Loveb Irds

Mikey I

When your day starts with your crazy mother screaming at you to get your lazy ass up at 4:30 in the morning, it is very easy to tell what kind of day it's going to be.

I yawned and fumbled around for my black glasses on my nightstand. The sun hadn't even begun to stream through my sad excuse for blackout curtains yet.

"MICHELLE MELL, IF YOU DON'T GET YOUR SORRY ASS UP HERE RIGHT THIS SECOND, I SWEAR TO DIYOS I WILL BEAT YOUR ASS."

Good morning. Time to start the day.

I let my long hair fall over my shoulders as I trudged up stairs. No time to change out of my baggy sweatshirt and grey sweatpants with the she-demon screaming for my head.

Just before I opened the door at the top of the staircase, I heard my step-mother say something to the she-demon.

"Baby, just calm down. I'm sure that she didn't mean to forget to set the coffee maker. You can just pop it in yourself. I gotta get to the gym before the office opens, but I'll see you later."

The soft click clack of Nadia's heels against the hardwood floor led themselves out of the house through the front door. After the door closed, the yelling started again.

"UNGRATEFUL CHILD, GET UP HERE."

I opened the door to see my mother standing in front of me in a fit of rage.

"Yes, Ma'am?"

"Why did you not have the coffee set up for me? You knew that I had a long drive to New York today for the company meeting, and I can't function without my coffee."

I tugged at the floppy cuff of my sleeve, looking at all of the creaky floorboards.

"I must have forgot to set it before I went to bed. I'm sorry."

She marched up to me and grabbed a fistful of my black hoodie. I looked up to see her dark brown eyes locking with mine. Her hatred seeped into my bones.

"You're lucky that your father isn't here. He would have given you a black eye for that. I'll give you a second chance because I'm so generous." My mother sneered.

Her hand unfurled, almost pushing me down the stairs. "Now, go make the coffee. Hopefully, I won't be late. It's my job that pays for most of your expensive bills. Be grateful that you have money to fuel your 'illness'. God, children are so needy these days."

I walked over quietly to the coffee maker and started putting the grounds in. A small sliver of early morning sunlight caught my pale hand as I pressed a few buttons to get it to the "correct" setting.

The only thing, besides overwhelming, impulsive thoughts and trust issues, that my father ever gave me was passing white skin and features. No one believed me when I said that my biological mother was Filiopino-Ecuadorian. Just Jeremy believed me because he had met both of my biological parents.

But that was before the restraining order. Before the court settlement. Before the police reports. Before the angel known as Nadia Mell came into my life.

When she married my mom after the dust had settled, I gladly let her adopt me and change my last name. That lady was a ray of hope in the dark and empty house.

After staring off into space for a good long while, the timer beeped. I rushed to pull the pot out and get it in the she-demon's favorite pink travel cup so she could go about her day.

Her pointed flats stomped down the creaky, carpeted steps from upstairs as she waltzed down to the main floor. My mother's long, black hair was pulled back into a sleek ponytail. At least she had gotten a good dye job last time. You couldn't see the grey hairs peppering her scalp anymore. She always hated being seen as old.