I float through the day ignoring anyone and anything. I walk around, going through cigarette after cigarette. Brandon calls me to further our plans, but I say I can't talk now, and I'll call him later. He believes me, which makes me feel bad for lying to him. People glance at me when I walk past, perhaps wondering what I'm doing out alone on such a dreary day. I dont want them to see me. They wont ever understand.
I dig through my tote, pulling out my iPod. I put my headphones on, and crank up the first song its on. It succesfully drowns out all of the strangers footsteps and whispers with friends. I wander, humming along, until 6.00pm,when I decide to call Brandon back. The decision isnt put through, because I choose instead to go to his house.
I knock on the door, hearing the echoes in the house. He opens the door, looking dishelved. I raise my eyebrows, and he smiles sheepishly.
"I was sleeping." he says, staring at my shoes, which are apparently fascinating.
I grin and nod slowly. Brandon secures my wrist in his hand and drags me inside. I cant help but laugh softly. He's so forward. Maybe this could work.
We talk for hours about what we could do. The final decision comes to that we should eat somewhere, and then we could go swim or something.
"Good plan." I say as I stand to stretch.
"Yess ma'am.' He says, watching me.
"Call me tomorrow?" I ask quietly.
"Of course, dear." he replies.
Brandon hugs me just before I walk outside.
I almost wander, but figure my parents are already worried. I arrive home and see how wrong I was. No one's home. There's a post-it attached to the fridge;
Ashley;
Went to dinner. Going to Stacey's for a bit after. D. and T. are with us. We'll be home by 12.00am at the latest.
Love;
Mom.
I frown and sit on the counter top. Was this their way of subtly disincluding me in the family? Most likely. I hang my head in the sink and drink from the faucet until I cant breathe. Then I sit up and swing my legs. I get up, and go to the bathroom, stripping as I go.
By the time Im in the bathroom, Im shivering. I think about how it wasnt my best plan to strip before I got into the safety of the bathroom, but figure it wasnt my worst either. I turn on the water so that the tiny room will heat up and the mirror will fog. I rub my hands up and down the arm opposite of them, trying to create friction.
"Screw it." I mumble and hop into the inferno of water. I yelp at the first touch of the burning water on my icey skin. I slide the curtain around and dance under the water, trying to get the needles of heat to stop. I lather my hair up with shampoo and watch the bubbles when I rinse it go swish! down the drain. I finish all the neccesary proceedures and flip the switch for the drain up. It gurgles and the bath starts to fill up. I slide down into the water. I could've slept there.
I get up before I pass out. I have to pick up my clothes and make it appear that I ate something, and maybe even go run on the treadmill in Mum's 'gym' room. I tightly wind a towel around my midsection and run the hall, swooping to grab clothing itemd. I dump them into my hamper and drop the towel. On goes a bra and a matching pair of panties. On go pinnk shorts and a white cut off tennis t-shirt. I pull my still-wet curls into a messy bun and pad out of my room quietly. I pull on some of her running shoes and step on the treadmill.
I run and run and run. I pay no attention to the surrounding areas. Faster and faster I run until Im so close to exhaustion I can taste it. I finally step off, and then crawl to my room, sweaty, completely defeating my shower's purpose of cleansing me. I strip down again, thossing my shorts and t-shirt in the direction of my hamper. More than likely, both pieces of clothing missed the opening atop the container widely. I slip into my bed, under my warm comforter and fall asleep at 12:49.
Alarm blaring, Mom screaming. That's my wake up call at 4.33am. I sit up, wondering what is possibly going on. Most people are asleep right now. Pushing my bangs back into the rest of my hair, I walk out of my room and to the den. My eye's are slightly fuzzy, and I just see Tara holding something against her head. It doesnt connect. Mom's still screaming bloody murder.
"Mom! Shut up!" I yell above her screams and Dominic trying to console her to quiet down. She looks at me a bit shocked. I shake my head, ruining an effort to keep my bangs from my eyes. I wonder where Dad is. Turning away from them, I see why she was screaming so loudly. No longer with it pressed against her temple, Tara's throwing a handgun into the air and catching it. She looks at ease. My jaw drops. She smiles and tucks it back into the position it was in when I arrived.
"You're nuts." I whisper. She nods and throws the gun at me.
