One Black Heart

One Black Heart - Chapter 2

Chapter 2

            “BREE BRIDGET MARINE, IT’S ALMOST 7:30 YOU’RE GOING TO BE LATE FOR SCHOOL AND I’M NOT DRIVING YOU!” Mark yells through my subconscious. I groan, rolling over and out of my bed.

            SMACK!

            “Mother fucker,” I moan, rubbing my face where I landed on it. When the pain subsides for a minute, I get up to get dressed. I remain immobile for a minute to let the dizziness dissipate. “What to wear, what to wear…Oh, I guess that’s easy! I have 30 variations of the same freaking outfit!” I shout sarcastically in hopes my family will hear. No reply.

            It’s true. While Melody has all the new trends, Mark and Mariana are convinced I don’t care about how I look because I’m ‘totally and completely lifeless.’ All thanks to my family hating me and shunning me, my wardrobe suffers for what they do to me. I have such loving parents, am I right? Oh how I wish I was. How is it fair? Life isn’t fair, sweetie, the voice in my head tells me. Sadly, I know its right.

            I throw on my purple v-neck and a pair of jeans…like I do every day with a different shirt colour. I don’t bother looking in the mirror. I look the same I do every day. I can’t do anything with my hair because it’s curly and frizzy. “Oh my hair,” I complain to myself. “This would be so much better if I actually had a flat iron of my ow – wn!” Maybe Melody will hear me. Maybe she’ll take my side and give me on –

            “BREE! STOP YELLING!” Melody shrieks from her room across the hall. “I’M TRYING TO DO MY HAIR HERE! IF YOU WANT ONE SO BADLY, BUY IT YOURSELF, SIS!” My savior, I think sarcastically.

            Melody’s such a bitch. “MELODY YOU HAVE TWO, WHY CAN’T I HAVE ONE?!” At that moment, Melody barges into my room. “Hey, you could have kno –” I get cut off by Melody shoving my down on my bed. She’s glaring at me from above. “What, Melody?” I ask. Not that I’m concerned for my safety, she’s harmless as a fly.

            I really don’t know what she’s doing. Melody leans in real close and whispers, “I would give you one, Bree…but that would involve me liking–” she spits out the word like its venom– “you. And sadly, sis, that just isn’t happening. Like, in a million years.” Melody turns her back on me and fluffs her hair in my mirror. Facing me again, she says in her cheerful voice, “You can’t have it because Mom and Daddy bought it for me, silly goose!” Melody touches my nose like a kitten, rolls her eyes and struts away.

            Does anyone see why I hate myself?

            Rolling my eyes, I throw my backpack over my shoulder hastily. I walk out of my room, sprinting down the stairs as if I were an Olympic runner. “Is there anything for breakfast, Mar – Mom?” I’m starving, oh my god.

            Mariana gives me a dirty look. “You’ve got to stop calling your father and I Mark and Mariana, Bree. It’s not appropriate,” she scolds me. I hear the same thing every morning, who am I to give a shit?

            I scoff out loud. “Maybe you should start acting like it first.” I twirl around, facing away from Mariana’s shocked face. “I’ll get something at school with the little money I have.” I actually have a part time job, but no one takes any interest in what it is anyway, thus why I’ve never brought it up to my family. “Bye, Mariana. BYE, MARK!” I yell up at my vacant father.

            “IT’S DAD, FATHER, OR DADDY, BREE!”

            “Yeah, whatever,” I mutter as I walk out the door.