Please vote and comment if you enjoy :)
"Quit kicking me or I'll stab you with this fork!"
"Never!" I squealed, but stopped kicking when she raised her fist to throw an apple at me.
We were sitting at the kitchen table eating breakfast before we had to catch the bus to go to school, I was on watch duty so I sat directly across from a window. So far, only one of the short busses had passed but that Twinkie-on-wheels only picked up the Special-Ed kid down the street.
"Can I have one of your sausages?" My sister, Lane, asked as she finished swallowing her last one.
"Nope!" I replied and scarfed them all down just to annoy her even more.
She rolled her dark eyes at me. She brushed off my actions, like she didn't care; however, deep inside her nerves something snapped.
You could see it in her log brown eyes with chips of tan in them that a fire was started. Her mind was a bomb and her temper was like TNT.
I had ignited it.
I swung my short legs back and forth under the tall kitchen table, accidentally kicking her with my right foot and causing my untied sneaker to slip off.
She only looked up to give me a long cold glare, and then eyed her breakfast of bacon and eggs.
Lane scraped her metal fork along the clear glass plate, in the shape of rising flames, pushing the actual food on it near the edge.
The sharp squeaks of the forks steel teeth against the glass plate agitated my mother, making her aggressively slap down strips of bacon on a hot pan.
I cringed at the thought of calling her 'mother' or even considering Lane as my sister, its not like I detested them. Although I did, the real problem was that they treated me like a rag doll. This wasn't a family. It was a nightmare.
"Those boys are still out there..." I blurted, watching two boys around my age walk down the street again. They had been walking back and forth on the strip of road in front of our house since dawn.
Lane turned her head to look out the window at them, she seemed uneasy this morning and wasn't eating much. Something was bothering her.
"Mom, I'm really not feeling well, can I please miss school?" Lane asked nonchalantly, playing with her cooled scrambled eggs that had been sitting on her plate for ten minutes. Sliding them from side to side on the small plate and I watched as some slipped right off and slid onto the floor.
I cocked an eyebrow at her strange behavior; she was obviously in perfect health condition and had absolutely no reason to stay home. She appeared to be in deep thought, a frown almost noticeable on pink lips. Her eyes seeped in sorrow, but there was a glint of mischief in the coffee brown color.
I didn't trust her.
It was the fourth time she had asked to skip school, and my mom was more than beyond annoyed.
She scraped at her scalp with her fingernails, pulling at the roots of her thick curly black hair. I turned my head to the right to glance at her, her eyes were surrounded by wrinkles even though she was only in her mid-thirties, she had strings of grey coming out of her head from all the stress she had to go through daily. Overall, she looked unsatisfied and I worried I would never be happy in life either.
My mother's eyes were obscure, not charcoal black like my fathers, or coal black like mine.
They were just a bleak black and had no tint to them.
I followed her gaze to the wall, where a picture of my brother and father at a younger age hung, my brother was six then and my Dad almost forty. The picture was taken two years ago but it was the most recent one we had in our entire house. She was looking for a reason not to just shoot her brains out, yet she only saw what was anchoring her to the earth.
I thought she should've shot her brains out.
