DURABLE (completed)

A Devastating Blow

Graduation was a week away, and all my classes were finished but they had given me the option to keep attending, and I had taken it. Unfortunately, there were no sports scheduled after the last bell, so I had to go home. I was getting off the bus down the street from my house, when the group of friends I had been riding the bus with for years screamed, "BYE NIKKI!!!" and burst into laughter. My lips pulled into a wide grin and I waved back at them. I would miss them. My name was actually Nicholas Winspere, I to everyone but the people I lived with and with the thought of home the smile dropped from my face.

Going home always left me feeling bleak for as long as I could remember but with college only a few short weeks away I would leave all of that behind. Humming to myself, I skipped through the front door of the two-family house I had called home since we moved when I turned seven. As I stepped through the door, Tito from the first floor began to bark, an invitation that typically drew me in, but today my growling stomach drove me up the stairs to my door.

Pale green walls and a wave of sadness greeted my as I stepped into the hallway. I always wondered if I was the only that felt the waves of dejection as soon as I walked in but could never find the courage to ask not that anyone would answer me anyhow. Not for the first time this week I wished that there was an after-school activity so I could stay away a little longer.

Dropping my bag to the floor and easing out of sneakers I made a mental list of the things I had to do for the remainder of the day. I was about to head up the stairs to my room when another growl from my tummy reminded me that it was way past snack time.

With a sigh, I headed toward the banana colored kitchen and did the robotic task of making myself a sandwich while my mind wandered. In a few days all the early admissions letter for the Colleges I had applied to would be coming in and I couldn't wait. I wished my family would share my happiness. Instead, I felt as though their hatred for me had intensified. For as long as I could remember I felt alone. The older I got, the more my mother seemed to despise m and even my father had joined in lately.

When I was younger, I had been so distraught over being rejected by my mother that I once spent an entire summer looking for answers it was foolish but what little kid in my situation wouldn't be desperate for answers. Sighing again, this time in exasperation, I shook my head getting rid of memories that were best forgotten. After all it was too late now my only aim was to go to college and get out of this dreary place as quickly as possible. I even had a plan I would take a few summer classes and move in on campus early.

Just as I was biting into my sandwich, I glimpsed the time on the digital clock over the fridge and froze my mother was due home any minute. As if on cue, the stairs began to creak from both downstairs and upstairs and my siblings came rushing by me. I backed up quickly to avoid getting run over.

Sucking in a deep breath, I tried to minimize my presence but at 5'5", with dark skin, smoldering mud oak eyes, long, lean legs accentuated by years of playing tennis, and an eye-catching smile, it was almost impossible. Although, over the years I had mastered the art of making myself invisible.

The front door swung open with a loud "pop," and an ominous shiver ran down my spine as my mother stepped from the hallway into the kitchen. Shouts of "Mommy!" and "Hi, Mother" filled the air as my two younger siblings waited a beat to gauge our mother's response before throwing themselves at her. My brother and I stood behind them me watching in envy and he waiting his turn. Being hugged by my mother was not a privilege that I had ever been given.

With heavy laden eyes I stared at the older version of myself, who was identical to me in every way except the eyes and swallowed hard. It always unnerved me when my own face looked back at me with so much abhorrence. Over time I had learned to avoid making eye contact with my mother as well as looking in mirrors.