and bell-bottoms which are so out-of-date also clutter the small packed closet. I literally have no idea what I am going to do today so how am I going to choose what to wear.

I choose to wear a musk colour cardigan over a white razor back singlet. I slide the soft cotton fabric over my skin; my hair rising at the slightest touch of new fabric. Then I find the one nice pair of jeans that are stashed at the back of my wardrobe for special occasions. They used to be a pair of boot leg jeans but I convinced my mum to make them a straight leg - whatever that is. Someone told me they would look better on me. And they were right. I only have sneakers or crocs - how desperate am I in need for a pair of ballet flats?

I choose the sneakers - I can't stand going out in crocs anymore. They used to be in fashion - with the toddlers although I am always a little under-aged dressed. The sneakers have a light pink strip running down the side with matching shoelaces and the rest shades from white to grey.

I have a look in the mirror - hoping for the millionth time in my life that I will see a beautiful young woman with perfect hair, flawless skin and runway-ready outfit staring back at me. But all I get is the same reflection as every time I have looked in the mirror - a boring, plain, nerdy looking girl with crazily frizzy hair and acne covered skin.

* * *

In the bathroom, doing the same routine as always - brushing my hair, using serum to calm the frizz, combing it, using creams to keep the curls intact. But it doesn't work - only making myself look more like a mess. Mum thinks she knows best; buying me all this stuff that I have no idea how to use. She would be better off buying me a better laptop for study or books that I will read in less than a week.

I slap on a sunscreen that says it is 50+ which I never thought existed. Didn't it only go up to 30+? It coats my skin with its foul smell which irritates my nose. My skin is oily but I can't risk putting anything else unnatural on my face. I've heard that make-up feels and looks like a cake has been thrown on your face. Who would want that?

I trend on the cold, wet tiles until I exit the small place that I hate going into. When I go into the hallway and peek into Harley's bedroom I see my mother cradling him. Her quiet voice creeps through the air while she sings a lullaby. I can only see the back of her, her dirty blonde hair trailing down her back. She rocks side to side, helping Harley to go to sleep.

I walk more down the hallway before she has the chance to see me watching her. I grab my backpack from the wall hook and make sure I have needed in it. Old phone, check. Lip balm, check. Library card, check. Reading glasses, check. Wallet, check.

I walk towards the front door before grabbing the keys that sit in the handle and turning them. The door slides quietly open and lets the cool air outside come in. The rain has begun to lighten but to be sure I should bring an umbrella. I think mum wont mind me going out for a while. I cant sit at home all day and be bored silly. And I am not doing anything that has to do with school.

I take the keys out of the lock and close the door behind me - with the flick of the key I lock the door. The dark black umbrella hangs on my arm. The light sprinkle of rain coats my clothes but I don't mind. When the rain begins to get heavier than I will open the umbrella to cover me.

My shoes make marks on the driveway and I try not to step in puddles because the flare of my jeans is already wet from the ground. I open the mailbox and kneel down to see if there is anything inside. My eyes scan the contents of the mailbox - snails gathered in one corner, a spider web forming in another corner, broken concrete and one envelope. I pick up the envelope without touching anything else in the mailbox. I read the word that is printed on the front - PARTY! - and stop breathing. Me, Megan Jones, invited to a party. What are the odds? I take a breath and begin to rip the envelope open. With every tear I feel so much closer to becoming popular. The note inside almost flies out when I have ripped the envelope because someone hasn't put in it properly. I run my hands over the note before opening it and reading the contents.

YOU'RE INVITED TO MY PARTY!!!

Dress up Party - Wear Something to do with the Season

Bring a plate of food

Date - Next weekend

Place - 1437 Roads Way

Time - 9pm onwards

Don't forget to Bring Someone along! :)

I scrunch the paper up and shove it in my pocket when my mum yells my name from the front door, "What are you doing Megan?" I can only see the outline of her figure through the fly-screen door.

I open my mouth to say, "It's Meg. How many times do I have to tell you." But instead I hold my tongue and say, "I'm checking the mail."

"Is there anything?" She asks, her brows crinkled and eyes drawn from sleep.

"No. I'm going to go to the library."

"That's fine - be sure to get home before noon." She waves and closes the wooden door.

I start down the street. The library is only a couple blocks away, I should be able to get there soon enough.