This F@cking Place that I Call Home

This ******** Place that I Call "Home"

Hey people who have somehow found this story (lol). Read it all the way through and leave me a comment on what I messed up horribly (I will fix it) or if you liked it you should totally vote and follow, but that's only a suggestion, lol.

____________________________________

 I'm a klutz, just to say the least. That said, I have no idea what thought (or lack thereof) must have passed through my mom's head when she put me in charge of taping up boxes. It was my job to go to room to room with the industrial tape dispenser and, ya know, tape up the boxes. Not rocket science, I know. I didn't really have a problem with it until much later, and after the fact, that I was and still am to this day, a stupid klutz.

And here I was in the small ass kitchen of our small ass rinky dink one bedroom city apartment, A.K.A. the projects. Needless to say, I've never had a sleep over at my house. I was so happy it was moving day. Scratch that, I was so fucking ecstatic to leave this place. All of this excitement must have clouded my thinking because clearly I did some stupid shit.

My mom set a box atop the fridge, the very last damn box in the room. I'm tall but not a freakish looking bean stalk. Let's just geusstimate 5'7, I haven't been to a doctor in some years so I wouldn'tt exactly know. Anyway, I'm tall but certainly not tall enough to tape a box on top of a fridge. So to help with this vertical challenge, I grabbed one of our "dining room chairs", it was really a folding chair to a folding card table but at least we could sit down and eat.

I pushed it up to the doors of the fridge -the whole word is just way too much of a mouthful to keep saying, ya know- and stood atop it. I taped up the box, no way in hell I was gonna pick it up to put it down to tape then to pick it up and set down again. That was just way too much for me. Klutz, remember?

As I was using the grooved cutting thing that always gets the tape caught at the end, whatever the name for it is, I heard a loud squeak and then the sound of running. It was our generically named dog, Buster, running after one of his toys. I'll get into why he's named that, but in the meantime you can thank my naive little brother for that. My retard of a dog decided "Fuck going around this chair, I'll go right underneath it." or whatever the equivalent would be in Dog Language. Oh and please note that my dog, who we're technically not supposed to have, is well over the weight limit and just so happens to be the breed that herds sheep. I'll look up the name of that breed later, but everyone knows what you mean when you say "Sheep Herding Dog" right? And it really didn't matter that we had him in there, not like the landlord would come and check on us. As long as we payed the rent on time, they didn't care. (I say they because I've honestly never seen them. Him or Her, whatever they may be.)

Well as the blur of white and gray flew under my chair, he knocked it sideways. Only problem with that was, I was still on top of it!!! And then things went in slow motion. Like that moment when you drop a hot ass curling iron and your barefoot so you pull a matrix type-o-thing before you burn the fuck outta your foot. Or at least something like that right?

And then I started to flail my arms around hoping it would counter act gravity, or land on my feet like Mary Poppins, or some bs like that. It seemed like a good idea at the time. If I had grabbed the fridge, I'm pretty sure it would have fel on me, and I just wasn't in the mood to have me ribcage utterly shattered today. A hospital visit we couldn't afford at the moment.

So I flailed, and all so suddenly I felt a sharp as pain coming from left wrist. I finally hit the floor with a loud "Ooofff", the sound of air forcibly escaping my nose and mouth. My back hurt like hell but my attention was on my wrist. I winced through the pain and managed to look down at it. My had a cuts, gashes all over it. They bled but he real deep damage was direly on my wrist and it bleed like no motherfucking tomorrow. To describe in any further detail would be best described at a suicide attempt half-assed.

I instinctively held it to my chest with my right hand. I wasn't sure what to do at that exact moment in time. Do I scream? A low scream? A high one?Wait, my mom would most likely come running and drop and fully packed box on me thinking I was a rapist of something totally outlandish as such. Simply put, she wasn't the brightest but she was my mom. In the and I groaned what everyone has done at least a thousand times in their lives, "Mom...."

And then my five year old brother came in. Wyatt took one look at me, well most the bleedy mess that was my arm and wrist, and literally fainted right to the floor. I never really understood why he always did that whenever he saw blood but that was him, pussy.

To make this better, or potentially worse, my mom came running into the kitchen. She knelt over Wyatt first. Because apparently in her mind the youngest is more important than the on who feel from a chair and cut up her arm. After all he was five and i was only potentially bleeding to death. no big deal right? Like I said earlier, she wasn't the brightest.

She smacked him on the face a little to wake him up. She gave up, rolling her eyes, and finally came over to me. "Honey," she started. I mentally rolled my eyes at her. She always did that when she was concerned about us or anyone else for that matter.

"You weren't trying to cut yourself, were you?" She asked while helping me up.

I shot her the look, the one Satan taught me himself. (His real name was Stan but that is also another story for another time) And i know that I look like the illegitimate child of a rainbow and the lead singer, or even the bass guitarist, of an emo band. But I know for a fucking fact I didn't, and never will cut myself.

Well at least not on purpose...

"Mom, What the fuck?" I looked down at my wrist and back up to her, making my eyes wide as people normally do when they don't have any free hands.

"Well I just have to make sure, I have to take care of you. And don't use that word with me."

"The last thing you have to worry about is me cutting myself. And its not you haven't heard me cuss before anyway, so what should it matter now?"

"For One, your overly innocent little brother is in the same room as you. And Secondly, I'm your damn mother and what I say goes."

"Yeah, uh-huh. Could we please do something bout this," I raised my bloody wrist to eye level, "before I pass out. That would be great,"

Needless to say she bandaged me up and then we continued packing. Only difference was I wasn't anywhere near anything remotely sharp, which included the kitchen as a whole.

Later that day the moving truck came. We -my mom, the moving guys, and I- Loaded the big pieces of furniture into the truck. Wyatt was on door duty. He really couldn't do anything else. Five year olds aren't really good for anything, well besides being overly gullible. That's always great for a good laugh.

When all that was said and done, the boxes that were left over were loaded into our crappy ass minivan . My mom returned our keys to the still rather nonexistant (in my world) landlords and we slept in the car. Which was the worst experience of my life. It's like sharing the smallest bedroom with a loud ass snoring woman and an over active sleeper, Wyatt, tossing and turning in the back seat.

And then there was me. I was up all night texting my friends the "Good Byes" and how much fun we had together and ho much I would miss them. The whole shin dig, if you will. This sucked moving to a small ass boony town where incest was common and I would be lucky if I met one person with all their -real- teeth still in their mouth.

I found out later that I was dead wrong.

*************************************************************************************************************************

So Leave me a comment or vote or like or whatever have you. I know that it just started out and I've already used "Fuck" a cubic butt load of times. It's rated R for a reason. Anyway, I'll most likely post more chapters this weekend end. Trust me, there's going to be more dialogue and humor soon to come.