Sunday, October 21, 2012

Adri


Adri
By: Rio

                You look like a homeless person…Rang out in my head over and over again as I looked up at the ceiling. This room had no windows; I yearn for windows…To see the sunrise, to see the sunset… All this room really had was a small, very narrow path from the door to my bed. I don’t know why I chose this room… The clothes I own used to be new… My mom’s right… They’re going to fall asleep when I go to wash them next. They kept buying me new clothes and I kept giving them back. Why? Because I wanted to go pick them out; I know that I shouldn’t be picky about when someone buys me new clothes… Truth is, I hate shopping at Goodwill. My shoes are falling apart, my favorite pair of boots are pretty much destroyed…
                Let me buy you some new clothing, Addy… Please? My mom’s voice rang out in my head as I bit my lip. God, I wanted to scream out, “Yes! Please!” but I refrained. Why? New clothes cost money and I know that my mom isn’t hurting for it, but if I can fix what I have…Please…That’s an excuse and you know it. That nagging little voice in the back of my head rang out. Yeah, I know it is… I wanna go up to her and tell her to take me shopping… I wanna break free and tell her everything; I wanna tell her what I like… to stop being the trouble child; I want my parents to stop worrying about me… my own twin is worried about me.
                I got up and stumbled over to the mirror that’s hanging on the door. Oh yeah. No bathroom in this room either. My pajamas were old and ratty, too. I flipped on the light and reached over for my wallet. Opening It, I found about 200$ in cash. I tossed it onto my bed as I grabbed a towel and my toiletries, and a pair of clothes and made my way to the hall bathroom. The bigger rooms have bathrooms in them, another thing I yearn for.  
                I didn’t feel any better after my shower; I dried off and got into some clothes. I had asked my roommate at Underwood if I could borrow some a shirt and jeans. She happily let me do it. I picked out a pair of blue skinny jeans with the British flag (My roommate is British) on the left pocket and a pink Pikachu long sleeved shirt. I pulled on some socks, braided my hair as I left. Padding back to my room, Oscar looked at me, eyes wide.
                “Holy crap! You’re wearing new clothes!” He nearly fainted as I rolled my eyes.
                “I’m borrowing them.” I informed him
                “You’re really hurting mom, Adri” He whispered
                “How?” I asked, head tilted
                “By not letting her buy you new clothes. She cried last night… You’re staying in that storage room that’s not big enough…”
                “Shove it, Oscar, and leave the hell alone” I snapped.
                With that, I went back to my “room”. Before my dad picked me up from the train station on Friday, I went out and bought a pair of new shoes. They were a pair of high tops and really comfortable. They were a pair of Nike high tops. White and pink with black splatters; I slipped the shoes on, grabbed my wallet and my sweater. I left my room and headed downstairs, looking at my parents.
                “Can I get a ride?” I asked as they looked at me.
                “Who bought you the clothes?” My mom asked
                “I borrowed them. Can I get a ride?” I repeated
                They looked at each other and sighed.
                “I’ll give you one” My dad said, standing. We went out to his Lamborghini as he pulled out of the driveway.
                “Your mom’s hurtin’, kid” He said.
                “Oscar told me.”
                “Where are we going?” He asked
                “Library”
                “It’s open on a Sunday?” He asked
                “Yeah.” I lied
                We got to the library as I thanked him, watching him drive away. I went to the bus stop as it came. I showed the driver my card as I sat. A few minutes later, we got to the mall. I got off as I went inside. I went to the directory as my eyes roved over it. Now that I’m skinnier, I can pull of these skinny jeans. I walked into Old Navy and browsed around. I whirled around when I heard my mom’s laugh as I made myself vanish into another section of clothing, but still close enough to listen to the conversation.
                “I wish she would let me buy her some new clothes…” she sighed
                “She wants too… she really does” Aunt Sam informed her
                “Then why won’t she tell me?” My mom asked, looking at clothes
                “She doesn’t know how… She…” Aunt Sam sighed “She’s afraid of your reaction”
                “What the hell for?” My mom asked, accent thick
                “Because she feels like she doesn’t deserve anything new”
                “Where the fuck did she gets that idea from?!” My mom growled
                “Dunno. But she told me that she wants a bigger room… She wants a lot of things, but she doesn’t know how to tell you or Dave. So I guess she’s saving up her allowance or something. She doesn’t want you or Dave to spend a lot of money on her because you have Oscar and Amber… She said she had a list for her birthday, but never told you or Dave.” Aunt Sam explained.
                God… The look on my mom’s face… It was sadness mixed with a hint of anger. I feel guilty as hell… Maybe I should just let her buy me new clothes… I just wanna know you better… she said, I’m your daughter… You do know me. Was my reply. Sometimes I feel like I don’t. I don’t know what you like to do… Was I being selfish? No, I don’t think so. I sighed softly. She’s wanted to buy me new clothes and I’ve been telling her no… she just wants to see me happy and with new clothes… I know that she’s not hurting for money—she told me so herself. She didn’t do anything wrong. I do need new clothes now that winter is rapidly approaching…
                I left Old Navy, neither one of them noticing me—but I know Aunt Sam knew I was there. I left the mall and decided to go the local teen hangout spot. It had arcade games, a few big screen TV’s and a hang out place with couches and high top tables, etc. I sat at one of the tables and pulled out a book.
                I took the bus home and when I walked in the front door, I came face to face with my mother.
                “Hey” I said
                “You lied’ She growled
                “About what?” I asked
                “Goin’ to the library. Your father just drove by and found it closed!”
                “Shame” was my reply
                “Where were you?” She asked
                “Java Lava”
                “Why did you lie?” She asked
                “Dunno. Can I go now?” I asked as she snarled softly
                “Why won’t you let me get you new clothes, but you’ll borrow them from someone else?!” She nearly screamed at me. I remained silent.
                “Fine…” And with that, she left.
                I walked upstairs a few minutes after she did and walked past my parent’s bedroom. I heard her crying softly inside. I wanted to go in there and hug her and tell her that I’ll be fine. A part of me tells me to stop; another part of me says does it. I softly ran my hand down the door before walking back to my “room”.
                You look like a damn homeless person…You look like a homeless person…sometimes I feel like I don’t know what you like… Like I don’t know… I rolled onto my side, looking at the wall. The walls were bare and white. No decoration. Plain; vanilla; boring; blah; those words echoed in my head over and over again. I’m tired of crying. I’m tired of feeling like crap. I’m tired of feeling guilty. I’m tired of holding everything in. I want new clothes. I want a new room. I want to tell my parents that I’m a good child… That they are good parents; I want my mom to stop hurting and crying all the time; I want her to be happy…
                Looking over at the table, I found my pocket knife resting open. I had cut before—never too deep. I looked at my arms, finding faint scars—part of being half mutant—the healing bit. I rubbed my face, looking up at the ceiling. I want to tell my parents what I want. I wanna tell them that I need a new basketball. That I need new glasses; that I need a new journal; that I need a new chain for my necklace they bought me for my 8th birthday. That I wanna go out for mother/daughter or father/daughter time; that I wanna go out on tour with them sometime;
                I looked over at my knife again before picking it up. If you do that, you’re only gonna hurt her more that nagging voice said. I know… I put the knife back and curled up on my bed, falling into an uneasy sleep. 

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