You would think that the sounds of a screaming tea pot would wake someone. As I scrambled around to settle things, I touched the soft, black rubber of the handle and lifted the screaming hot tea pot off of the reddened burner. Grabbing a mug with a purple heart on it, I poured out the boiling water over a brown tea bag and sugar. I walked out of the dimly lit kitchen and into the bright, vibrant living room.
"Quiet now," I looked at the two children yelling at each other, playing some shooting game. "Alphie, Lucy, quiet now." Lucy's dark hair was tucked neatly behind her ear and her big blue eyes smiled at me. Alphonse's freshly combed and gelled blonde curls were pushed out of his green eyes, which he rolled at me and turned away.
I ignored his looks and walked to the next room. It was dark, no light shone in from the windows, because of the thick, black blanket that was duct-taped and stapled around it. Empty vodka bottles littered the floor, along with brown and black smoked cigarettes. It smelled of sweat and cigars, and the only sound was the snores of the bear inside of this drunken cave. I grunted and shuffled around for the light switch, letting bright rays shine throughout the room. And the bear awoke.
I set down the tea and then left him, a hungover lump, to wake before he got agitated. Groans came from the room and calls of my name, which I ignored and walked into my bedroom to paint. An extreme feeling of nausea came over me, though, and I darted into the bathroom across the hall instead. There I emptied my stomach into the white toilet bowl and cried. I took a look at my fat stomach and ran a hand through my unbrushed hair.
Lifting my shirt, I stared at my baby bump. It all started several months before, the night I let my guard down.
"Can I go?" I looked into my father's green eyes, silently begging he wouldn't be drunk right now. Just for once I would have liked to be able to get out of the house. With my boyfriend off in another city for some job meeting, I thought that it would be nice to go out with an old friend of mine from grade school. "I'll go straight to my room. I won't bother you one bit," I pleaded.
He looked at me, and I looked at him. I knew it was pointless, he was in a drunken stupor, so, unless he was feeling oddly generous, which I was sure he wasn't, he would just tell me to buzz off. I tried to maintain eye contact, but it was extremely difficult. I started to feel defeated, and looked down at my muddy shoes. My mother had gotten them for me a few years ago. My mum was sweet, gentle, and always caring for anyone near. I got her looks; I was practically her identical twin. I thought that was why dad treated me so poorly, because I was the evil reminder that she is gone.
"Be home before midnight, Chastity, do you understand me?" His gravel like voice rang through my ears. I felt my face light up, and I smiled widely at him.
"Thank you!" I exclaimed and hugged him. The hug didn't feel as I remembered from my childhood. The last time I hugged him was when mom was still around. She had died from Leukemia a month after her thirtieth birthday. Dad relapsed into alcohol like when I was young, and he quit his job, leaving no income for me or my cousin and brother.
After I hugged him, I went straight to my room. The blue curtains filtered all of the light that shone in from outside, and all of my white walls looked tinted a faint blue. I opened my dresser and pulled out clothes. Looking in my wall mirror, I smiled and placed my hands on my hips. Grabbing my black phone off of the top of the dresser, and texting my friend, Jeremy, to meet me at the diner a couple of blocks away, I left.
It was such a simple thing to do, to go eat with an old friend, but it felt like my name was Chunk and I had just found the treasure from The Goonies. The weather was just right, though the trees swayed from the breeze, the sun was shining enough to keep it warm. The walk was short, I watched as cars zoomed past me, all of the different colours lighting up the world around me. I very quickly approached the old diner down the road.
YOU ARE READING
Vackra Mödrar
Short Story**Short Story** Chastity Andrews was a typical fifteen year old girl in a messed up environment. With a drunken father and no mother, she's already been shunned and mistreated. One day she goes to hang out with an old friend, thinking everything wi...