Alone

Chapter 1: The beginning

I sat in the chattering classroom of Meloon Middle School silently. I was sitting near the back, not wanting to draw any attention to myself. I'm that kind of person. I would like to say I'm an introvert but I wasn't really shy, just kind of kept to myself. I wanted to smile but I couldn't. I wanted to feel happiness but I couldn't. I'm not emotionless and I am definitely not emo, I still have feelings. But it's more like a dark aura hung around me and nobody came close to me. Unless they were making fun of, of course.

I was waiting for our history teacher to assign us Friday's homework and dismiss us. I'm not really good at history or any subject, I just wanted get it over with. Two precious days to lock myself in my room, two precious days with out any homework! Paradise, I tell you.

Finally, the bell I had been waiting for for eight hours, rang. The teacher stopped her lecture and gave all of us a smile. She grabbed her notebook and wrote something, with a click! She snapped it gently set it down, grabbing a chalk and writing down our homework.

"Well, class, remember tomorrow days we have a quiz on Napoleon Bonaparte so go home and memorize your facts! Ask your mom or dad for help. It's all on page seventy-eight. Ben, Nia, stay back with me. Happy Thursday and you're all dismissed!"

I sat up quickly and put my history book in my bag and stuffed my pencil case into the side. I hung it over my backpack and was the fifth person to get out of the classroom. I sped through the hallways and practically ran when I saw the exit.

I inwardly sighed to myself as I stepped out of the school and took a breath of fresh air. I shouldered my backpack and swung my water-bottle by my fingers. With one last glance at my school, I headed home. Most kids had their parents pick them up but I already memorized the path home so I walked alone. It was a ten minute walk. Cars whizzed past me, drowning out the sound of birds chirping. My cheeks were red and cold, and my fingers tingled. I pinched the bridge of my nose and when I thought of all the homework I put off. I swear they're trying to kill us! Literally five pages of homework. Five! I felt a sense of dread enveloping my mind as I reached my house. It was a small brick house, cozy and warm. It wasn't much but I could live in it. We weren't really poor, just thrifty, I guess. I opened and stepped in quietly and shut the door slowly. I took off my shoes and walked into the living room. That's where I held my breath.

Lying on the couch, was my dad, drunk. Four bottles of alcohol lay empty near him. He was a small man, but muscular. He had a small wispy beard and a bald head; he was wearing a stained white shirt with matching jeans. He reeked of alcohol as I fought back stinging tears. I don't know why I had to feel sad every time I saw him. I wished I could just ignore him. I walked past him, wiping my eyes on my sleeve. I walked into the kitchen, and was greeted by a surprise. Now's the time to tell you about my mom. She was a beautiful woman with long, red hair. She always wore fancy clothes and jewelry. Her teeth were slightly stained yellow. But everybody has a flaw, don't they? My mom has one.

She smokes.

She's always never home, with work and stuff. But I liked my mom more than my dad. She was nice. I mean, she tried to be. But to my surprise she was home. She was sitting on the kitchen counter, lighting a cigarette. When she spotted me, she quickly took her cigarette and threw it into the trash. Mom licked her lips as she smiled nervously.

"Ida! How's my little potato?" Mom asked cheerfully.

I sighed. "Mama, I told you not to call me that."

"Awh! But my potato looks glum today."

"Mama, why're you here?"

Mom sighed and picked up her purse. I knew that there were more cigarettes in there and was tempted to grab it and throw it away. Mom looked at me and slowly caressed my cheek.