People who knew me knows I am perfect.
My clothes, my family and the way I look. But then, deep within me I know it's a big fat lie. It's all superficial. If they all feel what I feel and see how empty my world is and how can one comes in and out inside it because there's a void in it--- I absolutely know that they will change their perspective about me. It will destroy my picture perfect image.I look at my reflection in the mirror--it's blurry. I can't see the real me. What I see is a good looking guy which is according to my girlfriend Krizzia. But I do not feel my face as if it is my feelings. It's just a genetic combination of my parents' genes. I am a mixture of east and west--- got my mom's color of skin and hair, but my dad's facial feature.
"Brandon! Come down!!!", my stepmom was yelling downstairs. Oh yes, I have a stepmom. My real mom died 5 years ago and my dad married this gold digging woman. She is also a filipina like my mom, but so far no one could replace my mom's gentle and loving ways. Incase you didn't know, my mom died of breast cancer. My parents had me in their late 30's that's why even though I am seventeen, they are already older than most who married younger.
"Brandon!!!!!", it's louder this time.
The first time she called, my first instinct was to ignore her. "WTF", I thought for the second yell. I am called Mr. Ignore Her---for if I start to retaliate, it will be more arguments, heartaches, and more and more yelling.
I come down from the stairs and she is at the bottom of the staircase with that "you're late" look.
"I know, I know. I will just eat my breakfast on the way to school."
"You came home past midnight. That's what you get---eye bags and pimples". She scanned through my face as if she's a ultra sound machine. " Your dad left early for Iloilo for a business conference and there's only me, you, the housemaid and your forthcoming brother slash sister."
She's pregnant! I didn't scream for joy but shrugged my shoulder. "Okay." I didn't know she could have babies but I do hope they could be like Dad---like a 100% all-Jefferson Raucher genes. Or else we will have 2 screaming creatures in the house. I just don't know how my dad could stand her.
"Juliana!!! Yong baon ng senyorito mo, bilis!!!!!!!!!!!!!!", I could already see her tonsils on that one.
"Tita Elizabeth, isn't it bad for the babies if you scream like that? According to studies, you need to be gentler and happier while you're pregnant. It will affect the baby's disposition."
"Oh really. Okay", she touches her belly, "I am sorry baby. Mom will not scream again.
That took care of it--- well at least for like few months. (wink, wink)
