The Bicycle Ride [On Hold]

Chapter 1- Firsts

Chapter 1- Firsts

I woke up to the sound of my parents yelling at each other. Again. This was a daily routine. My dad gets home late; my mother shouts with her tonsils bursting out, my dad shouts back and they create a harmony. Isn’t that sweet?

Things were so much better back then,  but that was in the past, and I don’t think there’s a time machine that can bring me back to past. The last time they greeted each other a real, sincere good morning was when, when… when was it again? I really can’t remember. I don’t even think that THEY can remember it themselves. The only thing I remember about my parents is that they were once sweet, but that was like thousands of century ago.

‘That’s because you slept with one of your dirty whores last night! And don’t even deny it!’ I heard my mom screaming.

‘No I didn’t’ my dad answered in a calm but loud voice, but I knew it was coming. Wait for it… ‘And I am not lying!” And that’s it. Dad’s voice filled the house, and I can imagine birds flying out from our house, just like in cartoons and movies. After that, I heard a loud bang which I am sure is from my parents’ room, which was next to mine, because Dad performed a walk out scene in front of mom. This is another part of their routine, and just a few minutes after that, my Nana would come to my room and bring me breakfast. Speaking of…

‘Good Morning Eman’ Nana said as she silently opened the door, with my breakfast on her hands.

‘Morning Nana. How’s mom?’ I asked as she prepared the breakfast table in my bed.

‘Well if you consider her drinking at this time of the day great, then she’s all good.’ I started eating as she went on with her speaking. ‘Oh and your brother might come home next week. Now if you’ll excuse me dear, I’ll be going downstairs now because I’ve got things to do.’ She said and planted a kiss at the top of my head.

My brother, the one who I thought will never change did change. Just because of money, as if he can take it with him once he’s dead.

I quickly finished my breakfast and took a shower. I quickly put on my uniform. It was a red and black, checkered skirt which falls just right under my knees, and a white blouse with long sleeves. It is topped off with a black necktie and a red blazer. The school patch on the blazer’s pocket, which screams ‘Oakwood International School’, is clearly visible. I can see the picture of a raven, positioned in a way that looked like as if it was embracing the globe. I headed downstairs and grabbed my bag. I bid Nana goodbye and kissed her cheek, because she’s my mom by heart. I went to the family car and went to school.

I entered the school with stealth and was successful. I quickly went into my classroom and sat at the farthest seat at the back. I gazed as the sky through the window beside me. It was a blazing blue and the warmth of the sun embraced my skin. The school garden’s booming with colours as newly born flowers show their magnificent beauty to the world. With every passing second, the school gets more packed with students and sure enough, our room was full of students in an instant. I see familiar faces seated across the room, chatting happily with their friends. The newbies were in a corner talking to each other. And I was watching them, like a television show, but also aware of the fact that I, myself, am also a part of this show, yet they choose to leave me unnoticed.

It has always been like that, they never really cared until they figure out my last name. I’m used to people’s surprised reactions when I say I am Mary Emmanuel Holmes, because I never really looked like a kid with lots of money in the bank. My face, being the face of almost everyone, is easy to forget. The blonde hair, which is the usual hair colour of our people, falls just up to my shoulders. My nose, being straight, matched my thin lips which rarely form into a smile. I am not those tanned, hot chicks due to the fact that I am very pale. The only thing extraordinaire about me was my eyes. Its colour is of a translucent blue. ‘Your eyes are so shallow yet too deep. It looked dead but full of life; it was like looking into emptiness but was infinite. It looks dull but full of emotions. Your eyes, they are beautiful.’ I remember my mom describing it before, when our family was still contented with a simple yet happy life. It felt so far, as if it was a dream impossible to reach.