Emerald: A Compilation Of Short Stories

Michelle

I finished spreading my new TOM FORD Scarlet Rouge lipstick on my bottom lip as the taxi cab slowly pulled up at the apartment complex. I looked out the left passenger car window to see the tall, beige colored building that had been painted when I turned 17. This place was my second home, even if seeing my family members was a drag. I opened the door of the cab and walked towards the apartment building as if I was under a trance. Snapping out of it almost immediately, I grabbed my phone and purse quickly after realizing that it was almost time for the unnecessary lecture before the feast. I walked up to the lobby door and looked back at the frozen taxi cab. I was confused at why the cab hadn't left yet. Is this cab stalking me? I quickly raised my phone and began to dial the police. I looked up to see the faces of the taxi driver, my husband, and my son, all staring back at me with raised brows and smirking mouths. I laughed my "witch laugh" as my "sister" calls it. I walked forward two steps and my husband and son came out of the car. I cut my laughter and lectured, "Why didn't you guys get out of the car?" I pushed them, making them walk faster.

After standing in the enclosed grey ness of the elevator, the gates opened and the night awaited its destiny.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

After being greeted by my father's 3rd loved waitress, me and my family walked down to the dining room where the rest were casually waiting for my father. As we waited, me and my sister gossiped about life and our jobs while our kids kicked at each other. But after a while, our kids stopped hurting each other and became statues in the old cushions called chairs. I didn't know what happened but my heart started pumping blood through my body at the speed of sound. I turned my head to see my father walking at a steady pace towards me. "Oh! Hi dad!" I nervously hugged him. My husband and my son hugged him after me. Awkward silence filled the dinning room, only to be broken by my father beginning the dinner with a "good night" to the table.

Everything after that was a blur. My father gave some weird lecture and I heard him murmuring something about emeralds in the kitchen. Maybe it was about my emerald earrings. All I truly remember was the lecture I gave to my son about stealing presents while in the taxi cab going home:

"How many times have I told you, Pedrenrique? You can't go going around stealing people's stuff with them noticing! I've taught this to your aunt and she's taught it to her children, so why can't you listen? Do. Not. Steal. Things. When. People. Are. Watching. You need to be sneaky with it. You know the aunt we don't talk to? I stole things from her all the time. And you know what? Not one word from her asking about where the stuff went. You need to act more like me, your father, your aunt, and your cousins. Stealing is ok, as long as you don't get caught because then, you have what you want without spending a dime and without getting in trouble. Do you understand?" I lectured.

My son nodded. Thankfully, he didn't say a peep of that "but it's the wrong thing to do" crap. I didn't want that to go into my ear for the millionth time.

When the taxi cab reached the house, I got out of the cab to the worst part of the night. The emerald earrings that I had been wearing had fallen off and broke onto the pavement while I got out of the cab.