The gravel was hitting the bottom of my shoes, and creeping into the holes of my raggedy converse. Speed-walking to the pavement which was a foot away even though it seemed so much farther. Getting out my house key of my jean pocket, I arranged it about a hundred times trying to get it into the key hole. When I finally got the door open, I plopped my black school bag on the wooden floor of our small apartment. I opened the small white fridge to a note hanging from below the gallon of milk. After reading about how my mom had a job interview until six and I had to make my own dinner, I got out a few crackers and sat the table, alone. I enjoyed the silence of nobody in the house for it gave me time to think and just relax. After about 10 relaxing minutes, my brother Willy came home. The teenager trapped in a man's body, found a comfortable position on the couch in the next room and flipped through channels. I knocked on the door which was hanging open a bit, and saw his face turn. There was a red streak along the middle of his forehead which led me to conclusions that he had been in another fight. He was mid-twenties and still hasn't realized that fighting wouldn't solve anything. He always brought unnecessary pain to himself. Willy had a soft heart and always tried his best to have the head of the household. We sat there for awhile and watched commercials since nothing was on to entertain us. He looked over at me and smiled but I glanced over and ignored him, looking back at the television. I guess he took offense to that, because he got up and left the room. I followed him, knowing that I wouldn't get far but I never knew when he would finally listen to me. He turned around in mid step and raised his voice.
“What do you want, Julia?” he said in a not yelling voice but not calm either.
“I just want to talk, is that too hard to do?” I said mockingly.
“I don't wanna talk.” He said, looking at the ground.
“You never want to talk, but I do. All you ever do is get into fights and get in trouble, if that would solve anything, why hasn't it already? You always have to be right, but sometimes you have to let it go. Just listen to me for once.” I said, not expecting a reply.
“You wouldn't understand.” He replied.
“Yeah, well maybe you don't understand.” I said with confidence.
He walked out of the house and got into his red jetta and left without a word. I went back to the only company I had, my crackers left on the table. Scrolling through my newsfeed on Facebook, I couldn't help from seeing people complain. For example, “I'm so fat, Boys don't like me, Why are you so stupid, I need drugs, Fight me, I give up” I always wished there was something I could do about it but it was way out of what I could do.
After eating almost a whole package of saltines, I walked up to my room. I had posters of my role models and my bed propped up against my closet. It was a small room that had barely room to walk around. It was nice and quiet and had a bathroom linked to it. I was the only one in the family that didn't have to share a room.
I heard the door open and contemplated who it could be. Mom was at work, Serena was probably working, Russell was at his girlfriend's house, and Connor probably was out pick-pocketing. After hearing more than one voice coming from the kitchen area, I managed getting myself out of my chair. Skipping down the stairs, I reached the kitchen to see Gia with yet another boy. Gia always seemed to bring a new guy home every day. It was no surprise. This time, I could sense something wrong. She was reaching into the fridge to get the last microwavable pizza. He came up behind her and took her behind the waist. He had a baggy sweatshirt on with his hat on backwards. I could tell he was about four years older than she was. It was just wrong. I could sense something that wasn't welcoming about him but it would make no difference if I told Gia.
I slumped down in the seat at the table that was unoccupied by unnecessary guests. They were having their own conversation, while totally ignoring me.
