Lightweight

Lightweight : Chapter Seven

                       My eyes opened slowly. I sat up on my bed and looked at the time. It was almost 11pm. I got up from the bed and out the door. I quietly crept over to my parents’ bedroom. My mom was the only one there. My dad probably didn't come home. Usually he's always working an overtime shift.

I yawned and headed back to my room, when I heard the t.v in the living room. I turned around and walked toward the stairs. Petrified, I crept down the stairs. I didn't know what was down there and I was so scared my skeleton might jump out my flesh, but at the same time, I couldn't help my curiosity.

I finally reached the bottom and hid behind the wall. I built up enough courage to come out from behind the wall and see who was there.

It was my dad.

He had a pillow and sheets laid out the couch. I walked over to the couch and sat down.

"Hey," He smiled dryly. "Your mom and I got into an argument about you today," He stated. I felt the urge to get up and walk out. I think I’ve had enough of those talks about telling someone about my 'problems'. I was getting sick of those talks actually.

"Why," I yawned.

"Your grades, and my job," His face was turned to the t.v. He sounded so dead. Mom must've talked him up to death.

I lifted my eyebrows. "My report card?" This wasn’t going to be good.

"Yeah," He nodded. He turned to me. "Your grades were really low Sydney," He looked me in the eye. The only thing my dad asked of me was to do well in school, and I let him down. I'm such a failure to life. "Your mom was convinced that the people in your school where the cause and that all I do are pay attention to my job," He looked down to the floor in guilt.

"It’s not anyone in my school, and it’s not you. It’s not anyone’s fault but mine," I tried to comfort him with my words. My dad was trying his best, and I know he was.

He didn't answer me. It looked like he was thinking of more things to ask me. Then he looked up again. “Have you eaten this week?" He lifted his eyebrow.

"Yeah," I lied.

"How many times did you eat today?"

"3." I lied again. "Breakfast, lunch and dinner," He paused and gave me a look of suspicion, but the look slowly disappeared. Then he continued on with his interrogation.

"Who made those disgusting flyers that were all over our porch?" He wiped his eyes, he looked so tired.

"It was a joke," I lied for the third time that night. It was like a trail of lies. One after the other.

"Your mom told me you were pretty upset,"

I bit my lip knowing that this conversation couldn't go on any longer. I wouldn't let it go any longer. "That was for something else. Um, dad, I’m really tired. I'll see you tomorrow," I got up and left the living room and into my room.

When I got to my room, I checked my phone for any messages from Scott, but all I had where a bunch of voice mails and missed calls from unknown numbers. I decided to send Scott another message. I wasn't going to give up until he talked to me again.

Scott please, don't ignore me! I'm really sorry!

I sent the text and put my phone back on the desk. I laid in my bed and dozed off.

It was Saturday morning and it was snowing. It was freezing cold outside because I felt the brick wind that slipped through the cracks of the window slowly breeze passed my face. It caused me to shoot my eyes open. I sat up on the bed and looked outside the window. The sidewalks looked like it was wearing a white fur coat. I had to go outside. And with that thought Scott popped into my head. I grabbed my phone off the edge of the bed. No texts. No calls. Nothing.

I got up from my bed and went straight into the shower. If Scott wasn't going to reply to me, I’ll just go to him, face to face. Show him that I meant business.

"Sydney, where are you going?" My dad asked from the kitchen as I was headed for the front door. He sounded like he had his mouth full of food. I sighed and walked into the kitchen.

"I'm going to Scott's," I mumbled.

"Are you going to eat?” He asked.

I walked over to the table and grabbed two pancakes and shoved them in a bag. "I'll take them there," I wasn't going to eat them, but I just knew if I said no my mom's theory would've been proven and the last thing I needed was my mom and dad nagging about the amount of food I eat a day.

I kissed my dad on the cheek and made my way to Scott’s.