I could feel the sun make a blanket over my body, as I layed idly in the field just behind my house. My mother tore the fence to our backyard down years ago, I remember her pulling each and every stained piece of wood from the ground, "Why would anyone wanna be fenced in like this.." She'd mumbled to herself whilst her baby pink manicured nails dug into the wood. I sat right there at age 6 and watched her, legs crossed in the lush grass that grew year round, I've never seen dead grass in my life. Not here.
Tracing my fragile fingers over each and every rib that protruded from my pale body, my thoughts were provoked, 'I am absolutely positively sure that there is nothing grosser than I..." A nonchalant sigh seemed to escape from my plump lips as I sat up to pull my knees against my chest, which was normal sized for a 16 year old girl...but who even knows whats normal with all the surgeries and modifications people do to their bodies these days. I shook the grass from my frill, dirt colored hair, pulled up a fragile daisy from the ground, and stood onto my feet.
As I advanced towards the light blue house that seemed to block out every sunset in the spring, I tore each and every petal off of the daisy.
The shreak of our broken back door made it's calling, and out stepped a tall, young looking lady.
"Hi, Danydoll.."
Ditching the rest of the flower onto the ground, I stepped right past my mother and onto the cold tile floor, blatantly ignoring her greeting. I could hear her fragile footsteps as she walked behind me.
"Well that's no way to treat your mum, huh?" My mother had been leaning against the rocky island that sat in the middle of our kitchen, face to face with the odd eyed cat I owned.
"When you stop calling me that nickname I'll--" I cut myself off, "Where's the peanut butter?" Playing pretend, I stepped out of the pantry to observe my mother.
'22 hours, and 40 minutes without food now, and she has no clue.' I tapped my fingers against the Saltines box I held in my left hand, a nervous tick.
"We ran out." She continued to play with the white feline, I swear she acts younger than I. Most mistake me for the mother and her, the child.
It never surprises me.
"There's nothing to eat in this damned house.." I mumbled under my breath as a regular angsty teen would have done (right?) and dismissed myself up to my room.
Slamming my door, I proceeded to ripping open the saltines, and taking a portion of them out of the navy blue box.
I crushed each and every cracker in my hand, causing crumbs to fall to the ground like snowflakes. Minutes later, I found myself flushing the remains down the suprisingly quiet toilet that sat in the small bathroom connected to my room.
I hadn't ate a piece.
Turning on the sink faucet, I tipped my head under it and drank until I hadn't felt hungry anymore.
