My eyes awaken to a new day. One that, no doubt, will be riddled with the same problems yesterday had. And the day before, and so on since this curse first descended upon me. This annoying parasite has been strangling me for too long. It amounts to four months if I'm counting days (I've got an entire calendar dedicated to him). It's also had quite a negative effect on me. Like a can of expired pickles, my body shows signs of wear and tear.
Whether it be the dark orbiting bags underneath my eyes, the patches of obscene cellulite clenching my legs (guys seem to take a liking to fatter thighs, so I'm in no hurry to go on an extravagant diet), the sluggish nature of binge-drinking cans of cold soda, or constructively finding ways why I shouldn't shower every day or do my usual skincare routine, I'm slowly confiding in the dark side. I'm turning into Darth Vader while yelling, with fists clutched: "Screw the Senate!"
Just my lucky month. I'll transform into the Wicked Witch of the West if God doesn't perform a miracle soon. Nothing more than an old prune destined for hospice. That's not my plan for an intergalactic future.
Groggily, I hunch forward and make my way to my dresser. My back hurts, my stomach grumbles, and I'm disgustingly bloated. But, like any other typical 19-year-old in America, I have to finish my last few weeks of high school. Consequently, I'm not required to (look up the statistics; you'll understand how normal it is to be a dropout), though it does pave the way for higher-paying jobs. I like money, so school is essential.
"Violet! Time for breakfast!"
I roll my eyes in disgust. Noah, seriously, leave your tired sister alone. I'm ashamed of my appearance. It's painful to move, painful to breathe, go to HELL. I refuse to answer to the one stain on my record, the one blemish on an otherwise perfect track record. Freak! You ruined my life. I hate you with all my heart. For every memory, every smile, each hug, none of it mattered to that ungrateful brat. He scolded me in front of our parents. They held him high as if he'd won the Heisman. Shouting, "This is for your protection," while subsequently thanking him for snitching.
Never again would I put my trust, my deep secrets, with a fraud. I learned my lesson.
"Violet! Get your lazy butt downstairs. Mom wants to talk to you!" He lectures from the kitchen. His voice cuts into my nerves, plucking another staple from my heart. Plinck, plinck. When he's fast asleep in bed, I'll settle the score. Either switch his alarm clock or smother him in a bucket of ice-cold water. Revenge is a sister's natural-born job.
Bounding down the stairs, I round the corner and step into the kitchen. Noah (with a scowl creeping up his face) and my mother stand ready and willing to lecture. I grab a clean plate from the cupboard, lazily letting the door slam. Bam! "If you're gonna say anything," I smack my lips, savoring the flavor of the homemade biscuits, "Then spill the beans."
"Sit," my mother says, drier than cardboard. "We have a couple of issues to discuss." She looks at my brother like he needs to leave. Uttering words of disgust, he throws on his backpack, grabs his lunch bag, and speeds out the front door.
The house was barren and lifeless– Except for us two women. In this instance, having an empty house was preferred over sharing a lonely home with my main antagonist: my mother.
"Hey, just saying, I did nothing wrong," I murmur, hoping it would save me. But the narrow mind of my mom begs to differ. She's gawking at me, with hands folded in her lap like this is a teacher's conference. "I have to get to school, you know."
YOU ARE READING
Parasite
幻想"You're pregnant." Certainly not the words a lowly highschool girl wants to hear. But what can I do about it? Nothing, absolutely, positively nothing. How do I cope with being pregnant with a parasite? I contemplate ways to die. Hell, that's all I...
