Dreaming Gray

I sat at the plastic dining room table as I ate my toast and watched my mom get my two-year-old brother ready for daycare as she also fixed her uniform for work. Daniel, the two-year-old, was crying as my mom parted his hair and shushed him. His brown eyes were watery and tear stains ran down his cheeks. His golden brown hair was fluffed in the back and combed neatly in front showing how hectic my mother was. My twelve-year-old sister huffed as she tugged on her back-pack and fixed her pristine dress and bun. Her dyed black hair that took up half of mom's two paychecks sat beautifully atop her head, and dark makeup brought out her discolored eyes.

The house was in disarray with clothes and toys scattered everywhere. The three-bedroom shack as I like to call it was in shambles. Holes in the walls that created deep dark voids hung on the walls like picture frames along with the trim on the doors that were falling off. A small TV sat in the middle of the room; a beanbag and a couch sat in front of it. The place was filled with cold debt and things we could barely afford, even with mom working two jobs.

"Annabelle, I need you to pick your sister and brother up from school today. The diner wants me to close tonight. I promise I will be home before you're in bed." I heard my mom say, as her eyes fixed on me. She looked sad for a moment as if she was remembering I was just a kid myself but didn't say anything else. She kissed all of our heads and told us to be good and that she loves us before she was running out the door, leaving behind a trailing scent of vanilla. A too heavy burden showing on her shoulders as I watched her get into her car through the window. It almost looked too much to bear but she managed it.

After dropping my siblings off, I slipped into the high school five minutes before the first bell and found my best friend. He stood tall against the crowd and looked over the raging high schoolers and smiled widely at me. I smiled back and made my way over to him, his arm instinctively going around me to protect me from the crowd of bustling students.

"I am so tired!" He shouted and laughed, it resonated throughout the hallway. "Maybe, I wouldn't be if I didn't have three AP classes and played baseball and did community service." He mocked himself taking the words directly out of my mouth. I looked up at him and gave him a nod, his spiked red hair shining in the fluorescent lights. I could see the dark circles underneath his eyes and all I could see was a sad jokester that used jokes to cover up the sobbing kid inside, juggling the mess of school work and recently divorced parents. But, before I could say anything he was letting me go and shoving me inside my classroom. I gave a half wave before making my way to my desk and plopping down.

Thunder rolled loudly outside; making the students in the classroom antsy. Multiple students up front roared with loud shouts echoing the thunder outside. I smiled as I closed my eyes and leaned back in my seat, letting the sounds of the kids and the thunder course through me. When I opened my eyes the teacher was standing at his desk looking down at his papers. I never noticed he walked in which made me think of a graceful leopard stalking his prey.

"Good morning class, I expect you all have your papers finished and ready to turn in?" he asked and started to walk down the aisle, collecting finished essays as he went. When he stopped in front of my desk he looked down at me with his dark gray eyes. "Annabelle, your paper?"

"Didn't do it, sir."

His hand flew to his face as he sighed, "why not this time?" I could see the dark circles under his eyes, probably from grading papers and now he had an unruly student to contend with.

"I didn't know what to write, didn't want to write something I don't know about," I whispered, it was almost a silent whisper as if I was trying to tell him a secret. But, it held authority and cockiness that I knew he hated.