Little Miss Babysitter

-- 15 --

Then, I smiled. It was small, but it would still be under the 'smile' category.

"Th, thanks." I blushed, feeling my pants. "Um, that means a lot. --Can I use anyone's phone to ring my mom? After the house burn extravaganza, I haven't really found out where she's been, and my phone's dead."

I scanned the table for a willing volunteer, only to come up empty handed. I frowned in disappointment, when Rog cleared his throat.

"Knock yourself out." He laughed, handling me his iPhone. I thanked him, before trotting up from the table, and to a nearby pillar so I wouldn't disrupt their ongoing conversations.

Plugging in her cellphone number, I heard it ring a couple of times, four to be exact, before she picked up.

"Yuh, hello?" She said groggily, her voice containing a sort of sodden feel to it. "Whaddya want?"

"Ma, it's me. You okay?" I said easily, although a constricted edge to her tone made me worry, a touch.

"Yu-ss. Actually, no. I,I,I was at the bar, and a very nice gentleman offered me a beer." She oozed, her voice coming out squeaky and distorted. And a tad bit drunk. "I said, what the heck. Why not? B-But now, I regret it, 'cos I forgot what I had... d'to tell ya."

"You've been drinking?" I said, the frown evident in my tone. She'd been clean, six months now, and of course she'd have to break, eventually. I just thought she'd be stronger this year, than all others. This always happens. Dammit.

I try to push it down, make it seem like it doesn't affect me, but the broken excuse of a family under the name of Fischer simply won't do anymore. With a barely functioning mother who makes a hardly steady income, as well as a growing daughter and a dog, of whom I miss greatly, you'd think we'd be moderately happy. Why, with the lack of a drunkard father who would most likely mooch of of the money brought in by the rest of us.

Believe me. We are far from perfect.

"What was it..." She nodded off, her train of thought crashing and burning whilst coming up to the station. "I totally forgot. I needed to tell you something... I think about a rose?"

I pinched the bridge of my nose, hoping to ease some of the built of swelling behind my eyes, but to no avail.

"I swear I wrote it down somewhere..." I heard her mumble, before the line went dead.

Anger fueled my muscles, and I stomped back to the table, slopping into my seat. The table immediately grew silent, the billions of eyeballs drawing towards me.

"Nothing. Plain nothing." I heaved my hands onto my face, and let out an aggravated groan.

"Wait." Russell came out of no where, laying his palms onto the hard surface beneath the strewn wrappers that dotted the table. "I want to remember this moment. --Excuse me, m'aam? Can you take our picture?"

"Oh, great. This way, you can remember my pain, rather than constantly strive to make it real all the time," I spat at Russell's back before some hands shot out and clamped my mouth shut.

"Relax." Jason commanded, his eyes kind yet forceful. "He only wants to take a picture. What's so wrong with that?"

"Get off." I faked a gag, and pried his hands from my face, shrivelling into my seat as far backwards as I can. "He ruined my life."

At this, Jason frowned. It appeared as if he was lightly disappointed, but I knew that was far from the case. His eyebrows drew together, big and bushy. Was it me, or did he look sad?

"Did he really ruin you to the extent that you can't be happy anymore?"

His words rang through my ears like a blasting and domineering buzzer. -to the extent that you can't be happy anymore?