I Am Trouble

12~ Holes

I blew out my puff of vape, watching the cloud of air in front of me fade with whiteness.

I guess you could say that I'm stressed. But that's an understatement. A lot is happening right now. But, as my mother said 'you're just overreacting'. Hell, my mother never felt stress as a teenager. She got everything handed to her.

My dad isn't home yet. He stayed a little late the the Apple headquarters to finish up a few papers. That's probably why my mother got so pissed-my dad wasn't there to calm her down.

First of all, I got my math test back and I didn't do well-a b minus. So I'm stressin' about that. Second of all, I got detention for sleeping in class. And thirdly, I was tripped in gym class by some bitch, so when I flipped her off, I was told to sit on the bench the rest of class-dumbass teachers.

The principal called my mother about the last two situations. And she wasn't happy.

Then, when she found my test in my backpack, she got even more pissed.

I'm one human being. But I know why she's so hard on me.

She was the golden girl of the high school. Got perfect on her tests, was nice to everyone. Everyone was nice to her. Now, she's expecting the exact same from me.

I wish I could talk to someone about my daily thoughts. But, I hate showing weakness. That's probably what I hate most.

Being weak, letting my guard down. Hate them.

But, all in all, I am an independent person. So, maybe it's completely normal for a person with my personality to keep to themselves.

Well, clearly there's just something wrong with me-in my mothers eyes.

She loves Dylan. I mean, everyone loves Dylan! Because he's the golden child.

My dad, he has a stronger bond with me. But, clearly likes Dylan more. It doesn't bother me as much as it should, I think. I've basically bottled all of my feelings away. Storing them deep down. At least, I try.

My main goal is it not get attached to anything, to not trust anyone without truly knowing them more than I know myself.

Like Lynne for example. I know what she's thinking before she does. I know her more than I know myself.

She's probably the person I trust most.

Maybe that does just prove how much of a waste of oxygen that I truly am. My parents aren't the people that I trust most. My cousin is.

I inhaled more vape from the USB lookin' stick. Then exhaling, watching the white cloud of smoke disappear.

Sometimes, I wonder what life would be like if I was born in another life.

Maybe, as a celebrity. Or a dancer... Maybe an artist.

But I was born as a waste of oxygen.

The rumble of my dads Tesla rang through my ears as he pulled into the driveway.

I didn't dare move, he could possibly see me from where I was located on the roof of our house.

But once I heard the slam of our front door, my lungs began to properly function once again. He hates it when I'm up here. Especially in the cold weather-but at least there's no snow yet.

I was not about to add 'being on rooftop' to the reasons of why my parents can be mad. So I quickly slid down to the ledge, where my window was about six feet below me.

Maybe my dad will see that I tried.

~~~

I hesitantly sat in my chair at the dining room table.

Although I was staring down at my hands, I knew my parents' glares were burning holes in my head.

"You know why we're mad?" My dad asked, like I'm a child.

Well, he must really think I'm an idiot. And I'm not in the mood for it.

"Yeah, mom already flipped her shit on me earlier." I mumbled.

"You watch your mouth-," my dad went to say, but I cut him off,

"You probably used worse."

He clearly hesitated before answering,

"Don't get smart."

Changed the subject and hesitated. Yup, used worse.

"I can't do that, I already too dumb." I retorted.

"You are not dumb, you're my daughter, after all." My mother states.

I wanted to roll my eyes, but I didn't dare,

"Maybe I was adopted. Or switched at birth like Daphne and Bay were."

"Who are Daphne and Bay?" My dad asks.

"The girls that were switched in the show 'Switched at Birth'," my mother starts,

"Don't change the subject."

"You think that you were switched at birth?" My dad questions me.

"It's a possibility." I stated, raising my eyebrows.

"No it's not. You look too much like your mom. And I can guarantee that my-," my father tried to explain, but I was kind of glad when my mother interrupted,

"Enough! One topic at a time!"

Both me and my dad sat frozen for a brief moment, then my mother continued,

"Blair. Would you like to explain?"

'Well, would you like to explain how the hell you guys ended up in a gang? And the fact that you're hiding it from us-well except for me. And now the fact that we could be in danger?'

That is what I wanted to say. But I didn't,

"I was tired. So I accidentally fell asleep. And in gym class, that bitch deserved more than my middle finger."

"Once again, young lady. Watch your mouth." My dad stated.

"Why were you tired? Are you not sleeping well?" My mother asked, her voice calm.

Yeah, act like you care...

'Uh, actually no. I was up all night texting your rivals son about the gang history.'

Once again, that's what I wanted to say, but didn't,

"Guess so."

My mom sighed, as if she really cared,

"We have sleeping medicine in the house."

"I hate that stuff." I exclaimed.

"And the bad mark? Don't you study?" My dad asked me.

Well, this is a lot to answer to, father,

"I try. I just can't focus on one thing for too long."

"You're so much like me." He stated, slightly smiling.

Well, I'd rather be like you than anyone else...

Tough, a hard ass, a bad ass, fun to be around, everything.

But I can't even compare to my father.

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