Schizoid

Introduction

(This Photo does not belong to me)

I stand in the entryway of my house, the door creaking closed. I can't help but feel at home when I'm welcomed with my mother screaming. About pancakes.

"I wake up, make breakfast, go to work, go shopping, and come home craving a breakfast. And guess what I come home to find??" She gestures aggressively towards the mess of syrup and an empty plate, "You shoving your face full of food, know that I haven't eaten all Goddamn day!!"

I decide to be kind and walk past the few feet into the kitchen, allowing them to see me. 

My mother stops abruptly, my sister given some peace in her tear driven state. She has food on her face, never being quite neat or caring in the slightest. She hasn't changed out of her schools sweatpants and sweatshirt, her hair damp, fresh from swim practice. I feel as if I'm looking into a carnival mirror, one that makes my image taller, stretching me to inhuman proportions, but Casey is very human. Her sandy hair pulled lazily into a high ponytail. The skin slightly tan from swim meets in the heavy sun, amazing me by her strength. Her sweatpants a navy blue, with our school logo of a circle with an X in the middle, not very original in my opinion, but she worships it. It sits upon her right hip, a glowing white.

My mother eyes the box I carry.

"Where the hell did you get that??"