Rose #9//Lil Peep

#37: Lovely

An: No edits, comment if confused.

Last of winter break, January 8 2011

"How was the aquarium?" My dad asked because it was the mandatory thing for a father to do. He's not concern, unless it's about money, religion, or property value. At a certain age, I realized that and since then, my response are short.

"Good."

"And how's Samantha?"

Samantha is a friend I had here in Boston. We went to the same school and met through Model UN. She has black hair and brown eyes. She uses her height advantage for volleyball and after high school, she plans to attend Harvard. As you can tell, she has it all figured out.

"Fine. She went to London for Winter break."

Not to mention, she's adopted. Her family relies on inheritance, (much like my mom.) I know all this because as mentioned, I attract people who love talking about themselves. And also, I happen to be a very good listener.

"We could go there if you want—maybe when you come back for spring break?" His reply may have sound like a suggestion but quite honestly my dad lives and breathe to compete and compare his/our life to others. Meaning that my spring break, as we speak has been predetermined, solely based on the fact that Samantha and her family went to London.

And you, meaning I sorta... just... go with it, "Yeah, that be great."

My fault for mentioning it in the first place, right? Right.

"Well, I have to go. Ms. Carter will be here in a few minutes."

Not that I'm complaining, but rather that I mention (and if you can't tell already,) my dad loves money. He leaves every morning to get more and only returns a little before or after midnight.

"Okay."

"Alright pumpkin, have a good day."

I think the nickname makes it easier to be okay without him. Not to mention the kiss he leaves on my forehead, and for that moment, I feel important in his life... then the counting starts as he heads for the door. Each time, it takes nine seconds before I'm left with the view before me. There's a skyscraper across the way, similar to this one.

For a while longer, I continue to eat my cereal and sigh to make at least some noise. You know, in times like these I attempt to think beyond my rooted beliefs. But the thought of being in a simulation or comparing humanity to rats in an experiment only goes so far, "Amelia! I'm here!"

Ms. Carter like Ms. Almara, is valued. She knows me, more than anyone.

"I also got your ointment."

(Dry skin still occurs, but it seems to have gotten worst as I've aged. Ms. Carter tells me it's only puberty. Hopefully, she's right.)

"Thank you."

She placed the brown paper bag on the counter (next to my cereal) and went to the sink. "I walked Mrs. Parker's dogs."

As she turned off the water and flicked her hands, I reached for the paper towel and hand a bundle to her. "You should've came over, I would've gone with you."