Candy Girl

bitch, you're a meme

"Evans, hopefully you were as good at making animals noises as being a wide receiver, so your butt didn't have to spend that much in the bench." I warned Evan's stupid little jokes. His friends joined with a chorus of soft chuckles and that shut him up for good. I glanced back at Sebastian with a bored expression waiting for him to speak up.

"Just wanted to ask if you were sitting with anyone at lunch."

"I wouldn't sit with your ass with even if you had VIP passes to a Harry Style's concert." I said as I rolled my eyes and walked away. This fucking guy, he thought I needed help finding people to eat in lunch with? He thought I was so kind of loser? I got school like I was snatching in my vintage True Religion. I walked at a quick pace through the hallway as some losers thought it would funny to bleat. I stopped at the sight of some random girl who wouldn't stop grinning at me. She bleat at my face. I grabbed her by the face and smashed her against the locker.

"Couldn't hear you, care to repeat it?" I said as I pressed her face further against the locker. The voices were shut down by my actions and the silence filled the hallway.  The girl complained, and tried to get a whole of my hand, but couldn't set herself free.

"I'm sorry," she said, "I'm sorry."

I finally let go of her, some of her friends came over to help her ugly-ass-forever21-jeans stand up. "Oh my god, Arielle, are you okay?" They asked.

"If anyone has anything to say, you can say it to my face," I warned. "I hear one more bleat out of any of you and I'll crush your head through the wall. Tweet that."

When I say I can take care of my myself, I mean it. No one had my back, like I did.

***

Getting home was a relief after such a long day at school. I had to ask Jules Avon to drop me home since mom was still at work. I wasn't taking to any of my friends 'till the story of me crushing Arielle's face tweets got in their feed. When I opened the door, I frowned, I heard noises in the kitchen. As I entered the house, I noticed the luggage next to the living room.

Oh, no, dad was fucking back. My dad worked as an architecture, a very ambitious architecture that had no bigger dream than building a skyscraper in New York City. But was stuck in Florida designing department stores in the Saul Flames & Co. Dad had been jobless for a while since he often tried to get into popular business labels where he could build his skyscraper. I don't know why, but they all said no to him. A very nice guy from New York offered him an average job in Ocala, which was where Saul Flames's located. He tried to move us to Ocala, Florida, but my mom refused. To mom, it was like moving from Los Angeles to the Amazones. A completely opposite continent for starters when it was just five hours away by car. Saul Flames & Co had apparently a same business family with a different name in New York, which highly persuaded my dad to stay in Florida. I guess he thought if he worked hard enough he would get promoted and moved to New York.

Dad made average money, he made enough. But mom and dad believe were rich, until pay bills arrived, of course. It just pissed me off how they could spent so much money in stuff they couldn't afford. How my mom demanded to go to Europe for vacations, and afterwards my dad and her were fighting over the bills. She could really loosen up her mouth when she was stressed. It wasn't like this at first, I didn't know why, but three years before she wasn't as aggressive as now. It was like she didn't think before she spoke, like she didn't care if she hurt with her words.

I didn't even greeted him, I went straight upstairs hoping I could avoid the awkward salutation that happened every single time he came home. It was incredible how he went from my own personal hero to a complete stranger. I remember how much I loved him when I was younger, and now, it was completely different.

"Hey, Serenity." He said as he realized I was home. He is stuffing a piece of ham and cheese in his fingers. I don't know since when I viewed my dad like some kind of rat assaulting the fridge. I guess I learned to despised him. My mom's favorite sport was to criticize him. But the thing about mom was; she loved criticizing, even her own kids.

"Mom will be here in any minute, I wouldn't be caught hanging eating without a plate."

I reach my room and honestly, a hot warm bath with my LUSH bath bombs seemed like the best idea ever. I'm in the middle of my shower when I listen to the main house door closing really strongly. That had to be mom who had just gotten back from work.

"Oh, no. You're back again?" She hissed.

Her footsteps are heavy against the wooden floor and echo all through the house. I shake my head, "Alexa! Can you play Doja Cat?" I asked her trying to mute out my parents soon to begin argument. Both of my parents voice raise up, and suddenly the volume of my music can't overcome their shouting. I feel this violent movement shaking up the house. I frown and stay still. My mom is rushing upstairs, I hear something crash against the door. I put on some clothes and rush outside my door.

"What's going on?" I shouted as I stand right behind the door. She's throwing everything she can to him. They don't listen to me, I raise my voice, but they go on. My mom's hair all over her face, my dad has his teeth clenched, he backs up. His luggage lies on the floor and his clothes are everywhere.

"I told your dad he's not putting his stuff in my room. He can go rent a hotel."

"Your room? This is my house too!"

This makes my dad furious as he rushes toward her, my mom screams in fear. She runs, but she's not quick enough. He grabs my mom aggresively by the hair.

"Dad!" I screamed, "Dad don't!" The scene follows with my dad pushing her horribly against the closet. She tries to set herself free, constantly tries to kick him furiously.

"STOP!" I begged, "Stop!" It doesn't matter how much I try. There's only shouts and cursing.  I try to think, I'm scared, I'm so scared.

"Call the police," my mom says playing the victim card. I grab a whole of my hair, desperate, confused. I think of the consequences, they probably take my dad to jail. I don't want my dad to go to jail, my dad is not a bad person. I can't think straight. I don't know what to do, my brain feels like it's been torn. What should I do? What's the right thing to do? This happened every damn time dad came home from work. I tried to keep them apart, so they wouldn't kill each other. But the moment my dad lets go of her, she aims the clock and any possible item at him.

"Mom! Stop it!" I said. He races away from her and she follows. In the process, I try to come in between them, but they are so caugh up in their fight that somehow end up sending me flying across the room. My body smashed against the floor, my hands managed to keep my face safe, I raised my head. I was a few centimeters away from the staircase. My body shook at the closeness of it, my eyes were open widely as my heart beat echoed inside my head.

My mother and dad rushed towards me, "Serenity, are you okay?" My dad asked. 

"Oh dear God! Dear fucking God Serenity, baby, I'm so sorry." My mom apologized. 

I felt my eyes being filled up with tears, my mom tried to help me out. "Don't touch me," I warned them as I stood up slowly. I walked over to my room and closed the door behind me. Like I said, no one had my back, but me.