My Life with the Andersons

Prologue:

I immediately ran and hid inside my room, the only place where I can avoid the loud chattering of my parents that reaches another level where they are finally yelling at each other.

Mom and dad are at it again, I couldn't avoid it much longer. It was near dinner time and you can still hear them bashing on each other's opinions. Curses, name callings, and more yelling. You can hear every single word crystal clear through the thick paper walls.

I was a particularly disobedient daughter, but I have to at least listen to their arguments, and then look for sources and explanations. I can't just let the both of them walk on each other. They're my parents, they're married, they should be responsible, happy and contented. But instead, whenever I go to some fancy occasion with them, they make it seem like I’m the mature one…unfortunately.

But besides all of these hurdles, outside my bedroom window is the bedroom window of my very best friend since third-grade, Thomas or should I say Tommy. Even before they moved to our street, Gavril Street, I have always been watching him and his older brother Blake at school when we were on first-grade.

“Blake” wasn’t really Blake’s first name; it’s actually “Kimberly”. He only hates it because it’s “girly”. So I called him Kimmie-Blake. We don’t really talk.

I haven’t seen Blake ever since then, but from what I’ve heard, he moved and stayed with his aunt for a while due to financial problems. As creepy as it sounds I somehow find them sort of interesting back then.

At some point Tommy had to work as a bartender at the Waverly Hills Club, which is two blocks away from our street. It wasn't that easy for his parents It wasn’t easy for him as well, despite the fact that we were both lucky that it wasn’t a strip club, he still had to cope w ith these angry, depressed, frustrated, stoned, and drunk bastards who would threaten to punch him, then clench their fists, crack their knuckles, and basically try their best to look tough. I and Tom have always ridiculed that. Let’s not talk about how one of them literally punched him in the face. He hated when I ridicule that. Once I heard that from him, I immediately applied as a waitress at the club.

It was a bit of a struggle for me since I have to deal with a few frustrated people. It was the first job that I have ever had and it was horrible. It was annoying, and a waste of my time. I’m expecting a lot for the future. But I had to help Tommy, he was my best friend and probably one of the best thing that have ever happened to me.

Everything went great for him and me since then. He saved up to $900 dollars throughout the whole month, a quarter from what he had earned and saved are from me. I really adored how his parents tried to keep everything together without cursing and yelling at each other, sigh.

Unlike my parents. I don't really under-appreciate mom and dad, but I just don't really get how screaming at each other’s faces is going to fix their problems. Aren’t they tired of smelling each other’s breaths? Aren’t they sick of having the scent of their mouth smuddered on each other’s face? I guess not.

For some reason, Tommy has this calming power. When I feel pressured, it’s always him that I go to. He never tends to fail on soothing my restless thoughts and the restless me. It’s not only his voice and personality that was soothing; it was also his chocolate hazel nut scent. Oh and his hugs! Isn’t he so precious and cuddly, he would always rest his head on the crook of my neck, giving me more free access to smell his fluffy chestnut hair. He didn’t know that I liked his smell and that I smell him, what…shh.

I lean against my bedroom window as the droplets of rain splattered against the glass, admiring how the beautiful flowers managed to bloom perfectly with the rain pouring on their colorful petals that tend to carry the weight of each raindrop that kept on falling.