Mischief

Its October 7th. Today is my nineteenth birthday. A time I hate. I'm reminded on how truly alone I am. Yeah theres those people I hang out with once in a while but none of them are there for me. I don't have a best-friend. Haven't had one in three years now. I miss her. Her name was June, her name fit her perfectly. She was a bright, happy person. I was too. Now I don't feel completely happy. Yeah I go to parties, hang out with people, can afford the new shit in stores but I don't feel truly content with all this. I'm alone.

Here I am, alone. Walking down the downtown streets of Miami. There are no birthday plans. None. I've gotten a few happy birthday texts from those who actually remembered; well probably because their phone reminded them. I pouted to myself. I had my earphones in listening to Bezerk by Eminem. I turned the volume up a little and felt my head nod along with the beat. I had gotten myself the new iPhone 5S in gold and my hair dyed as a little birthday present to myself. I dyed it a dark brown instead of having it light brown.  I walked up the building in which I stayed in an apartment. I walked up the stars to my apartment 202 and unlocked the door. I walked into the kitchen and saw a silver key on the counter. My ex roommate must have brought it today. Caroline was nice, we never talked really. She went to live with her preppy boyfriend last week and needed to drop off the spare key she had.

Preppy boys were never my time, even back when I was in high school. You would have thought otherwise since I was a girly girl and always had her nose stuck in a book studying for a test a week before. I had graduated early. I graduated the year I left. I was smart, but I realized I wanted a life away from my family and I didn't want to be a business woman. I then realized that no matter what I did in life it wouldn't be enough for my family. They would still pretend I wasn't there. I graduated at 16, and ran away that summer. I haven't seen my family in a year and a half. They didn't love me. They hadn't bothered trying to look for me. I was homeless, and lived on a street only three blocks away. I would sometimes walk past my house. One day I walked by with my hoodie and sunglasses. I watched as my mother and father dragged my furniture out to the front of their house; no emotion on their face. My sister who was a year older standing at the window watching, no emotion on her face either. They didn't shed a tear. The most emotion I saw was my mother look at the pile of furniture and shake her head twice. I wonder if they remember this day and how they once had a daughter named Mara, whos 19 now. I shook my head trying to shake the thoughts of my family out.

I opened the fridge to get some water and caught myself smiling. There was an oreo cupcake from my favorite bakery there, along with a candle set next to it. A note scribbled on a sticky note was stuck to the wrapper of the cupcake.

Happy Birthday ~ Caroline

I stuck the candle in the middle of the cupcake. I grabbed a lighter and lit it. I closed my eyes. I wish for happiness. I blew on the candle. I felt somewhat at peace knowing someone showed they remembered other than sending me a text. She took time out of her day to go to the bakery and get me my favorite cupcake. I had a feeling the year of my nineteenth birthday would be a strange one.

----------------------------------------------------------------------

Its been an hour since I had my birthday cupcake. I was occupying myself by watching some TV. I kept thinking of my old family though. I couldn't stop thinking about them. About how I got my dads light brown eyes but wish I had my mother's green ones. I remember my dad saying he was hoping I has my mother's eyes too, her eyes were beautiful. Then I thought of my dad telling me something else. Telling me that I wasn't doing well enough in school when I showed him how I got a 94% on a test everyone else failed. He didn't care though. He expected nothing but 100% from me.

I needed to ease my mind. I took a blunt, put it between my lips and lit it. I took a puff, starting to feel myself relax. I don't do drugs. Just the occasional puff of a blunt. I didn't do any hard, addicting drugs. Which is surprising because of my job. I worked with a drug dealer, he sold heroine. He seems to not use it though, I would've been able to notice. In my field of work you see druggies everywhere. I see how fucked up they are and what they've done to themselves. That's a main reason I don't do drugs. Never snorted a line of cocaine or took a hit of heroine are smoked meth, none of that. Ever.