Sneakers.
Where the hell are my sneakers?
Muttering to myself, I shuffle through the entire bag I brought with me, a few socks just in case, some sweaters in case I get cold, a pack of spearmint gum for those 'feisty' starters, and DEFINITELY my white converses. Well, I say 'white', but come on, I've had them for nearly a year, obviously I splattered ketchup on it by accidentally dropping a chip, getting it soaked with water by jumping in puddles and colour of brown to the rims by going on school field trips when I can't find my wellies.
With nearly everything rushing through my mind, I stop at the memory of when my dad left that morning.
That morning.
The thing is with us, we never think, we never even begin to imagine that one day we could wake up, perfectly normal maybe drinking a cup of coffee whilst flicking the channels, that we could end.
In a spilt second.
'I looked in the mirror with the same bloodshot eyes that had been there for weeks now. My lips were chapped, my green eyes had lost their colour and my body wouldn't co-operate with me. I would wake up in the morning, trying to get up but my body would force me to stay another 3 hours in bed either sleeping or staring at the white ceiling above. I would force myself to at least eat a slice of bread and my body would thank me by making me throw up in the sink. I would dress up to go out after weeks of spending time in the dark and my body would respond by making me faint as soon as I stepped out the door.
Not today. Staring at myself in the mirror, I force myself to paint on a smile throwing on a large black jumper covering my face with the hood. A greeting of the smell of vanilla hit me, making me force myself not to run upstairs and puke. Swallowing the lump in my throat, I sit myself quietly down on the chair, making a scraping noise drawing all attention onto me.
"Maddi, your finally up!" Mum states the obvious as she adds a few eggs to a bowl mixing as if her life depends on it. I hum as a response when a blueberry hits me right on the cheek. Turning towards Elliot, I manage to give a small grin as he slides towards me a stack of pancakes with a smiley face made out of fruits.
"When your finished, lets play Fifa. Rick is annihilating me, and I need coaching from the one and only." Nudging me before he runs up the stairs making mum shout out to clear his plate up, but of course he doesn't come running back down the stairs.
"Madison, is that a smile I see?" Dad playfully teases me throwing a blueberry at my way before I return the favour.
"You two, behave." Mum sternly narrows her eyes at both of us, as she tries to pour a dollop of pancake mix but ends up making a squiggly mess.
"Are you going to work today then?" I manage to say resting my head on his arm, him kissing the top of my head.
"Yeah, I'm gonna have to, David wants me to come early today, don't know why but I'll be home just before 6 so I can take us to Grandmas. She misses you."
The name of Zachary's dad stirs my knot in stomach, putting me off my breakfast. I never liked him. Never will.
"I miss Grandma too, Grandad can barely keep up with her and her morning walks." Changing what my mouth tells me to say, I go along with the Grandma fuss, avoiding any subject beginning with 'Z' and ending with 'Y'.
Dad chuckles making me smile a little, looking up to him and seeing how much he's changed in the past couple of days. Eyebags stick out to me as I look over him, when I remember he never used to have any until I opened my stupid mouth. He hasn't shaven in a while as spikes of white and brown shoot out on his cheeks and neck. I notice lines on his forehead as he goes to rub it whilst talking.
YOU ARE READING
The Bad Boy, The Bet & Me
Ficção Adolescente"Mads, I'm sure this is the right house, plus, who cares? I'd totally be killing the wet, hot look anyway.'' I roll my eyes back dramatically and force myself with all my might to not blurt out, 'YOU WOULD.' as his ego would then be enough to make m...
