What Has This World Come To?

Chapter 2

When I was in elementary, I was never able to get the pack of 100 crayons with the sharpener on the back. 12 years later and I still can't afford it. I've never been able to buy a VS Pink backpack or even a Five Star spiral notebook. I get the cheapest of everything and that's that. I might complain a lot, but I don't mind. Who cares if I don't have the most expensive mechanical pencils?

The low-income life isn't too bad. I spend most of my time outside instead of playing on a phone or watching TV. I love being in the woods. It was a lot more exciting when I was a child because I didn't have the entire place memorized like I do now. There's a field there surrounded by trees with a stream running through it. No one knows about it except for me. I go there whenever I want to be alone because the sound of the water soothes me.

I wake up to the smell of chicken and waffles. My mom must already be at work because, typically, she makes breakfast, but only my dad knows how to make proper chicken and waffles. He's from Georgia, so he makes a lot of southern classics. He moved to Idaho after meeting my mom because she had a more stable and better paying job here. She's since quit that job and started working at a nursing home to spend more time with her parents. After they died, she continued to work there because she claims that it's good for her mental health and that's more important than any amount of money.

"Breakfast is ready!" My dad calls from the kitchen.

I hear the doors to my siblings rooms open and their feet pattering down the stairs. It's a race every meal with those two. I wonder who's going to get the most perfectly cooked, golden-brown waffle today. Naomi is stealthy, but my money's on Gil.

"How did you get here so fast? I was infront of you on the stairs!" I hear Gil tease as I walk down down the steps.

"I stand corrected," I whisper under my breath.

By the time I get to make my plate, only scraps are left. I grab the remaining two waffles -which are soggy- and the last piece of chicken. The chicken is about the size of my middle finger, but I'm fine with it since I'm not the biggest fan of meat anyway.

"You guys do know that this isn't a race, correct?" I say as I watch them inhale their food.

"If you don't eat fast you don't eat at all," my brother says with his mouth full. "Out of all people, you should know that the best, Winnie."

"My name is Winona and I'm sorry that I like to enjoy my food," I fire back. I hate it when people call me Winnie.

"Your loss," he says and then smirks, satisfied that he got a rise out of me. I see Naomi suppressing the urge to laugh.

I would argue with him, but it's not worth it. He feeds off of that kind of attention. Him and Naomi are closer to each other than they are with me. They always team up against me, but it's all just brotherly/sisterly love, I guess.

"There's a girl my age that just moved in across the street. I'm gonna go over there later if you want to join," Naomi says to us.

"No, thanks. I've already introduced myself to the boy and he was quite rude," I reply.

"He's hot."

"Cool it. You're like 12," Gil interrupts.

"I'm 14 and that doesn't mean I can't appreciate his appearance from a distance," she defends.

They bicker back and forth and I collect their dishes and put them in the dishwasher.

"You should go over there, Win. They've moved from Kentucky, so they don't have any friends here. It's probably been difficult for them," dad interjects.

It's hard to tell my dad no. I admire my dad a lot because he always sticks up for me. He's also the most handsome person I've ever seen and has the biggest heart known to man.

"I'll drop in for a second, but I'm not staying long," I sigh, "and Gilbert also has to come." He hates it when people call him Gilbert.

"My name is Gil," he sticks his chin up and raises the tone of his voice mocking me. Everyone laughs except for me. I seem to be the only one in this house that doesn't find his childish humor funny.

"You're 22, act like it," Our age gap might not be very large, but our maturity gap is.

I go upstairs and Naomi and Gil follow. I decide to wear something more presentable than last time since I'm actually going inside their house and meeting the rest of the family. I wear a white T-shirt with ripped blue jeans and brown combat boots. I throw on an olive green jean jacket to add color. I pull my hair into a messy ponytail and put on a layer of mascara to make it look like I tried.

I sit on the couch in the living room and wait for my siblings to come down. Finally, they do and we exit our small house. My anxiety tells me to stay home, but something in me tells my feet to keep walking. I'm oddly excited to see him again.