Chapter One
I had a dream that his heart was in my hands, and I was crushing it. I was smirking as though I was enjoying it, but someone was crying inside of me. Saying please stop, please stop. But I couldn't stop, I wanted to see it suffocate in my fingers, I wanted to see it die and suffer. The crying became louder as the heart of his started to struggle more and more. I was feeling relief and sorrow. It hurt.
"Wake up Miss Ayumi!"
The class was laughing, and I was dazed. Was this drool on the side of my face, not again. I wiped the side of my face softly, still dazed in the whiteness of the classroom. I hated school. I looked at Miss Dawson, wondering if she was ready to pop a blood vessel, it was about time she started yelling at the class, for our ignorance to "higher learning" and my sarcastic mouth. Even though I hated school, I loved Miss Dawson and her excuses for not being married and having kids. She was the ultimate teacher and the ultimate bachlorette. It was funny when I heard that she had went through all the single fathers of the school and some married, now divorce. She was known as the ultimate naughty teacher to men, but the most awesome English teacher any high school student could ask for, well until her temper flew, and then she was just annoying.
Class ended with a good bye present of reading page two hundred to two hundred fifty, a detailed tone summary of the pages we read, and what we think the author meant, by writing these pages. I had already had that answer in my head. He meant by saying that we would die from his book, and the horrible way it was written. Funny, but stupid.
"Sorry.."
My arm suddenly went to the side, it hurt. I looked up to see him standing over me. He was sorry, for what, bumping into me, or that other thing. He didn't know who I was at first, cause his hands were resting on my shoulders, so I wouldn't fall, but they were quickly released when he yelled out her name.
"Angela! Wait up, let me walk you"
He quickly walked away. He didn't say another word to me, he didn't even look down. I would never be the center of Daveon Summers eyes again. I walked away as though I wasn't hurt, as though old wounds didn't come back to haunt me. It was stupid to think of him, I had more changeling issues, home.
"Home late again? Your mother is sick, I need you to cook and feed Zach, he's your brother after all..."
Well personally he was never my father. Step father, nope, more like, mom's boyfriend, who never went away. They fight; he says nasty words, leave nasty bruises, leave, then return a couple of weeks later. Baby, Baby, Baby, is the only things he can say from his drunken numb lips. And all she can say, from her swollen lip is, I love you I'm sorry. Home sucked.
He was lying on the couch, like he always do for past two years, and always will do, ‘til my mom or I shoot him. My brother laid in his playpen, half asleep, half coughing up the fumes from the cigarettes that lay in the ash tray next to his pin. This was idiotic. My mother was stupid to let this be allowed. I picked up Zach and cradled him in my arms as though he was my child, I wanted him to be my child, my mother never really cared. It was all about drunken old abusive Alex. I went into the kitchen, sat my things on the table, sat Zach in his high chair, next to the window, opened the window, so we could both breathe and cooked.
Mom was knocked out when I check on her. I think she had took to much medicine. It would have been a shame, but not a shocker. I put hot soup next to her bed, like I had always done when she was sick. I felt a grab on my arm as I was about to leave. I turned my head. My mother's pale hand fingers gripping around my arm as though she was holding on for dear life.
"Mom?"
"Oh Aya...I thought you were Alex...Where's Alex?"
A disappointment. Alex
"Alex is downstairs watching television. He's fine."
She nodded her head and dozed back off to Prozac land. Alex had put her there. I was a harsh child, always been serious and mean since the day I was two and could open my mouth. My grandmother said that to show my dad he was wrong, I would pee on him and act like I didn't care. Ha! I was a hilarious child. But now I'm a harsh, sarcastic, not hilarious, young woman. Destined to be what Alex has been saying since he first came to my home. Alone.
I passed Alex without saying a word, I think we both agreed, words were not necessary in the relationship that we had. My little brother Zach was still eating when I cam back to him. He was about three, and an amazing little man. I taught him everything he knew, and I was proud to call him my little brother, my successor. He mad a awful situation, seem like a spring morning.
"Time for bed..."
I had picked him up before he had time to whine and cry, saying in his own way, I don't want to go to bed. I walked him off to his room. We did the usual, he changed, and jump into his small bed, and I read, and teach him new words. A nightly ritual I loved. By the time I get to the end of the book, he's out dreaming of cotton candy clouds and hot wheels he has never had. My little brother Zach was the reason for a smile on my face.
Holding my things in my hand I walked off to my room. I closed my door, before I could hear Alex's mouth about anything stupid. Waste of valuable waste less time. I sat at my desk and pulled out my most precious item out. My father's army tags. He died about three years ago, a couple of months, after he first saw Zach. Zach, that was his boy, and I, I was his girl. He loved us both. I slip the army tag necklace over my head, and let it rest on my neck. I rub it gently thinking of his beard rubbing against my face, the smell of aftershave drowning me, but making me smile. I remember him carrying me on his back and letting me fly in the clouds, he never once dropped me. I rubbed my eyes before they could produce a single tear. I thought of my father constantly, it was normal for a girl to grieve over her dead army father, but it was not what I needed to do, I had to finish that English assignment, and that math assignment, and that freaking chemistry project before time hit twelve midnight.
Hello coffee, buh-bye sleep.
