There's Something Against Us

Chapter 5

I sigh as I close the door behind me. As always, mother isn't finished working until seven at night.

Gently, I rest my bag next to the door and slip off my shoes. The dishes in the kitchen call to me for cleaning. It's one of my many chores, and I really despise having to do it. Perhaps if I was lucky enough to have a normal family, my mother would do them. And maybe I would have someone to come home to like everyone else does. Maybe if she wasn't working all the time - if she didn't have to work all the time because of me.

I glance back and forth between the sink and the counter, noticing there's no sponge in sight.

Must everything be difficult today?

I dig through crackers and dishes and every closet in the kitchen in search for one, but I have no luck.

"Ugh!"

Like a child, I huff and puff as I go to put my shoes back on. The mirror catches me by surprise, and an ugly frown grows on my face.

Maybe - just maybe - if I take off my glasses I'll look better than the trash heap I currently resemble. I move up the stairs and turn to my room. My only contacts are still in my vanity drawer from last month, and I carefully put them on. Crocodile tears begin to drip from my eyes accompanied by a terrible burning sensation. Ouch!

I blink repeatedly as I stumble back down the stairs.

"Hm..." I examine myself in the mirror. My cheeks are so red - are they always so red? I must've looked like a clown at school! I slam and lock the door behind me and head to the store.

Everything seems to have gone horrible today - I have a psychopath of a teacher, I got sent to the headmasters office, I was yelled at, I was clearly unwanted and boring my to my new friends, and I don't even have a sponge to do some stupid chore. A strong gust of wind shakes the miserable place that is Manchester.

After a few minutes of walking, I turn the corner and end up at a small grocery shop. It's a little overpriced compared to other stores around here, but I don't feel like walking anymore.

The door swings open before I can reach the handle and out bursts a middle aged man. He eyes me down shamelessly with a strange look plastered on his face, making my stomach turn. I quickly walk past him to get in the store.

Bells jingle above the door as it closes.

The man at the register is so immersed in a book that he doesn't even bother greeting me. His face doesn't even show - as in he can't even seen me. I could steal a sponge and he probably wouldn't even notice. Obviously I won't, but I wouldn't put it past other people.

Unsure of where exactly the cleaning aisle is, I wander to the back of the store.

A sigh of exasperation and annoyance escapes me. Who the hell organized this place?

My eyes focus on the items in front of me, and I flush. Pregnancy tests and condoms color the aisle. I quickly turn around and face the other way. Oh, much better..toilet paper and pads.

With about as much grace as a giraffe on roller blades, I approach the front and place a dishrag on the counter. It's the only thing I could find that might work.

I glance at the man at the register curiously. Really, this place is terrible at customer service. Who hires these people that don't even bother to acknowledge their customers?

The employee behind the register is wearing too big clothes, grandpa's clothes... Suddenly he moves the book away from his face, and his blue eyes meet mine.

"Mara?"

I blink back at him, feeling very panicked.

"Hi.." I stammer and look away from him immediately.