8.00PM; NOTHING.
8.20pm; nothing.
8.40pm; nothing.
9.00pm; . . .nothing.
I waited for him. I did. I believed him when he said that he would call, I honestly did. And quite frankly I don't know why.
I don't know why I was so stupid to think that Dean, out of all the people in the world, will want to talk to me, will want me to help him when he could've easily asked Amelie to do so. I don't know why I stared at my phone like a complete idiot waiting for his text, I don't know why anytime I heard my phone chime or ring I would race over to it to see who texted or called me only to be disheartened when I saw it wasn't him.
Obviously, he wouldn't text me, he probably didn't even want a tutor and after I gave him my number, he may have even thrown it away.
I snuggle my duvet even closer to my chest as I feel tears starting to build up in my eyes. Blinking, I feel a lone tear slither down my cheek as I start breaking out in low sobs.
I can't believe I was this naive.
I was soon interrupted by the sound of my room door being opened.
I know it isn't that late, but it's still pretty late so I am just curious on who in their right minds will decide to barge into someone's room by this time of night, not even caring to knock first. I mean . . .that's just plain rude. Especially if that said person was in the middle of crying her fucking eyes out until it's all blurry and red.
I thought that until I saw who it was and let's just say I wasn't too surprised.
"Don't you know how to knock?" I said in a very cracked voice whilst wiping my damp eyes and sitting up straight. With my eyes partially clear now I look up to see Natalia putting on a very smug smile after I have put on my glasses.
What now?
"Aww, was someone crying?" she mocked, completely ignoring my question.
"That's none of your business—why are you here?"
Natalia never comes into my room unless she wants something or is looking to start unnecessary drama but, I'm in no mood to be fighting with her, so I am hoping the reason she is here is sensible.
But then again, it's Natalia so give or take.
"You just broke mom's expensive vase now you have to go turn yourself in or else mom's going to come in here, and trust me, you do not want her to come in here," she announced nonchalantly.
I couldn't believe my ears; Natalia did not just throw me under the bus for something I clearly did not do. It's official, my sister is a deranged psychopath and needs to be locked up in a mental asylum. Is she crazy?
I'm pretty sure I know the answer to that question.
"Natalia, why did you do that? Are you mad?" I screamed at her, visually frustrated and upset by her attitude. I really wanted to cry now; all of this is truly upsetting.
"I don't know, I should be asking you that Juliette," she said in a snarky tone, "I wasn't the one who broke the break the vase," she giggled.
Before I could stand up and slap that stupid smile of her face, I heard my mom scream my name at the top of her lungs.
Great, just great.
My mom rarely screams at anyone, she doesn't like loud noises so she doesn't see the use of her raising her own voice, but when she does, trust me you will pray to God that you weren't the cause of it.
The first time I got to hear that ear bleeding scream of hers was when I was eight. I had a friend over and we were playing with Legos. Like the eight-year old's we were, we made a ginormous mess of things and Legos were scattered everywhere, it so happened to be that one very small, but very mighty Lego was where my mom was walking on.
I swear to God, people from the gas station heard my mom's scream. At the end of the day my friend was sent home early, all the Legos in the house was thrown away and I was grounded for an entire week and to add salt to the injury I was left to do all the chores in house for an entire month.
I promised myself that day that I will never hear that scream again and be the cause of it and I kept my word . . . well until now.
Pushing my sister aside I rush down the stairs and into the passageway leading to the small living room we have upstairs and that's when I saw it, the beautiful vase that my mom bought from her trip to Bali scattered on the floor.
I looked into my mom's tear-stained eyes more threatening to fall. Oh, Natalia has me simply screwed now.
"Did you do this?" my mom askes me softly pointing at the shattered vase on the floor, it's obvious she's trying to keep her cool. "Did you this?" she said more vibrant and angrier now.
"No, it wasn't—"
"Then who did!" my mom interrupted me, clutching her hands into fists. It's taking everything in her to not hit me with one of the glasses right now. I can tell.
"It was Natalia. I was in my room all day, I never even stepped foot in this parlour," I whispered, trying to defend myself but also not adding fuel to the fire, there was no way that I am going to take the blame for what she did.
"How can it be Natalia? I just asked her, and she said that she was in her room, but then she heard something break, so she rushed outside and saw that you broke the vase and threatened her not to tell me or else she'll regret it."
"Are you even hearing yourself mum?" the tone in my voice increasingly getting higher, "that's the most stupid excuse one could make up in the history of the universe," I scoffed, my mum couldn't be that gullible, could she?
"So, what you're saying is that I'm stupid?"
"No, I didn't mean it like that, it's just—"
"So, you're saying I'm dumb? Juliette you're calling your mother . . .dumb?" she laughed humorlessly.
Point proven. My mother is gullible.
What has Natalia done?
"In all my life, I have never had to caution Natalia for doing something wrong. It's always you. Why is that so?" she questioned.
"It's so because Natalia always pins the blame on me. She's the one you should argue with not me," I whined, this couldn't be happening.
"Juliette Di Laurentis before I blink this mess should be cleaned up," my mother said calmly but her eyes were filled with nothing but fury.
I sighed walking out of the room. There was no way I was winning this battle, at least she didn't punish me this time, I guess that's something to be happy for.
Walking down the stairs, I could still hear my mom's faint mummering, dad's definitely going to hear about this when he comes back from work. Poor guy, only God knows how he can keep up with her and her madness. I won't be too shocked if they divorced after this.
It took me a long time to clean up the glass, there simply was too many, and anytime I felt like I was finished there was always more glass somewhere else.
By the time I went back to my room it was around ten-thirty, all I really wanted now was to sleep, but all the thoughts from the past couple of hours kept creeping up in my mind and soon enough I started crying.
I couldn't hold it in any longer. It was all too stressful, no girl should ever experience this, absolutely no one. But here I am, crying myself to sleep because I'm that pathetic.
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