CHAPTER TWO
point of view | zayne ali
...
"did i have pretty eyes? " i questioned myself, looking at myself on my front facing camera at a terrible angle. the bus jerked, i nearly hit my head on the window. i glared at the glass for a long moment before focusing back on my phone. i ran my hand through my hair, sitting up so my chin didnt look like it had a twin. "did she mean it? did i have pretty eyes? i wonder why she said that ... pity? " i couldnt seem shake off the hope that she chose to sit there again tomorrow. i shrugged the thoughts out of my head. i stared out the bus window, now on the way home.
...
"zayne!" my moms voice echoed from down the hall.
"yes?" i responded throwing my phone across my bed and opening my binder to pretend i was doing my homework. i strained my hearing for a response for her to tell me to do something, but i was instead gifted with silence. "yes, mom!" i called out again, again silence followed.
with a groan of pure annoyance i tossed my binder off my lap and began for my bedroom door.
"ZAYNE!" my mom screamed at the top of her lungs, her voice was from downstairs. i rolled my eyes.
"im on my way, mom," i answered her "im coming."
after taking my time down the stairs, i saw the back of her head on the couch.
"yes, mom?" i asked, un enthusiastically.
"well come here!" she said looking over her shoulder "let me see you,"
i walked in front of her, past the arm of the couch.
"yes?" i asked her, fitting my hands into my pockets.
"what did you do at school today?" she asked me and i shrugged a little making her glare at me.
"the same thing we did yesterday," i answered her "i dont have a test until next tuesday."
"well what did you do?" she questioned in different tone.
"as if asking me using a different voice would cause me to give you a different answer." i thought bluntly.
"jus school work," i answered rolling my shoulders "its the same everyday."
"you always do this," she said getting frustrated "whenever i try to talk with you, you act like you dont want to talk to me."
"because i dont." i thought rudely. i jus simply stared back at her until she dropped her face in her hands for a moment.
"and remember you asking me in middle school why you dont have any friends?" she said to me and i felt a hot anger flourish through my veins "because you dont care. you dont care about any but yourself, zayne. one day youre going to be sorry for not talking to me."
everything she was saying was coming in one ear and out the other. i was 13 when i told my mom i didnt have any friends. that was the last time i told her anything personal about me, because she brought it up every time i said or did anything that irritated her. i didnt have an emotional relationship with any of my parents. i hated telling them things, because all they would do was judge me. they never supported me, they always picked at the flaws of everything.
"jus go upstairs!" she yelled snapping me out of the doze i was in "you dont even listen! dont come back downstairs!"
"with pleasure." i muttered to myself. i turned away from her and started back for my bedroom.
