It's Just Living | c.h

7- Imagination

"Honey!" My mother calls up the stairs from the kitchen "Honey!" Her calls grow louder obviously trying to get my attention.

"Yeahhh!" I shout back.

"HONEY!" Her calls have gone from calm calling to shouting impatiently so fast that I wonder if she's bipolar.

"I SAID YEAH!" I scream growing as impatient as my mother.

"Don't use that tone of voice at me missy!" What the??

"What tone?" I shout confused.

"Come downstairs! I'm not shouting at you." I think that's a bit too late, mum.

Stomping down the stairs, a whiff of spaghetti carbonara hits my senses- mm, my favourite!

"Mmmm." I hum sitting down in my place on the dinner table looking hungrily down at my food.

Digging in quickly I swallow the food lovingly.

"Slow down Kate! Your going to be sick." My father warns.

Looking up from my plate to see my brothers amused expressions, I slow down reluctantly.

"Soo.. How was your day?" My mum questions; picking up her fork and scooping a few strands of spaghetti on her fork.

"Average." I shrug leaving out the name calling, death threats and embarrassment.

"Any good lessons?" She pushes- I swear she has this weird obsession with me at the dinner table, she never asks my brothers any questions.

"Nope." I shrug again popping the "p".

"Okay.." And so the conversation ends- thank goodness.

Picking up my water I look outside the window and I see a dark figure pressed against the glass. Screaming I drop my glass into my food; pointing at the window.

Everyone at the table jumps then gives me a death glare before following my finger to the window.

But nothing seems to be there anymore.

"Kate!" My mum scolds harshly. "Don't be so silly at the table, you nearly gave your father a heart attach."

"No mum!" I hiss. "I saw something in the window, I swear!"

"Probably her whack imagination again" I hear my brother whisper.

"I do not have a whack imagination!" I shout frustrated. "I'm going to bed." I huff.

+++

'Idiot', 'fat', 'ugly', 'rude', 'pointless'

These words spin around me along with class mates faces sneering at me chanting these hurtful comments.

"I'm not!" I scream trying to stop them.

"IM NOT!" Tears pour down my cheek polling at my feet. .

Looking around me the words and faces spin around my and my tears grow stronger along with my cries.

The pool of tears drown me and I'm soon underwater but I can't breathe.

Chocking I try and swim to the surface but something is pulling me down.

I can't hold on any longer.

+++

Chocking I fly upright in my bed.

Looking around me I realise I'm in my bedroom, it was just a dream.

Looking across the room I catch my reflection and see tears draining my cheeks and, yet again, puffy eyes.

"It was just a dream." I remind myself.