Ebony
I tread on the cracks along the pavement on purpose. I recite a list of superstitions concerning bad fortune in my mind. And I find myself slipping into repetition.
Today is going to be a bad day.
My mother tells me I'm one of the most positive people she knows. She says I have the gift to brighten every room I walk into.
Today I do not have that gift.
Today, my mother would not recognise this pessimistic girl staring at the concrete floor in concentration.
For today is the day I move into a new flat. I refuse to call it mine, because I'm merely a replacement of a previous roommate that lived there not so long ago.
Her boyfriend called it quits and as far as I know, she's gone to Las Vegas to "rediscover her aura", or whatever that means.
That is, according to my new flatmate.
Who I have never met.
Oh god.
What the hell am I doing?
"What the hell are you doing?"
I break out of my daze and glance up.
Oh shit.
A pair of strong brown eyes are glaring at me menacingly.
Somewhere in them I detect concern.
I should've known he'd be here. His gym session ended around ten minutes ago just down the road.
My brother is awaiting an answer.
"Sorry, is that a rhetorical question?"
"Ha-ha Ebony. Stop being a smartass and tell me why you are going to miss your bus."
My bus?
Shit.
"Speaking of buses, it looks like I have to catch one."
"Seems like it," my brother says.
I hug him quickly. Trust my big brother to remember my moving day better than I do.
Good thing I bumped into him.
We say our goodbyes and I sprint to the bus stop. If it had been my choice, I would have walked all the way, but I manage to grab a double free seat. I prefer company to solitude, but it's this time of day that my thoughts are most colorful. I should spend more time with them. I put on my headphones and imagine hundreds of different roommates as I tap my foot to the beat of the music.
I should contact Catfish and get them to pay me thousands. For now I watch the light reflect against the fingerprint stained glass of the bus windows.
And I don't know what I'm getting myself into.
YOU ARE READING
Elizabeth and Ebony
Teen Fiction"...And these children that you spit on as they try to change their worlds are immune to your consultations. They're quite aware of what they're going through."~ David Bowie
