A Test of Loyalty

Part 5: Samantha

For the last eleven years, school started in September, the day after Labour Day. Starting in August seemed like such a cruel thing to do. Yet here I was, knowing that I had to get up at seven for the first time in two months. I should have been sleeping but my ears were filled with Ashleigh's mother and her boyfriend's voices. They'd been drinking, I could tell. They didn't always make sense, but you couldn't stop listening. The wall was like cardboard for one thing; it was like they were right in the room with me. Worse, the wall seemed to act like the skin of a drum, amplifying their shouts as if each of them was using a megaphone.
"Ball-busting bitch! I told you never to touch my stash, what the hell you thinking you're doing, touching my stash? I told you!"
"Screw yourself, asshole, it's my house!"
I tried to ignore them; I rolled over trying to shove my pillow into my ear, but I could still hear everything. They were arguing over drugs, and occasionally over money. Once they segued into arguing over Ashleigh, but only long enough to recognize her name. Then it was back to drugs and money.
I couldn't believe the swearing they did. If my mom ever screamed curses like a sailor on leave, I'd die of shock. But enough was enough already, if either one of them swore again, I was going to start screaming myself.

Then my parents started. Great, I thought, fights in stereo. The language was different but the meaning was still the same. Everyone was angry at everyone else and someone had to get the blame. I was just thankful it wasn't me.
"David, don't you dare go over there, come back here."
"I'm not putting up with this, Margaret. I need to get some sleep."
"Why? It's not like you do anything all day."
"I am doing my best, we're not starving."
"Not starving? You think that's all that that matters? You think this is a fit neighbourhood for Samantha? You think I want to live like that?"
I could just picture her pointing toward Ashleigh's apartment. My Mom loved to point to get her message across.
"You think I do? I don't see you getting off your fat ass to look for work."
"What? How dare you talk to me like that?"
The door to Ashleigh's apartment slammed shut and I could hear someone walking away. I figured that would be the end to that argument.
"You think I agreed to marry you for this?" My Mom was on a roll and wasn't about to stop. "You promised me a good life, a damn good life and this is what you've given me! Let me ask you, David. Does this look like a good life?"
"This wasn't my fault!" my Dad screamed.
"Everything is your fault; you said you knew what you were doing. I trusted you!" my Mom screamed back, twice as loud as my Dad. It must have echoed through the building because Ashleigh's mother pounded on the wall.
"You shut up in there! It's three AM! Don't you know this is a school night? Decent people are trying to sleep."
I had to smother myself with the pillow to stop from groaning out loud.
Mom and Dad whispered tensely for a little while and then an even tenser silence fell. You could almost feel the chill spread from their room, through the wall, into my room. The silence had a presence all its own, like a dark ghost creeping stealthily into your room. I actually preferred the yelling. It didn't sound as final as the silence did.
I still got a few hours sleep.

In the morning, Mom was bitchy as hell. She didn't say much other than a few muttered words under her breath. Dad was worse; he grabbed a silent coffee and walked out. When I came into the kitchen, Mom decided she too, wanted to be alone and I was left to fend for myself. I guess they forgot that it was a school day. The kitchen was still a mess. Most of the dishes were still in boxes and I had to go searching for a bowl and spoon. All Mom had unpacked was whatever we'd needed to use right then. She was never much of a cooking person, despite buying every gadget known to mankind.

The only cereal I could find was Dad's high fibre stuff, but at least it was food. Besides, if I was going to learn to be an adult, I figured I might as well learn what it's like to eat tasteless food for the sake of living a few extra years as an invalid.
I was so tired I thought I was going to fall asleep and drown in my cereal. Mom finally returned and saw just how out-of-it I was. She insisted that I drink some coffee. More adult behaviour, I thought. But even the bitter taste of the coffee couldn't fully awaken me. I just sat and stared like a zombie at my cereal bowl. Mom chirped about having to make my lunch because we didn't know if there was a cafeteria at the school. I guess she remembered about school after all. I asked her if maybe it would be best if I just went hungry and had a good dinner tonight but she insisted that I have a good lunch to keep up my strength. I figured that not arguing at three in the morning would have been better, but I kept my mouth shut.
Mom's make-up wasn't the most fashionable these days, but it did help to conceal some of the black under my eyes and the white pastiness of my skin. So, I put on a little concealer stuff under my eyes and a bit of blush for some colour on my face. Mom kept trying to pretend nothing was wrong, but she just seemed so fake. And brittle, like she was made of that crackled glass that was so popular a couple of years ago.

Finally Ashleigh knocked on the door. I was never so glad to go to school in my life.