Revenge is Sweeter Than Friendship

Chapter 8 Conversations

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                Frustrated. That was the way I felt after getting home today. That is the way I always feel when I get home. As soon as I walk through the door its chores, until I eat dinner is chores, until I go to bed is chores. I always say I am going to be early just to be able to get my homework done. My mother has been really irritating me the past couple weeks. Maybe it’s just because I realized how life could be. But sometimes I just wanted to scream at her. She has two legs that aren’t broken, she could get off her lazy ass and clean every once in a while. But no. She never did. From the time I was old enough to do everything, lets say I was about 7, she had always made me do it.

                Saying that her reasoning is to prepare me for when I live on my own, she always is able to manipulate me and I hate it. I want to be my own person and I wouldn’t mind cleaning and cooking for myself but doing laundry for five people was absolutely insane. She never treated my brothers like this. Her  excuse was always, “Oh, well he’s a boy”. Yeah he’s a boy what am I a fricking Leprechaun!??!? (A/N I have nothing against leprechauns. Seriously.) Ughh just sitting here thinking about it made me madder than hell. I could feel the anger bubbling in the pit of my stomach and I felt like I needed to punch something.

                I stood up from my spot on my bedroom floor. In front of me were clothes, sprawled out in any direction imaginable. The past couple weeks have been like this every time I was going somewhere. Choosing an outfit was some hard work, it had to make the right statement while fitting your personality which, if you ask me, was like pulling teeth out of a baby crocodile.  I walked over to my bed, still angry. There was nothing I could do to calm myself down and when I’m mad, tears flow.

                I laid there, wallowing in my own sorrows for a good fifteen minutes before I felt a low buzzing going on in my pocket. I sighed and pulled out my phone. The text was from Steven, saying to meet him in the park in five minutes. Or else. Ooh so threatening. Earlier this morning I had agreed  to meet up with him to talk about Alexandria and I’s “problem”. It made me even angrier when he called it a problem. To me it wasn’t a problem. It was a solution, my own personal way of coping. And god as my witness, I am a pretty good cope-er.

                I sighed, once again. Standing up I grabbed my jacket. At this point who cares if I look like hell. Why should I even bother any more.  I silently walked out the front door and made my way down the street. Out street was pretty deserted, especially since it was only seven. I pulled my hood over my head and put my headphones on. The music always helped the pain.

                The park was a fifteen minute walk from my house but who cares. Steven can wait for me. That is if he is even on time. As if on cue my phone started vibrating in my pocket.

                “Hello.” I said without even checking to see who it was.

                “Where are you.” Ohh joy. Steven.

                “I’m on my way, take a chill pill would ya.”

                “You’re the one who is already seven minutes late. I was worried about you, I thought you got raped.”