Mickey's Mad House

[ o6 ] She wore an itsy-bitsy, teeny-weeny, pink leopard print bra-zeeny

Mickey’s Mad House

[ o6 ] She wore an itsy-bitsy, teeny-weeny, pink leopard print bra-zeeny.

When I opened my eyes on Friday morning, I felt the slight ache in my neck. Placing a hand to my neck, I massaged it softly while looking around me in a sleep haze. Then, the pink sticky note that I had stuck to the roof of my car made itself known to me. Check Today!! It read. And of course, that simple fact brought a smile to my face as I sat up. The seat squeaked under my weight like every other day but I could really care less. I wonder how much I made.

     I felt excited as I ruffled through my clothes. This giddiness caused me to actually try when it came to my appearance. I hadn’t felt this nervous since high school… (Of course, high school was only a few months ago). More specifically, a dinner party my father had held last March. My sister had attended and I just knew that she would outshine me. My brother had been off to college and impressed everyone there even though he wasn’t actually present. Being the third child was a difficult task. I had to work to be remembered. My sister accomplished English like a pro and my brother accomplished sports in the same manor. And there I was, not wanting to be forgotten like usual, trying my hardest in math and science. Trying my hardest to not become an echo in my family.

     I shook my head from the memory and looked at the outfit in my hand. Black jeans and a form fitting white V necked shirt. Simple is the best when trying to look like you weren’t trying. I slipped on my jeans first before looking around me to see if the coast was clear. Then, I tugged my nightshirt over my head. Or at least, I tried. “Awe, Chat!” I cried as my shirt got caught on my earing. Seriously, why was this always happening to me? As I tried my hardest to untangle the shirt from my earing, I wondered how painful it would be to just ripe these little butts out.

     Tug… “Ow!” okay that was really painful. But I was still caught.

     “Larz,” a voice suddenly spoke. “Were you lying to me…” no answer was given in return—that I could hear of. But I couldn’t care about listening into their conversation. What I cared about was the fact that Larz was once again walking by my car when I had my shirt tangled in my earing. Seriously, this has happened twice in three weeks. I bet he was doing this on purpose… the little pervert. And he wasn’t alone this time.

     I ducked my head under the windowsill, still with my arms tangled in my shirt and a hand holding my throbbing ear lobe. I couldn’t see anything and I hoped that I was hiding well enough so that they couldn’t see me. “That’s her car…?” Larz’s companion said. There was a familiarity to the second voice that I couldn’t quite place. “That’s a shitty car…” Larz, in answer, grumbled nonsense under his breath. Was it just me, or did that sound like they were taking a fieldtrip to see someone’s car?

     They were getting closer to my car and a panic began to set. I tried to tuck myself farther down to not be seen and wiggled about all tangled up. I soon realized that this was not working. So, what was I supposed to do other than dive onto the floor of my back seat, violently and recklessly?

     “Oh, my cracker jacks!!” I screamed in pain as my shirt was ripped loose from my earing. I could feel my earing throb in pain and I cupped it with tears gathering in the corner of my eyes. My shirt was off, my hair was a mess, I was laying plane as day on the floor of my car, my legs were half on the seat and half off, and my ear hurt like crazy. I couldn’t care less about who was outside of my car because the pain made me momentarily forget.

     “Was that a dying cat?” Someone joked and I could hear the smile in their voice. I could now hear their footsteps coming closer to my car. And then, as I looked up out the window in wait, a single face peered in squinty eyed. “Hey!” none other then Jake shouted. “Look, it’s Mickey!” Jake turned from me and looked to Larz behind him. With his head turned away, he began banging on my window with his pointer finger, shouting things like “you were right”, “she really is living in a car” and “and she has a pink leopard print bra on!”