You Complete Me (UNDER CONSTRUCTION)

Chapter 2

“Well another great film. Done and over with,” Lincoln commented, patting his protruding stomach.

He had eaten most of the popcorn and three different bags of candy. I was surprised he hadn’t thrown up yet to be perfectly honest. Taking a sip of my sparkling, flavored water, I watched as he belched one of the loudest burps I had ever heard in my entire life.

“I have a lot of homework, so I should get going,” I told him as my mind wandered about the shabby apartment that waited for me. 

“I can give you a ride,” Lincoln offered as Max continuously licked his Lincoln's mouth and lips. Getting an residue of candy and popcorn off. 

“It’s okay. It’s not far from here,” I lied casually.

I never let people take me home or give me rides even remotely close to where I lived. Lincoln had more than enough money for the both of us. What would he have thought if I showed him my three room apartment?

If I allowed him inside, he would see that I don’t actually have a bed, just a blow up mattress with one single sheet on it. When he opened the fridge to get a soda, he wouldn’t find anything except a half full bottle of mustard, a jar of pickles, and a tub of butter if he was lucky. If he actually found something to eat, he would turn to tfind a place to sit at the dining room table to discover that we didn't even have one. Just a bare dining area that was covered with stained, brown carpet. There was no television like the one at his house. Just a radio tucked into the corner with a long antennea  attached to the end of it and a single, frayed recliner- that smelled like cat pee even though we didn't own a cat- in the entire living room space.

“Okay, well I’ll call you,” Lincoln said, ruffling my hair and smiling my favorite crooked grin of his.

“Sounds good. Don’t miss me too much.”

“You know I will.”

I laughed and blew him and Max a kiss as I rounded the corner and trekked up the stairs. I bid Margret farewell and started on my two mile walk home. At least the rain let up, I thought to myself as small raindrops fell slowly from the sky. It was only drizzling, and I wouldn’t get too wet if I walked quickly. Powerwalking down the sidewalk of Main Street, I felt the drops fall into my pixie cut, blonde, hair.

My stomach gurgled with hunger while I passed the diner, a gas station, and several large, Victorian styled houses. What would it be like to actually live in a nice house where there was always enough to eat every single day? I asked myself as I cut through a green lawn and quickened my pace as the rain’s speed increased. Starting to shiver, I pushed myself to a jog as more and more houses passed by me. The rain dripped into my sapphire eyes and soaked through my torn jeans and pink tee shirt, chilling me to the bone.

Finally, my building came into view. The white paint was chipped and the wooden siding was falling off from the extreme amount of rot. The lawn in front of the apartment building was as tall as my waist and weeds overtook any sign of normal grass. I pulled the green door open, climbed the three flights of stairs, and wandered down the hallway that led to our apartment.

No one ever locked the door since there really wasn’t anything to steal that actually was worth any amount of money. Spotting my mother sitting in the recliner staring out the large window in our living room, I set my damp backpack on the floor and shook out my drenched locks. Taking off my shoes tensely, I cleared my throat as my mother rose from the chair.

“Where have you been?” she demanded as she marched over to me with her nostrils flared, fiercely.

“Over at Lincoln’s. We watched a movie after school,” I answered quietly, feeling very small and insignificant in front of her frightening glare.

“Don’t you have school work to worry about other than some boy who wouldn’t even be remotely interested in you?” she snapped, tapping one foot on the ground with precise rhythm and force.

“It’s not like that, Mother. We are just friends,” I responded robotically, the way I always spoke to her.

She scoffed in my face, sending spit particles directly on my cheeks and forehead. I refrained from wiping them off, because Mother would’ve thought it was a rude gesture, and there would've been another lecture. After the lectuer she would send me to my room without dinner and helped herself to her best friends that were stored in the cabinet to the left of the microwave. Her favorite among them all being named Jack Daniels.

“I have homework to do,” I told her, looking down at my feet that were wet and dripping onto the cracked linoleum floor.

“Fine, next time remember that you would've had your homework done if you weren't slutting around with some boy you barely even know” she sighed as I strode past her and practically sprinted to my room which I call my safe haven.

Closing the door behind me quietly, I flopped onto the air mattress while it threated to pop underneath me. Kids like Lincoln had king sized beds with extra soft comforters and someone to fluff their pillows for them before they went to sleep every night. I barely even had a pillow. Using the same cushion for my head since I was three years old was normal to me along with having no food, no furniture, and barely any of the other necessities it took to live.

My dad had walked out on me and Mother the day I was born. The reason- Me. He didn’t want me. He thought he did when I was forming inside my mother, but he took one look at my tiny, infant face and bolted. It makes sense that Mother had blamed me for his departure everyday after that.

Before I was born I imagine my mom being a powerful young woman. Someone who didn’t take no for an answer and who everyone that she met fell in love with. I believe she actually wore a smile on her face, not a permanent grimace. I bet she took care of her long, chestnut hair so well that it flowed all the way down to the small of her back and even shined in the dimmest lighting possible rather than how it was now- knotted, straggley, and malnourished.

I know that her life along with my father’s were better before I was born. They might have even been together if I hadn’t chosen to come along. It’s all my fault. My life is a burden.