Caught in the Middle

Why does this have to happen to me?! Chapter 6

I wish I don’t look the way I do. My eyes are too big and my nose isn’t very straight and long. My lips are too fat, puffy and red. How the heck can I be the only one in this family who is ugly?!

My brothers are the idols of the school. They are both good looking what with their jet black hair, Andrew’s really dark brown eyes and Ryan’s light brown ones. Both work out but Ryan is more dedicated to it. Andrew is really smart and all of his academics are AP. His non-academics are so-so. Ryan is the opposite. His non-academics are really high especially in sports while the academics are so-so.

Louisa, my younger sister, is really cute. She also has jet black hair and brown eyes. She sometimes excels in academics and sometimes excels in the non but never at the same time. No one really knows why. It’s always been just one or the other.

Why am I the only one with violet eyes? I don’t even know if it’s normal. And my hair! It’s like it doesn’t want to choose between black and brown so it made the color both! When it’s dark, my hair turns black. When it’s light, it turns brown. On normal circumstances, it’s both. To top it all of, my hair is straight at the top and wavy and curly at the ends. No matter how many times I brush it, it refuses to straighten out completely.

My friends say I have an hourglass figure but I don’t think so. I want it to be but I feel it’s bordering on rectangle. As in no curves or if there is, barely there. I find this really sad. Another weird thing about me is, my legs are longer than my torso. I'm not kidding.

My personality is normal, at least. If normal means an obsession with anything with romance, being deathly afraid of horror (I can't sleep. I get a lot of nightmares when I do. I jump at every little sound and there's supposed to be light everywhere I go.) and being incredibly impatient but being patient when concerning friends and, if I'm in the mood, family. I admit I'm girly at times and tomboy-ish at others. At the rest, I'm in between. That's why I'm friends with Julie and Jess.

Well, that and the fact that they've been my seatmates since first grade whenever we were supposed to sit according to our last names due to the fact that Jess's last name is Sabel while Julie's is Somers. Believe it or not, we hated each other. I remember the teacher would get really pissed off at us all the time. This all changed when they saw Rosalind push me around. Literally. That's why I always came home with a new injury. When they saw this, they just marched up to Rosalind and told her stuff that a seven year old should not know. That was the first time I saw her cry. I'm not sadistic or anything but it was really satisfying. Since then, I've been hanging out with the two and Rosalind stays away, at least until I'm left alone. It turns out, they were just playing when we fought.

I learned to fight back, though. I mean, answer back. I would, however, love to actually hit her. Now, I am saying again, I am not sadistic. I just take great pleasure in seeing that particular person cry. Stupid dyed blonde bitch.

I get out and go through the door beside the bathroom's. This one leads to my closet. My really big walk-in closet. Seriously, I can fit a bed in it!  The left side is full of my tops. The other is for the bottoms. You know, skirts, shorts and jeans. The back is full of dresses. Both the left and the right are divided into two more parts: the girly ones and the guy-ish ones.

I hate shopping so Jess kind of takes care of that for me. Of course, she uses my money. Jess loves it so much (the shopping, not the money), she is thinking of becoming a fashion designer. She is so addicted to it! She always buys the latest issues of magazines like Vogue so all my clothes are in style. Well, exceot for my sweats, old t-shirts and boxers. Of course, these are only worn at home.

One might wonder where my parents are in the picture. Most of the time, they aren't. They are always off an what they call business trips but what we call vacations.

My mom and dad have jet black hair and brown eyes, the standard Sanders look. My mom's eyes are the same shade as Ryan's while Louisa's and Andrew's are like my dad's. All of us are of average height. Andrew, Ryan and I get our mom's slenderness and disability to grow fat while Louisa gets our dad's-um, how do you say it nicely-massive built-in flotation device but that's what makes Louisa really adorable.

My parents put a lot of importance to our hotel business. On the rare occasions when they come home, they act pissy and want us to stay out of the way. Then the next day, they are either gone, or want to see us so we can "bond".

This bonding consists of us greeting them, talking about school and the business then, around this time, them zeroing in on what we are doing. Even if we just stand there, they find something wrong and call us names best be censored. Just imagine us standing, them sitting on the couch in the living room, their mouths opening and closing and the only thing you hear is the really long bleep. Keep in mind, Louisa is there.

When they are done "correcting" us, they turn to Louisa and talk to her kindly. She is excempted from the parent bleeping at her. You can see the favoritism clearly.

At first, we resented her for it but later on, we realized it wasn't her fault to begin with. Plus, we're kind of glad she doesn't go through it. All hostilities stopped then.

After they praise her, they go to the airport to board the private jet. At leasr they gave Andrew, Ryan and me credit cards for our thirteenth birthdays. Louisa just tells us what she wants or needs and we buy it for her. We are careful to not spoil her, though.

Did I mention the cards have no limit? But we can't make full use of it because it gives the parents more reason to scream at us. Not that they'll notice the difference, but still. The only time, other than the visits, we know they remember us is during Christmas, New Year and our birthdays. They don't come or call. Instead, they send extravagant gifts. We prefer it this way.

The sound of a woman screaming then childern's laughter brings me back from my reverie and makes me jump and my heart stop. I also scream as loud as I can. What the heck?! I hurriedly dress in boxers and one of my loose t-shirts. Then I hear laughter. Not children's laughter, mind you.

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Honestly, this happened to me in real life. It turned out to be a video I was loading.... I was so creeped out, I screamed and refused to go out when it was dark. Or maybe that was because I read True Philippine Ghost Stories.... *shudder*