Wasted Time(s)

9:00

I was being pulled out of the school, stumbling a little as my mother pulled me by my arm to the car.

"I don't understand you." She said in a harsh tone as she tugged.

"Mom, I-"

"Callate!" She said clenching her teeth. Making me shut up.

She opened the door, pushing me in. She was sick of me. I knew it. I think this might've been her last straw or something.

I buckled myself, and she put on a child lock because once I made a joke about opening the door and jumping out and dying.

She took that seriously.

I didn't say anything, just sat there looking at my lap as my mother sat on the driver's side. Glaring at me in the review mirror.

My father did not dare say a word. Especially not to me, or my mother. He did not dare talk when she was like this. In fear of saying something wrong. Me, as well.

They used to love me. I guess it's my fault. I mean, I hate school. I told my school about everything the kids would say or do to me. They didn't believe me.

There were a few meetings because of me, because I was making 'false accusations'. My parents have been disappointed in me, many times. They believed the school because they felt my education was important and wanted me to get a good college job and good money.

Maybe I don't want good money. Maybe I started to rebel against the school. Cause the school trouble. Why? Because I feel they deserve it. And they do. Or did.

I feel my parents just think I'm in a little phase, that I want attention. They said I was wasting their time by them having to come to the school so often for me. Because of me.

They said that, I was a waste of time.

Waste of space, time, money, yadadadada.

Whatever. I just wished they would treat me like they used to. But it's not their fault. If you change, it's bound that the people around you change as well. They changed towards you.

You have an influence on the people who surround you. This influence isn't always good. It's your choice. And obviously, I didn't make a good choice. I didn't make a lot of good choices.

I've tried. You think I haven't? I'm don't give up that easy. I'm just not good at some things. Sometimes I wonder how my parents would be if I just was never here.

Would they be happier? Wealthier? Loving?

Maybe it's not cause of my presence. Maybe it's because of my change.

It was my change, my choice. I regret it but at the same time don't.

When my parents ask me why, I tell them I regret it. I regret the way I am now, but I don't say the second part.

I feel saying 'some part of me doesn't regret how I am now' is selfish. It's selfish because I like it and no one else does. It's not what my parents want. They say I'm a disappointing person.

Am I?

Because, I think myself that I am a thrill.

People say soulmates are real. I don't think so. Because, I've been around enough people in my life. I've been basically around the world. In different towns, cities, countrys, continents.

You'd think I'd have found someone after all this time. But I haven't. Why is that?

Because they arent't real.

Nobody gets you, or understands you more than you do yourself.

And the thing is, I don't even know if I understand myself. So there's no chance that miraculously, there's someone out there that is my missing peice. One that I get, and one that just gets me.

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I sit on the couch after my parents had told me they need to talk. To talk to me. They sit across from me.

"Ehm.. Aphenia-" My father speaks for the reason that if my mother does, she will shout it in anger or frustration. As if that'll make me understand better.

"We cannot... provide for you anymore." He says wearily, like saying a certain word would make me burst and explode.

I sat. Sinking into the couch. That could mean many things. What's it supposed to mean? I regret everything now. Everything.

I wanna start over. I don't wanna even be here. It was my fault. Have they really given up?

After all these... years?

All this time?