Every Second Counts

Every Second Counts (2)

CHAPTER 2

I could hear that terrible beeping noise before I could even open my eyes or get my body to function. I reluctantly rolled over and slammed my half asleep hand down onto my stupid, small black beeping device. As soon as the back of my hand met the hard material of my alarm clock I let out a yelp. Well at least my hand was awake and all the pins and needles I felt were gone now, but that was probably the stupidest thing to do because now the back of my hand hurt like crazy.

I just went on with my morning though and tried to ignore my hand. Of course it wasn’t broken but it still hurt like crazy. Anyways, I managed to pull myself up out of bed and then I lazily made my way to the bathroom. I turned the shower on but as soon as I spun around to look at myself in the mirror I almost screamed as if Bloody Mary was right there looking back at me.

Of course it was just my own reflection but oh my goodness did I ever look terrible. My normal smooth, curly, blond hair was tied at the back of my head and sticking out everywhere. I had a pony tail in before I went to bed, but it must have fallen out to create this mess. My eyes looked just dreadful, tired and droopy and they looked as if they would close any second now. I figured right then that I would need to spend a lot of time trying to fix this; time I didn’t have since I had to go in to school today. Lucky me.

After scrubbing down in the shower and washing my hair thoroughly I finally turned off the hot water. Of course I stood there for a few extra minutes, which soon turned my shower into a twenty minute shower. I was soon out of the bathroom and sprinting down the hallway, my towel wrapped tightly around my body as I raced to my room so that I could quickly get changed.

I immediately started yanking clothes out of my drawer, throwing them on the floor when I knew I would have to clean them up after I got home. I just pulled out a pair of skinny, navy blue jeans and a dark purple long sleeve shirt to wear. I mean, for a random outfit I do pick really good clothes when I’m in a rush. I just shrugged the clothes on and quickly brushed through my wet hair. I let my blonde hair flop down around my shoulders as I grabbed my black coat, shrugging it on as I picked up my school bag from where it was left last night and bolted out of my bedroom.

“Adriana!” My mom called as I ran down the hallway and burst into the kitchen.

“I know, I'm going mom!” I sighed as I dashed into the kitchen, running past her as she attempted to put on one of her pearl earnings in the middle of the kitchen. She was dressed in her formal clothes consisting of a navy blue blazer over top of her white dress shirt which was tucked into the waist of her navy blue pencil skirt. She had her hair down like normal, probably refusing to do anything with it again.

That was how my mom always dressed though. She would always be getting ready to go to an important business meeting or she would come home and flop down on the couch after taking a Tylenol and unbuttoning the top button of her blouse. She apparently used to always tie her hair back in a tight bun when she was younger, but not any more I guess.

My mom worked as a business women at a high ranked business or something. She was apparently the manager or something, but she didn’t like to talk about her work that much with me so I had no idea to be honest here. I mean, I was her own kid and she didn’t like to talk about it? I don’t mind though, really. She works fairly long hours that are always changing so she seems to almost always be on the move.

Of course that meant I had learned to fend for myself even from a young age. I've pretty much lived on my own for as long as I can remember. My mom was still there of course, but she just didn't seem like the mom she was suppose to be as I grew up. She was never really there for me, but that was just how I grew up. I guess you could say i got used to it after awhile. It felt like I didn't even have her there in my childhood sometimes.

There was this one time when I had this big dance recital. It was the first year I had decided to do dance, and I was nervous and anxious. Of course all of the mothers were in the  dressing room before the show getting their hair done, or having their tutu fluffed while I sat in the corner. My dane instructor, Ms. Nancy I think her name was, has assured me that my mom was on her way and that I should look for her in the crowd. 

I did as she said and searched for my mom in the fairly large crowd all seated to watch the recital. I looked, before, during, and even after the show. She never came. 

My own mom had missed what I thought was the biggest moment of my life back then. All of the moms and dads would greet the other kids in the class with flowers, huge hugs, watery eyes. Mine didn't. 

She didn't even come to pick me up after the recital was over. I had to stay an extra hour with Ms. Nancy as she helped clean up and wait for my mom to get me. I'm pretty sure she got so fed up that she decided to look up my mom's number and phone her. I can still remeber the furious look she had in her eye as she talked to my mom. After the phonecall though, she had turned to me, this terrible, appologetic look in her eye as she explained that my mom had a business meeting she had to attened. That night Ms. Nancy had driven me home.  

I just waved a goodbye to my mom as she grabbed her keys and purse off the kitchen table where she had placed them. She fixed her skirt before hurrying around and grabbing her coat which she quickly slid into. This was just how my life was. She didn’t wave, or say anything as she pressed her phone to her ear and hurried out the front door of my house.

“Bye mom,” I mumbled to myself as I walked towards the front door, getting ready to go myself.

I looked up when the front door suddenly burst open again, almost hitting me in the face. I was shocked to see my mom standing there with a wild look on her face. Did she suddenly feel bad for never saying bye to me in the morning? Did she come back to tell me she loved me and how she wasn’t acting like a good parent? Did she finally realize that not once had she said she loved me?

“Don't forget to pick up the laundry detergent after school today,” my mom said in a serious voice. She then turned at stepped back outside and closed the door between the two of us.