Him & I

3

Pamela's overpampered white cat is about the only reason I hate being neighbours with Pamela. Coupled with her terrible singing, but at least I don't usually have to deal with that this early in the morning.

While the house on our left is empty, the Williams have been living on the right, next to us since... well, since we moved here. And I think that helped build our friendship the better, that's after we moved past the why-the-hell-are-you-climbing-in-through-my-window phase. I mean, she still does but I don't find it creepy anymore.

Now, literally all her flaws are perfect to me. Her endless talking, her insane love for pink, her bratty feeling of entitlement - it's all good 'cause she's also sweet, caring, and drives me home every-single-motherloving-day as dad refuses either my sister or me driving on our own. He'd arranged for me to always come home with one of his drivers from work, but it's honestly better riding with a best friend.

I pull my white silk curtains to the side entirely, eyes searching for any signs of her rude pet. None. Don't even know why I keep looking out for her, I guess it's just part of the routine for her to come out at this time, stare at me for a couple of seconds before rolling her eyes and going back in.

The sky's indigo blue and not pitch black, indicating it's around five am and that it might rain. It's been raining in this part of Colorado for a while, I guess it usually does around August. All stars are hidden by now, except one, making the sky look... cute. Yeah, cute.

Nevertheless, I slide open the screen door that leads to my beach-themed balcony - something I think I wasted too much time and money on. More time than money anyway, since all expenses were on dad's account. It didn't come out the way I'd expected. But the thing is, I don't know what I was expecting. Probably should've just left it all to mother-nature as there's a giant palm tree outside helping add effect to the theme with one of it's branches wavering by the railings and it's the realest... beachy thing in here.

I quietly slide the doors open, though. My dad shouldn't see me here.

Although, with how he hasn't caught me for so long, I'm starting to doubt he'll ever. I'd say I'm an expert at sneaking out, if I wasn't so shit at it. You'd think I'd be pro after eight years but I'm really not, not even close. All I've probably learnt is how not to scream while jumping off my balcony, and that's 'cause I've got siblings. And when you've got siblings, you learn things quickly.

At least, my type of siblings.

Them catching me is as good as my dad or even worse 'cause they're snitches. Both of them. My tiny skunk of a brother would probably blackmail me yet still tell some day anyway, and for my sister... well, she could be nice so I don't know what she'll do. But the last thing I wanna do is find out.

Perhaps if I didn't desire some kind of alone time, I wouldn't need to sneak out this early to the most serene part of my street. Perhaps if there wasn't an ocean there, dad would willingly let me go through the front doors and everything. Perhaps if I hadn't tried to drown that one day, I wouldn't have to sneak out.

That was many years ago, though, and I would never try that again. Guess some things just never get forgotten.

I take a seat on the silver railings around the sides, swinging my legs over so they're dangling in the cold air. Pamela's cat is still not up. Why even am I looking out for her? I guess it's just always been part of the routine see a ball of white fur with eyes that roll at me before going back in the house.

After a few seconds of prep-talk - that never really works for me to be honest , I lean off the rails, get to the safest place to jump down from and... well, jump.