I had a dream that his heart was in my hands, and I was crushing it. I was smirking as though I was enjoying it, but someone was crying inside of me. Saying please stop, please stop. But I couldn't stop, I wanted to see it suffocate in my fingers, I wanted to see it die and suffer. The crying became louder as the heart of his started to struggle more and more. I was feeling relief and sorrow. It hurt.
"Wake up Miss Ayumi!"
The class was laughing, and I was dazed. Was this drool on the side of my face, not again. I wiped the side of my face softly, still dazed in the whiteness of the classroom. I hated school. I looked at Miss Dawson, wondering if she was ready to pop a blood vessel, it was about time she started yelling at the class, for our ignorance to "higher learning" and my sarcastic mouth. Even though I hated school, I loved Miss Dawson and her excuses for not being married and having kids. She was the ultimate teacher and the ultimate bachlorette. It was funny when I heard that she had went through all the single fathers of the school and some married, now divorce. She was known as the ultimate naughty teacher to men, but the most awesome English teacher any high school student could ask for, well until her temper flew, and then she was just annoying.
Class ended with a good bye present of reading page two hundred to two hundred fifty, a detailed tone summary of the pages we read, and what we think the author meant, by writing these pages. I had already had that answer in my head. He meant by saying that we would die from his book, and the horrible way it was written. Funny, but stupid.
"Sorry.."
My arm suddenly went to the side, it hurt. I looked up to see him standing over me. He was sorry, for what, bumping into me, or that other thing. He didn't know who I was at first, cause his hands were resting on my shoulders, so I wouldn't fall, but they were quickly released when he yelled out her name.
"Angela! Wait up, let me walk you"
He quickly walked away. He didn't say another word to me, he didn't even look down. I would never be the center of Daveon Summers eyes again. I walked away as though I wasn't hurt, as though old wounds didn't come back to haunt me. It was stupid to think of him, I had more changeling issues, home.
"Home late again? Your mother is sick, I need you to cook and feed Zach, he's your brother after all..."
Well personally he was never my father. Step father, nope, more like, mom's boyfriend, who never went away. They fight; he says nasty words, leave nasty bruises, leave, then return a couple of weeks later. Baby, Baby, Baby, is the only things he can say from his drunken numb lips. And all she can say, from her swollen lip is, I love you I'm sorry. Home sucked.
He was lying on the couch, like he always do for past two years, and always will do, ‘til my mom or I shoot him. My brother laid in his playpen, half asleep, half coughing up the fumes from the cigarettes that lay in the ash tray next to his pin. This was idiotic. My mother was stupid to let this be allowed. I picked up Zach and cradled him in my arms as though he was my child, I wanted him to be my child, my mother never really cared. It was all about drunken old abusive Alex. I went into the kitchen, sat my things on the table, sat Zach in his high chair, next to the window, opened the window, so we could both breathe and cooked.
Mom was knocked out when I check on her. I think she had took to much medicine. It would have been a shame, but not a shocker. I put hot soup next to her bed, like I had always done when she was sick. I felt a grab on my arm as I was about to leave. I turned my head. My mother's pale hand fingers gripping around my arm as though she was holding on for dear life.
"Mom?"
"Oh Aya...I thought you were Alex...Where's Alex?"
A disappointment. Alex
"Alex is downstairs watching television. He's fine."
She nodded her head and dozed back off to Prozac land. Alex had put her there. I was a harsh child, always been serious and mean since the day I was two and could open my mouth. My grandmother said that to show my dad he was wrong, I would pee on him and act like I didn't care. Ha! I was a hilarious child. But now I'm a harsh, sarcastic, not hilarious, young woman. Destined to be what Alex has been saying since he first came to my home. Alone.
I passed Alex without saying a word, I think we both agreed, words were not necessary in the relationship that we had. My little brother Zach was still eating when I cam back to him. He was about three, and an amazing little man. I taught him everything he knew, and I was proud to call him my little brother, my successor. He mad a awful situation, seem like a spring morning.
"Time for bed..."
I had picked him up before he had time to whine and cry, saying in his own way, I don't want to go to bed. I walked him off to his room. We did the usual, he changed, and jump into his small bed, and I read, and teach him new words. A nightly ritual I loved. By the time I get to the end of the book, he's out dreaming of cotton candy clouds and hot wheels he has never had. My little brother Zach was the reason for a smile on my face.
Holding my things in my hand I walked off to my room. I closed my door, before I could hear Alex's mouth about anything stupid. Waste of valuable waste less time. I sat at my desk and pulled out my most precious item out. My father's army tags. He died about three years ago, a couple of months, after he first saw Zach. Zach, that was his boy, and I, I was his girl. He loved us both. I slip the army tag necklace over my head, and let it rest on my neck. I rub it gently thinking of his beard rubbing against my face, the smell of aftershave drowning me, but making me smile. I remember him carrying me on his back and letting me fly in the clouds, he never once dropped me. I rubbed my eyes before they could produce a single tear. I thought of my father constantly, it was normal for a girl to grieve over her dead army father, but it was not what I needed to do, I had to finish that English assignment, and that math assignment, and that freaking chemistry project before time hit twelve midnight.
Hello coffee, buh-bye sleep.