Silence filled the air. It wasn't just a silence; it was an angry silence, and the air we were breathing? Yeah, it was really tension. Of course, just like any other mother and daughter, the tension was caused by some stupid fight. The same stupid fight we've had for seven years, to be exact. This time, though, it ended with a threat and it was in public.
To be honest, I don't even remember how it exactly started. All I know is that it ended with my father and how he left us, along with the reason why. Most people think he left because he wanted to be with a younger woman, but my mom and I know the truth; he didn't want t a freak as a child. He himself told us that the day he left, honest to God. That was also the day my mom and I started to hate each other.
Our fight began right in the commons area at school, where all the parents who had shown up for parent/ teacher conferences were sitting. Apparently, my mom had been upset because I talked back to all my teachers –well, except my music teacher, who is the only one of my teachers who doesn't bitch to me about my social life. In other words, I pretty much got bad reports all around.
"Why can't you just keep your mouth shut?" my mom hissed at me as we were on our way out. "You don't want to be attracting any attention. Do you really want to people to know how much of a freak you are?"
I, of course, stopped walking and turned to face her. "They're teachers. If they don't want me setting them straight then shouldn't bait me."
Those sentences turned from teachers to father and back to him leaving and… yeah. It wasn't pretty.
The last thing my mom said was, "I'd rather burn you to death myself than to let everyone see how much of a freak you are." I must say that that last line killed me inside, making my body close up and want to lose the world.
She was the one that made me wear colored contacts to cover up my unusual eyes; she was the one who taunted me about what my father said; she blamed me for everything bad in her life. The sad thing was that I could never tell if she was doing it intentionally or not.
As soon as we got home, I headed for my room.
"Don't you walk away from me," my mom yelled furiously. "We're not done talking!"
"Go to hell," I yelled back as I slammed my door shut and locked it. My mom didn't seem to get that our little conversation had ended. No way was I talking to her.
In fact, come tonight, I wasn't ever going to have to talk to her. I wasn't even going to be here. As soon as her head hit the pillow, I was gone, out the window, out of here.
Of course…. It didn't exactly happen the way I planned.
I had emptied my book bag and stuffed it with clothes, money, and food.
I was trying to get over being nervous. Don't get me wrong. I was excited too, but I was worried about a neighbor seeing me and calling my mom before I had even gotten a block away. That's why I packed a lot of black. As a matter of fact, I was dressed in black from head to toe –black gym shoes, black tank with black jean jacket over it, and black jeans. Heck, I even painted my nails black. Stupid, I know, but I got a little carried away.
I jumped up from my bed once I heard the TV go off. I knew it would take a few minutes for her to fall asleep, so I checked myself out in the mirror meanwhile. I decided to do something with my hair. Maybe if I put it up people would mistake my shadow as a guy or something. I twisted my long black hair into a dark blue clip. I waited a full thirty minutes –just in case- before I grabbed my book bag and noiselessly climbed out my window.
I deeply breathed in the night's air and looked up at the sky. A crescent moon and a zillion stars faced me. A little smile played on my lips.
I had only walked a few yards when I smelled smoke. I stopped and sniffed. I swung around and my mouth fell open as my eyes landed upon my own house. My room was on fire! Worse, my mom's room was in the room next to mine.
Before I could react, something struck me upside the head hard and I was pulled into a world where darkness surrounded me and fire did not exist.