THE CALL OF HER

13

Your mother sips at her coffee, staring blankly at the television. "When I get older, I wanna be a vet." You blurt. The warm blanket the covers you is pulled up to your chest as you yawn, the morning is still fresh and you're still tired.

"That's a good paying job." Your mother murmurs, setting her coffee onto the coffee stand beside the couch.

You look at your mother, and go over her features. When looking in the mirror, you see her. When she looks in the mirror, she see you? Her hands shake, the dark circles under eyes are defined  by the sun light that shines in through the living room window.

"I know, but college would be hard." With a groan, you turn to rest your head against your mothers shoulder. 

"The Aztecs worked the mountains into cities, the Egyptians built pyramids, Martin Luthern King jr. led a protest that would change lives." Your mother says, looking down on you. Her hand lays to rest on your knee, and she holds it. "So, I'm sure you can go to college." 

"And yet, I'm none of those people." You mutter, closing your eyes.

"Ladies! Breakfasts ready!" Your dad shouts from the kitchen, but you are to tired to get up.

"Kate and Y/N if you don't get you're asses out here you'll get no breakfast!" You shoot up on the couch, and tare away from your mother. Looking back at her, there's no one to lock eyes with. Tumbling off of the couch, you run into the kitchen to find it empty.

The stove on fire, and sink gushing water. "Dad?! Mom?!" You shout, running to the stove. You manage to turn it off, and slide over to the sink to grab a dirty bowl and fill it with running water, only to turn and splash it onto the burning stove. You feel yourself loose balance, and let go of the bowl to reach for something to hold yourself up on.

Connecting your cheek onto the stove, it burns through your flesh. 

You open your eyes to the blindness of sun, forcing it's way in through the window above you. With a groan, you groggily push yourself up to a sitting position on the bed. Looking around, you relocate yourself to be in the guest bedroom of a man named Jeff's house. 

Taking in a deep sigh, you look down and to your right to see Kate still stuck in slumber. The yellow of the sun makes Kate's pale skin shine a dusty yellow, the little fuzz on her cheeks dazzle like little stars. 

Kate's dark brown hair oozes over her shoulders, leading to split ends on her lower back and chest. Her breast is poking from her tank top, making you quietly giggle. Slowly, you move the blanket to cover her. Her arms are littered with white and pink scars, all made in rigid ways. Some, though, catch your eye. Some line along each other, the same depth and direction. 

Her hips are like hills, her stomach flat and lined with stretch marks. Before she left society to join this posse of unwanteds, she was a pudgy loud girl, that kept true to others around her and felt the need to do everything so everyone felt like they did it, too.