Shattered Glass (lesbian story) *NEW CHAPTERS COMING SOON*

Shattered Glass: Chapter 3 *edited 9-24-12*

April’s POV

“Hello dear,” Mother greets me as I climb in her BMW and slam the door. I have my earphones in, but nothing is playing. I want her to ignore me as much as possible so I don’t respond.

“I said hello dear,” She repeats and now I turn up my music to the max and stare out the window.

“I said hello dear!” She barks and I turn to face her with the most unfriendly smile I can muster.

“Hello mother,” I hiss and then turn away. I hate my mother. No, I don’t hate her because she grounds me or takes my stuff (which she does) I hate her for much deeper reasons. Most people think that it’s impossible for me to hate because I act so sweet…their wrong.

“Well did it kill you to recognize your own mother’s existence?” She demands, but I know she already knows the answer.

“How was your day?” She asks. I hate when she pelts me with questions. My day is the same as every single day. I go to school, talk to my uncertain boyfriend, and get followed around by a bunch of mindless makeup addicted zombies.

“Fine.” I reply as I search through my iPod for a good song.

“Well that’s good dear. You know our annual ball is coming up,” Mother reminds me and I roll my eyes. I guess you can tell by the words “our Annual Ball” that we’re loaded. That’s something else I loathe We have all this money and we just waste it, well mother wastes it. Imagine being left such a fortune and spending it on unnecessary things like lavished balls and designer bags. If that isn’t the stereotype of a rich white woman then I don’t know what is.

“You know I hate that ball…so did dad…” I sigh and she glares at me as we stop at a red light.

“Well your father is dead and you’re stuck with me now,” She snaps and I glare back at her trying to hide my pain as best as I can. My father was the best man in the world. He was a genius, he was an innovator, and he gave so much. He died about 4 years ago due to a heart attack…Father had a very unhealthy addiction to fast food. The thought of her bringing it up again makes me beyond agitated and I blast my music just to annoy her. She continues to talk, but I can’t hear anything over the sound of The Fray…

                My room is such a sanctuary. It’s the only place in the world where I can just get away and be myself. Father was the one who designed my room and I still haven’t changed it. The walls are different shades of purple, my circle bed has purple sheets, my curtains are a shimmering purple, and I have a chandelier that hangs over my bed that twinkles so beautifully in the sunlight. Father did all of this himself. But what I would give all of this away just to be in his arms again. He was a big man with red hair, and a permanent smile across his face. It makes me wonder why such a jolly person would marry a bitch like my mother. She’s a skinny, wrinkled, heinous witch and that’s just putting it lightly.

As I stare at my mirror I examine every inch of my body. “You’re beautiful” they always tell me, but beauty is only skin deep. Honestly when people call me beautiful it makes me go insane. I want someone to say that I’m smart, or I’m creative, something that actually has value instead of shallow words such as “beautiful.” I remember right after daddy died I wrote the word beautiful across my mirror…I took my brush at it and it shattered. As you can imagine mother was highly upset, that made me smile.

                I guess if someone were to just hear about me doing this stuff they would think that I’m an ungrateful little winch. What they wouldn’t realize is how I am so grateful for everything, but I don’t want it. If I could take all of this unnecessary stuff and give it all away to those less fortunate I would. I wouldn’t do it for praise, I would do it because it would be the right thing to do. Mother doesn’t understand why I’m so giving and I simply tell her that I get it all from my daddy. Daddy what give you the shirt off of his back in the middle of a blizzard. I miss daddy. Suddenly I hear the sound of Lily Allen’s voice streaming from my phone. I have a call…great.

“Hello?” I answer in the most sweetest voice that I can muster.

“U-um, April?” The person on the other end stutters. It’s a girl, her stuttering is cute and makes me giggle a little bit.

“Yes, this is she. Who’s calling?” I ask sweetly. I always have to ask because I have a lot of people calling my phone.

“Um N-nikki,” My face lights up when the mystery girl reveals herself. Talking to Nikki today was like a breath of fresh air. She wasn’t like any of the ditsy people I hang out with every day. Of course my friends keep saying that I should pay Mr. Newmar off so I could work by myself, but I like Nikki.

“Hey Nikki,” I say cheerfully and she laughs a bit. She has such a cute laugh.

“Hey, um I had an idea that we could meet up at the library and you know start researching what we want to do for this project. I want to get it over with you know?” She chuckles.

“Me too, I hate science. Of course we can meet up today. Which library is more convenient for you?” I question and she hesitates for a few seconds.

“The Green Wood library. It’s about 2 or 3 miles away.” She answers.

“Cool, it’s like right up the street from my house. Do you need a ride?” I offer and she hesitates again. By her hesitation I know she needs one.

“I can walk. I walk everywhere,”  Nikki explains. I can’t help but frown. Here me and mother are driving a gas guzzler and other people have to walk. This kind of shit pisses me off.

“You know I’m going to walk to, how about we meet up at around 6ish?” I suggest. I need the exercise anyway.

“Alright. I’ll see you at 6. Bye April,” She agrees.

“Bye dear,” I hear her giggle a little bit to herself and then the line goes dead. Maybe the rumors about her liking me are true…If they are I find that very cute…