A Letter to Myself

Too Much Family

I was bored, so I decided to make a cartoon version of Janessa on Meez.com. (You can see it in the Multimedia.) She doesn't look exactly like that, but it's the closest I could get to on Meez.

***

I found myself staring blankly out my bedroom window after school that day.

Why doesn’t Melissa understand? She’s been through a lot of social issues and she’s liked Patrik for three years! I thought she’d get it, but instead she just tells me that I’m lucky that I have someone to love. I’d almost rather have no crush.

These thoughts strolled through my mind until 7:45 when we had dinner.

“It’s nothing much,” Mom said she stirred the sauce. “It’s just leftover spaghetti.”

“Again?” Jennie moaned. “We’ve been having leftover spaghetti for the last three nights.”

 “Well, I’m sorry. You don’t have to eat it if you don’t like it.”

“Thanks, Mom!” I exclaimed, dumping pile after pile of spaghetti onto my plate. We didn’t have dinner every day, so I always took advantage of times like this.

“Girls, your father is taking you out for dinner this Saturday,” Mom announced.

“Really?!” Jennie was ecstatic. But I was a little different.

It’s not like I hated him... I was scared of him. I had memories of Mom and Dad arguing in the kitchen for hours. I had memories of hiding in the closet, waiting for the police to leave our house. I had memories of all of Dad’s broken promises. I didn’t exactly want to see him.

I waited until after dinner to say something to Mom.

“Mom, I don’t want to see Dad on Saturday,” I declared as Mom set her plate in the sink.

“Why not? You haven’t seen him in three years!” She tried to convince me to go.

“Well, I don’t want to.” I defiantly crossed my arms.

“Janessa...”

“What if he...”

“It’s okay.” Mom put a caring hand on my shoulder. “He probably won’t show up anyway.” I took a sigh of relief.

“Just don’t tell Jennie that,” she giggled, ending the conversation.

***

“So, you’re going out to eat with The Liar?” Melissa inquired, scarfing down her second lunch.

“Yup,” I nodded. “Mom told me yesterday. I’m really worried about it.”

“Don’t be,” she scoffed. “It’s not like that good-for-nothing father of yours will show up."

“Well, what if he does?”

“If he does, which he probably won’t, pretend you're sick. A stomachache always works. I did that once in Middle School.”

“Well...” I didn’t feel like arguing with her. Melissa was pretty stubborn. “Okay. Thanks.”

I dumped my lunch in the garbage can, but I unfortunately missed.

Someone rudely bumped into me, making my food slip off my tray. The burning potatoes splotched onto my blue-gray t-shirt and slimy gravy drooped down my arm.

“Oh, I’m so sorry!” Veronica’s words dripped in sugar-coated sarcasm. Some of her many friends like Kaitlin, Nichole and Brianna, giggled. “Did you make little Janessa spill? Someone like you would do that.” I guess she was talking to Melissa.