My family seems to be perfect from the outside looking in. We have the big house, the money for things, the million-dollar-smiles... but nothing is ever as it seems.
We're plastic. We're fake. So fake, in fact, that we hide the little things abo...
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Saturday.
That's the name of today.
ME: Hey you
JOHN: Hey :) how'd it go last night?
I'd told him about Dahlia the day I'd met her and mentioned she'd be, surprisingly, coming over for dinner.
ME: Better than expected. But she kept calling meBarbie and Plastic.
JOHN: Hm. Why?
ME: Idk...
JOHN: Well you're not. You're one of the realist, sweetest girls I've ever met and I'm so glad I have you.
A smile spreads across my face as I read his text.
JOHN: Hey you wanna go to the movies tonight? We haven't been on a date in forever.
ME: Yeah :D what movie?
JOHN: Idk. We can choose when we get there :p
ME: Haha okay.
We work it out to where he's going to pick me up at around fiveish.
I lay back down on my bed, the morning sun streaming through my little window above my bed. I glance over at my calendar and a wave of relief washes over me. I have nothing to do today. This kind of rare occasion always calls for a celebration, and I think the movies are good enough to call it one.
Going down to the second story, there's no noise from my brother's room. It's either he's gone, or he's sleeping, which I wouldn't doubt either of them. Both are great candidates.
The first floor is quiet as well, except for the soft shuffling around in the kitchen. Must be my mom. My dad leaves for "work" all day every day, Sunday being his day off (or partial day off, due to church).
"Good morning, Amabel," my mom forces a smile.
It's bothering her again. My dad...
I throw my arms around her, the smell of alcohol clinging to her shirt.
"I love you mom," I say quietly.
She wraps her arms around me, seeming surprised.
"I—I love you too Amabel. Are you alright?"
I pull away and wipe my eyes. "Yeah, mom. I'm fine. Just wanted to let you know that."
She smiles sadly and turns to pick up her purse.
"Well, alright." She pauses, as if she wants to tell me something. Shaking her head, she says, "I'm headed off to the bakery. I'll be back around five."
I nod.
"Okay."
She hesitates before leaving the kitchen and I watch her walk out the front door. Unlocking her car, she looks back at the house longingly and shakes her head. She slides into the driver's seat and starts the car. I watch her back out and leave, escaping the horrid life she's stuck in, pretending like nothing is the matter and everything is perfect when, in truth, it's the farthest thing from it.
