How To Live Dead

Chapter 7: Girls

                               Kimberly:

             My friend urged me to have a party today, but I declined. I wasn't up  to it. I was waiting to see if my mom was going to call me. I told them that, & they understood.

    Aunt Tasha assured me that she would probably call, but I wasn't so convinced. It had been 2 hours after school, & still no call. I admit, I was getting a bit upset. Did my mom really hate me this much, that she wouldn't even call on my birthday? Tears started to form, but I wiped them quickly. I needed to stop crying.

    Finally, the phone rang. I picked it up, excited. "Hello?" I said, nervous, if it was my mom.

    "Hey," said Stephanie. "She called yet?"

    I sighed. It was just Stephanie. "No," I said. "I'm mad at her. It figures she wouldn't call, though. I mean, she hates me."

      Stephanie sighed. "She doesn't hate you--"

    "Why does everyone keep telling me that? Yes, she does. Why did she leave me? && why won't she even call on my birthday?"

    "Well..." Stephanie trailed off. I could see she was putting in alot of thought into this.  "I don't know."

     I was dumbfounded on how this was the first time Stephanie had said nothing more creative. I expected her response to be more creative, than the 3 simple words, "I don't know."

     We chatted for a bit, then hung up. I felt downcasted. My mom sill hadn't called!

     Maybe I needed to face the fact that she wasn't ever going to call. I shouldn't count on her anymore--I would  just forget her. But that was the hard part.

    "Honey, come down here," Aunt Tasha blared at me. I walked down over to the kitchen, where she was standing.

    "I just called your mom," she said, "She wants to speak to you," she handed the phone over to me.

    "Hello, mom," I said, my tone cold as ice.

    "Hey," she said, warmly. "Happy Birthday!"

    "Like you even care," I shot back at her.

    I could feel my mom taken aback. "Honey, I think we need to discuss some issues here---"

    'No, mom. I don't think so. We do not need to discuss anything. I'll bet Aunt Tasha reminded you of my birthday."

     That seemed to hush up my mom. She was speechless. I looked up at my Aunt Tasha, & she just stood still, waiting to hear more.

    "You know what, mom," I continued, "I got to go. Bye"

     I heard her start to say something, but I didn't let her finish. I hung up on her, & handed the phone back to Aunt Tasha.

     "Kim, I think we need to talk about a little bit about your mother," Aunt Tasha spoke.

     "Not today. Please." I begged.

    "Honey, you need to understand about your mom, because you don't get it---"

    "Your just like my mom! You think I don't get ANYTHING!" I screeched at her. I stomped away, bulging with rage. Aunt Tasha & mom were just the same, except Aunt Tasha was a bit more nicer than mom.

    I  could hear her sighing in the kitchen. Grown-ups act as if we didn't understand much; at school, though,  it was different. They expected more from us, & treated us more like adults. But  our guardians, well, they don't do a good job at that.