SCHIZO

Six

"Good morning, Mrs. Dunn, how are you?" I hear Luke say downstairs. I sit up in my bed and yawn.
"My mum and I would like to invite you and Ashley to dinner tonight at our home. She's very keen to meet you two."
I strain to hear my mothers answer.
"Of course! What time?" I can feel myself getting excited.
"5:00 tonight. Dinner probably won't be out until 6, but she wants to get to know you."
"Well, considering it's 1:00 now, I should probably wake up Ashley and begin to get ready. Where do you live?"
1:00 in the afternoon? I look at the clock. She's right. I did stay up late reading last night, though.
Luke must've written his address, or I just missed it, because I didn't hear anything else after that.
I heard my mother walk up the squeaky stairs. I don't pretend to be asleep. Instead, I pull out one of my books and open it up. Within moments mom comes into my room.
"How long have you been awake?" She asks, clearly surprised I'm up.
"Five minutes maybe. Not even."
"Were you up last night reading again?" She asks. I look at my book, them back at her. She sighs.
"We are going to Luke's at five for dinner. You might want to start getting ready."
I place my book down and walk downstairs, making myself breakfast. After a bowl of cereal, I take a fast shower and dry my hair. I enjoy long showers, they calm my down and I feel like my stress is washed away instead of the dirt on my body.
I spent a good amount of time on my make up, hair and clothes. I don't wear much make up, just some powder foundation and the smallest bit of eyeliner. I like it to be perfect, though.
I look at myself in the mirror. I fix my white jeans and pale pink blouse. I slide on some black sandals and my hair into a ponytail. Good.
When we get into the car I find myself playing with my fingers. Scratching my thumb with my middle finger's nail, rubbing the bases of my fingers together, anything. That happens whenever I'm nervous. That and feeling like I may throw up my stomach at any given moment. I didn't feel like that until we pulled into the driveway, though.
You can tell a lot about a persons financial statue just by their property. Stereotypes of wealthy families run through my head. I typically don't like to stereotype people, but sadly it's human nature. I usually stop stereotyping once I realize it, but I'm just so nervous I can't stop.
She won't like me, I think to myself. I'm not close to what her son deserves, I make myself even more nervous than I already am. I ring the doorbell.
I examine his front deck. A clean, smooth dark wood with flowers and chairs. The door is a bleach white framed with gold painting. I gingerly lay my fingers on the walls of his house. Rough, raggedy stone looking bricks, skin toned. I hear a dog barking and some talking, but I can't make out the words. The door opens.
"Ashley!" It's Luke. His face is full of excitement as he engulfs me into a hug. He's dressed in black skinny jeans with a hole where the knee is, a white t-shirt with some paint splattered on it, and a red plaid flannel around his waist.
"Mrs. Dunn, please come in." He smiles, holding the door open for mom and I.
The moment I enter the house my examination of the Hemmings as rich is proven. Pictures are all over the walls, leading up the stairs and into the kitchen. There are plants by the large stairs as well. Luke's mother must like plants.
Luke walks me into the kitchen and it a very nice light earth tone. The countertop is an earth toned marble to match the rest of the room, as well as the somewhat large island in the middle of the kitchen. Mom was already speaking to Luke's.
"Mum, this is Ashley." I watch as his mother's face lights up. She walks over and gives me a big hug. She places her hands on her face and examines me.
"Oh, you're so beautiful!" She exclaims, giving me a big smile.
"My name is Liz," she continues. She has blonde hair that looks like Luke's. "Call me Liz too, sweetheart." I nod and she smiles. Her teeth are very straight.
She turns away and talks to mom. Luke touches my shoulder.
"Follow me."
I follow Luke to a large room. A flat screen TV is on the wall, underneath it a stand full of movies and video games. I see his Xbox, Wii and Game Cube next to it.
The couches are a black leather. There are photos of Luke and two other boys--I assume his brothers--above their large fireplace.
"Our living room. You like it?"
I nod. Luke grabs my wrist and leads me to a door in the middle of a small hallway. He opens it and leads me down nicely painted white stairs. There's a plant at the end of the stairs. He opens the door next to it and switches the lights on.
"My room." He says, holding his arms out. The walls are white and hold band posters on them. Nirvana and All Time Low especially. His carpet floor is a light blue color that compliments the white of the walls. The wall above his bed has shelves carved into them. They're occupied by books and picture frames. Behind the wall is what I'm assuming the bathroom. There's a large TV on the wall next to his bed. Another Xbox is there.
"Two Xboxes?" I ask.
"Not necessarily. My brother sent me that one. We paid for the one upstairs.--oh, look at this." He brings me to a room across from the bathroom and it's filled with books.
"Remember the books I told you mum wanted me to read before I went out and bought more? These are our books." It's huge. I'm in awe.
"There's so many."
"Maybe. Some of them are my mum's. I don't read those ones," he shrugs.
Luke and I spend our time in his room. He told me about his brothers and Australia. Even about his dad.
"He hates you." One of the voices say. Shit.
"You're only at his house because his mom made him bring you."
"He's embarrassed to have brought you, that's why you're in his room in a basement."
"Stupid."
"Ugly."
"Fuck up."
Luke noticed something was wrong. I wasn't replying and I was looking at his wall, dazed.
"Ashley?"
"You're fat and he hates you."
"Ashley, are the voices...?"
I look at him and nod slowly. My tears burn my eyes.
He wraps his arm around me and digs his head into my neck. He matches his breathing with mine.
"What are they saying?" He mumbles.
"The usual. You hate me, I'm fat and worthless. That stuff." I murmur. He lifts his head and looks me dead in the eye. I look away.
"Ashley, look at me." I refuse. He grabs my jaw and moves it so I'm looking back at him. His look is serious and intimidating.
"Ashley, I do not hate you. You're nowhere near fat, and you're not worthless. No one is. Never think these to be true, no matter what they say."
"You have a lot of optimism for a depressed boy." I say.
"Once you find something to be optimistic about, your eyes really open up."
"What are you optimistic about?" I ask. I couldn't help but be curious.
"You."

-
"you" I'm emotional myself right now. I would've made it longer but I kind of want to leave it at this. The next chapter will probably be them in his house still. I'm currently on spring break to hopefully I can write a lot more!
Have a great week! :)