"I think a family just moved in next door." My mother hummed happily, looking through the kitchen blinds while being nosy.
She had always wanted a couple to move in next door; she wanted to have friends her own age, but her life was quite socially restricted. Being a single mother, she had to singlehandedly take care of not only me but also her two seven year old children as well. Plus, she was busy at work; being a nurse meant working very awkward and long hours. I helped out as much I could with the twins, but it was still like juggling a million things at once sometimes for her.
"That's good, Mum." I nodded at her, forcing a tinge of enthusiasm into my voice for her.
"We could take them cookies! In this television show I'm watching, I saw that saw some Americans do it as a house warming present. Do you think they'd like that?" My mother gushed, already looking through the cupboard for whatever baking ingredients she needed.
"I'm sure they'd appreciate that." I agreed, humouring her.
I'm sure that she didn't even listen to what I said, since she had already started her cookie mission, but I didn't really mind since school work had me semi-distracted anyway. I was home schooled because going to school every day would be far too difficult and risky with my condition. It had its pros, such as teaching me to be incredibly independent, but it also had its downsides. Most significantly, my lack of social skills.
At this point, however, I wouldn't want to join a regular school. I'd like to think that I was too far gone to ever catch up to other kids my age in the social skills department. What would we even talk about? The most interaction I have ever had with any of them is when they yell at me in the street. Admittedly, however, that had happened a lot more when we were younger than it did anymore.
The phone ringing snapped me out of my daydream, forcing me out of my seat to go and answer it. God knows Mum wasn't going to, since she was somehow now covered in flour. Pressing the green answer button, I leant against the cool, dark wall as I held the receiver to my mouth; whenever we received a phone call in the middle of the day, it was usually because my younger brother, Andy, had started trouble at school again.
"Hello, you've reached the Williams household" I answered plainly, studying the kitchen cabinets as if they were the most intriguing object on the planet while I spoke.
"Afternoon, Daxx. I'm afraid that you're going to have to come and pick up Andy; he's been suspended again." The principle informed me, a tired sigh tagged onto the end of his sentence.
"I'll be there in about half an hour" I estimated, which was a pretty well-informed guess, considering this wasn't my first rodeo.
"I'll have the receptionist collect his things." The principle chirped, hanging up the phone.
Pocketing my cell phone, I gave Mum a look as if to say 'yes, he really is in trouble again'. She sighed, but only offered me a shrug in response; she wasn't any more sure on how to handle Andy than I was, despite being his legal guardian. He was a handful, after all.
Breezing through the dimly lit house, I entered my even darker room; with black walls, carpet and furniture, it was the exact opposite to the breezy, all-cream rooms you see in show homes across the country. When I had suggested we decorate it like this to Mum, she thought it was a bit depressing, but to me it felt comforting and safe.
Pulling open my wardrobe next to my drawn, black-out curtains, I had to squint to tell the difference between all of the black folded pieces of fabric. When your whole wardrobe is pretty much the same colour, it's hard to differentiate between items of clothing sometimes. Changing into something more appropriate than my pyjamas didn't take long, so I was marching back down the stairs in no time.
Grabbing a hat and my parasol, I cautiously stepped out of the house after calling to Mum that I was leaving. Living in a relatively quiet town next to the mountains and woods was pretty peaceful except for the few dodgy areas. It had its advantages, like giving you an excuse to need a car. The public transport was awful because the bus was your only option and it seldom ran. If you were lucky, it came by a few times a day, usually not running at all, so the second I was old enough I had passed my driving test.
Slipping inside of my car, I jabbed the keys into the ignition and revelled in the sound of it purring to life. Due to my condition, I was allowed windows that were slightly more tinted than was actually legal for everyone else, so that I was safe inside of my car on a sunny day.
At first, I had feared that I would be pulled over a lot, but my case worker had helped me sort out a bumper sticker as well as documents for me to carry that showed it was tinted for medical reasons. Of course, it still didn't stop some police officers from harassing me but it wasn't as bad as I had expected. Albeit, it was still annoying.
Pulling away from the curb, I began to drive towards my younger sibling's school, the soft sound of classical music humming away in the background. The drive wasn't very long, so I was parking in the near-empty car park in no time, revelling in the air conditioned car interior for a second longer before I had to enter the sweltering outdoors once again.
When I was younger, I had hated using my parasol because it made me feel like such an awkward idiot being the only person with a hulking great weapon of shade during the sunny days. Nowadays, I had found one I liked; it went with my style, so I didn't mind it as much. Plus, I knew very well the consequences of not using it and I would rather look like an idiot than experience that again.
Holding my parasol above my head sturdily, I crossed the car park and buzzed into the school reception area. Gently placing the closed parasol by the entrance, I begrudgingly saddled up to the front desk; this was always my least favourite part of Andy being excluded.
"Daxx." The receptionist greeted coldly, "Why are you here?"
"I'm here to pick up Andy." I sighed, frowning slightly.
