ROBBERS ➳ c.h

Direction ⇆

Calum

A lot of things were important in my life, and a lot of those things weren't to my mother. The things that benefit me, dont benefit her and it's never really been any different. When my sister died when I was thirteen, it was obviously going to effect me in ways my mum didn't want, and she was right, really. I got into smoking and weed, I found it a better way to relax rather than talking about it like my councellor had said. I remember hearing those words come from his mouth and immediately I threw them away. I didn't want to think about my sisters death, let alone talk about it. I wanted to forget it. I never wanted to remember, but I wasn't the only one effected. My mum was too, and it's now a constant reminder in my mind. I understand she lost her daughter, but the way she puts me down, the way she compares me to her no longer existing baby girl frustrated me to the point of breaking.

"Why the hell are you out so late?" She growled as I shut the front door and pulled my shoes off my feet. I let out a short grunt, not wanting to talk to her right now, "Answer me Calum," She breathed out, clearly annoyed already. My mum had depression and anxiety, which usually meant she was always tired and always annoyed, yet at the same time she was constantly worried about the stupidest things. I know she can't help it, but she refuses to treat herself. She refuses to take the medication that doctors are prescribing, and she refuses to care.

"I was out," I stated simply, walking past her and into the kitchen. I grabbed the milk out of the fridge and started drinking from the bottle.

"You're disgusting," She muttered, shaking her head. I put the lid back on the milk and sighed, "Why do you do this to me Calum? I told you I wanted you home before six, because Susan was coming over!"

"Is that our neighbour?" I asked, my ears perking up at the sound of Poppy's mothers name. When I noticed Poppy and her friend at Soccer practice today, I wasn't really fazed because they do that a lot, but what caught my attention was the way she was staring at me. She had curiosity written all over her features and I guess I felt the need to talk to her. I wasn't exactly sure why. I didn't feel uncomfortable as I used to because of last night and even though it was a short, brief meeting, I knew she felt the same way.

"Yes," She sighed in frustration, "But I was forced to cancel, because you weren't home!"

"Why am I so important to this little gathering?" I asked her.

She stayed quiet for a bit before she looked up at me, "We'd like to talk Universities with you and her daughter. It's getting important now you know," She shook her head. I let out a frustrated groan, I didn't want to even think about University yet. I was half way into grade 11 and I honestly didn't give a toss about where my life was headed. I just wanted to sleep, eat and fuck people until I died, "It's only seven, I might call her and see if she want's to come over still," She mumbled, walking away from me.

I walked up to my room and collapsed onto the bed, not in the mood to talk about my future. I knew Poppy was academically smart. Everyone knew it because it astounded the entire school that a girl who misses so much school can get straight A's in almost every subject. So even though she doesn't like learning, getting into a good University will be a breeze for her. I rolled over and let out a sigh. Mum says that her family is really rich because her mum sells her paintings to various Café's around Sydney and Brisbane and her dad works away in the mining in Queensland. I've never seen Poppy's artwork personally, considering we've never actually spoken since last night, but there's a few paintings in the libarary that I've noticed with Poppy scribbled down the bottom, so I knew she was good.

"Calum!" My mum shouted, "Susan and her daughter will be over in five! Get ready!" She called. I sighed and sat up, running a lazy hand through my hair before slowly getting off my bed. I changed out of my school shirt and put on a black T-shirt, leaving my school shorts on. I grabbed my phone and my packet of smokes before climbing out my window and onto my roof. I sat up here because the guttering around the house is a good place to hide the bud of my smokes. My mum doesn't know I smoke on a regular basis, she thinks I just smoke pot at parties and sometimes with my mates. I guess she just doesn't pay too much attention to me because everyone I've ever met has always complained of me smelling like horrid cigerette's and she's the one who washes my clothes. Maybe she does know and just chooses not to say anything.