Her distaste towards me was subtle, but she did this every time I came. From the second I stepped through the entrance doors until the second I left, she always had a rancid expression plastered on her sour face. Her eyes would occasionally glance down, judging the way I dressed and the fact that I had to use a parasol. Of course, she knew I had to for medical reasons- everyone in this small town did- but she still felt the need to make sure that I knew she thought I was odd.
It didn't help that Andy was always in trouble and she seemed to also judge me for that and the fact my mother worked so much. Every parents evening, when I was the one to show up, she used the same line of: 'Mum couldn't make it, again?'.
Her passive aggressive mannerisms and subtle glares were nothing new to me, so I just chose to ignore it. After all, I was used to it. Every person in this town had their own unique way of making sure I knew I was a freak to them. Mostly it was subtle glares and dodgy looks rather than outright name calling and harassment. I suppose I didn't make things easier for myself by dressing alternatively, but they had treated me just as rudely when I was only a child and dressed like every other kid, so I suppose it didn't matter. I'd rather dress how I felt comfortable if I was going to face bigotry either way.
With one final sour expression, she buzzed the principle and muttered into the intercom that I had arrived. The principle was one of the few people in town who didn't treat me like I was a freak, which I respected him for. I could tell he pitied me and my family for having so much on our plate, which I hated, but he didn't have malicious intentions and I recognised that. He was a nice guy.
"Daxx, it's good to see you again." The principle greeted me warmly, leading me through to the office.
"Sorry it had to be under these circumstances." I apologised, spotting Andy sat in the corner of the office, sulking.
"Right. Andy was involved in a fight." The principle sighed, "He attacked Jimmy Wellot during break time and the two of them had a little squabble."
"Jimmy was bad mouthing you." Andy muttered, "He called you a vampire again."
I let my own heavy sigh out, running my hand across my face in frustration. At heart, Andy was a good kid, but he didn't know how to deal with his anger. Kids are cruel; they always had been and they always will be, but Andy wasn't willing to accept that. What he failed to realise, however, is that this made him an easy target for teasing; kids love it when they get a reaction out of you and Andy was top notch at putting on a show. Any mention of me, my condition, or our dad, and he went flying off the handle.
He was just such a sensitive soul deep down and he couldn't help but feel things so intensely that it greatly effected him. Even comments that most people, including me, would let slide sent Andy into attack mode.
"We don't tolerate teasing, so Jimmy has been given detention for what he said, but I'm afraid name-calling isn't an excuse for violence. We let Andy off with detention last time, so we can't let it slide again. He needs to learn that violence isn't appropriate and his actions have serious consequences." The principle lectured half-heartedly.
"I understand. How long is he off for?" I muttered, eyeing the sad-eyed Andy.
"A week. He starts again next Wednesday."
"If that's all, we'll be off. I'll be sure to deal with it." I smiled gratefully, taking Andy's hand and leading him past the surly receptionist.
"See you at two o'clock for Angel." The principle called, waving me farewell from behind the desk.
Opening my parasol back up, I left reception with a teary Andy, who stomped and dragged his feet the whole way back to the car. I don't think he could decide whether he was upset, or angry, or a mix of the two emotions. After helping him into the jeep and plugging him into his booster seat, he stayed silent the whole drive home. At first I thought that he was ignoring me, but before I could climb out of the car, he unbuckled his seatbelt and crawled into the front of the car, into my lap. Angry tears rolled down his flushed, chubby cheeks as he hugged me tightly.
I held the seven year old as he cried about how it wasn't fair, about how people shouldn't make fun of me and about how I was completely normal. Seeing my little brother so upset while knowing I was a direct cause of all of his torment was hard. I didn't know how to tell a child that life wasn't fair and that there's nothing you could do about it, so I simply held him, trying to explain that violence wasn't ever going to get him anywhere with those kind of people, but he only shook his head.
I didn't know what exactly was wrong with him, but I knew that he needed some kind of therapy.
Eventually, he tired himself out and he fell fast sleep, on my lap with a snotty nose. I picked him up and struggled out of the car; the twins were both getting so much bigger, so it was getting harder and harder to keep carrying him and his sister around all of the time. Keeping calm while I speed walked across the front garden and into the shade of the porch, I ignored the searing sun hitting the exposed parts of my skin since I couldn't hold my parasol.
It took a while for me to figure out how to open the front door with my foot, but I eventually managed to awkwardly push it open, embracing the cool air of the dark house with a sigh of relief: safety.
Setting Andy down to take a nap on the bottom bunk of their bed, I tucked him in carefully so that I didn't wake him up. After all, he was grumpy and so he probably needed a nap. Stilling for a second in their room, I dwelled once again on the fact that I was the reason they got so much stick at school. Andy's sister, Angel, dealt with it quite well, but Andy was just so personally hurt by everything the kids said and it killed me. They didn't deserve it.
The smell of freshly baked cookies pulled me out of my thoughts and I followed my nose to the kitchen eagerly.