If Love Is Not Enough To Put My Enemies to Sleep 01
I never thought my mom was actually serious. Yeah, so she always threatened to leave, but I never thought she actually had the balls to. What appeared as a picture-perfect family on the surface was actually a shattered one as most families these days are. You couldn't really call it a "family", we were just a group of people with nothing in common except blood relation who were unfortunate enough to be thrown under the same shitty roof. We all had different ways of dealing with our arrangements. My mother drank in the shed in the backyard, my father swallowed stolen painkillers, and I pretended I wasn't there. The only thing my parents had in common was their hatred of me. They were probably once in love, but a surprise baby stamped it out.
I was washing dishes when she came stumbling in.
"Mara, this house is a mess! What have you been doing all day, screwing guys?" she asked disgusted.
I was about to tell her that it wasn't likely she could do a better job, but I learned that it meant less cuts if I didn't fight back.
"Why aren't you answering me? What, too many guys to count? You disgust me you slut!" she spat.
This is when my dad stepped in. I was surprised, this never happened before. I guess she ran out of OxyCotin and had nothing better to do. Or maybe he finally grew a heart.
"Honey, it's time you go upstairs to bed," my father said calmly to her.
"Why don't you stay out of it Luke!" my mother screeched.
She picked up a dish and threw it at me, hitting me in the back of the head. I turned around just as she was throwing another, this one cutting my cheek. She laughed when she saw me bleeding.
"That's what horrible children like you deserve," she cackled.
I grabbed a paper towel and tried to keep my mind off the throbbing pain in the back of my head and the stinging of the gash on my cheek. I went upstairs to the bathroom to clean my cut which was now gushing blood. I got peroxide and a band-aid and went to work cleaning and covering my cut while thinking of excuses I could tell people about how I got it and listening to my parents argue. I quickly pulled the door closed and locked it when I heard footsteps on the stairs. It was my mother, who was packing her bags loudly. I heard the front door slam and then she was gone. I slumped to the bathroom floor and cried, not because she left us, but because maybe now I actually had a chance of having a real family, not a pretend one when company came over. My tears stung my gash.
My eyes flew open as the events from last night came flooding back to me. I was still locked in the bathroom and I realized I had slept in there. I had been awakened by a pounding on the bathroom door. It was my dad yelling about how I was going to be late for school. I peeled myself up off the linoleum and cracked my stiff joints. I was afraid to look in the mirror and see the results of last night's tirade. I stood up and glanced at my face in the mirror. I grimaced. There was a huge gash across my cheek and there was some bruising around my eye. I quickly ran through my list of excuses and picked a suitable one. I splashed some water on my face and brushed my teeth. I pulled a brush through my untamable hair then looked down at my rumpled clothes. I decided they were wearable. I went in my room and grabbed a sweatshirt then stopped to spray some perfume and dab on a little lip gloss. I mumbled a goodbye to my dad then walked out the front door to unlock my black Mercedes. Yeah I know, how did I get enough money to afford that? Well, children, I didn't buy it. No, I didn't steal it. After my mom went to rehab for the first time (yeah, I know, it didn't work) she was on a nice streak and decided to buy me a fancy car. Yeah, she regretted it later when she hit the bottles again, but I wasn't going to let her take it. I slid into my leather seats and started the ignition. I looked at the clock and saw that I was definitely already late for school. I decided to skip since the school day was half over. I drove to the mall and spent the rest of the school day window shopping. When I had only 15 minutes left to get to my job, I left the mall and drove the 5 or so minutes to get there. That's me, 10 minutes early to everything, that's what happens when you have no social life. I walked in, mentally preparing myself for another boring day of booking vacations for rich, snobby people when a voice broke through my thoughts.
"Oh my, honey, what happened to your face?" asked Gianna. She's one of the people that you would expect to work at a travel agency. She has blonde hair, piled on top of her head with bright red lipstick and somewhat tacky clothes.
"Uh, I got into a fight at school," I replied.
She snaps her gum. "Another one? You get into a lot of fights?"
I sit down and take off my sweatshirt, folding it over the back of my seat. "Yeah, not many people like me," I say. Gratefully, she drops the topic and leaves me alone to my thoughts. Which now consist of last night. Because of her comment about my face. I'm glad my mom is gone. I mean, now that she's gone, I don't need to make up so many excuses as to where I get battered so often. The only downside is now I have all the major responsibilities. Don't get me wrong, they're the same as before, except now mine is the only income coming in. my mom was usually sober during the morning, enough so that she could go to work, then go see her good friend Jack Daniels in the shed after work. She must have had some wicked hangovers. Anyway, now we were going to be even poorer because my dad hasn't worked since he got on the pills. I wonder if-
"Excuse me," says a voice, breaking through my thoughts. What is it with all these people interrupting my thoughts today? I look up annoyed and almost jumped back. Because there's a person in front of me. A really cute person. You have a boyfriend. You have a boyfriend. You have a boyfriend. I chant to myself in my head. I can still look right? Damn straight. And I do. He has the most amazing eyes…
"Hello?" I realize I'm staring. Crap.
"Hi! I'm Mara. How may I help you?" I ask, using my best professional tone.
He sits down in the overly padded, gray-blue seat across from my desk.
"Uh, yeah. I want to book a vacation," Duh. ", to England. For two months." His voice is pure velvet. Actually, it's as hot as he is. If you could see a voice. Which you can't. Because that'd be weird. I wonder what color-Gah-FOCUS!
"Yes, okay. Do you have a particular departure date?" I ask, scanning the computer screen.
"How about May 4th?" he says. I'm pleased to find an opening on that date. I click on it.
"Name please?"
"Uh, well, my name's Brendon, but the name on the ticket would be Scarlett Urie."
I type in his answers quickly and send it off to booking.
"She your girlfriend?" I ask, attempting to make small talk while I wait for a conformation.
He laughs lightly. "No, she's my sister. I don't have a girlfriend."
My heart flutters a little. You have a boyfriend. You have a boyfriend. You have a boyfriend. My head starts to chant again.
"That's so sweet of you to get a vacation for your sister!" I exclaim.
"Well it's her birthday and I know she's really homesick so I thought it would be the best birthday present."
The conformation popped up on my screen and I hit the button to print out his ticket and other information. When they finish, I take them out of the printer and hand them to him.
"Here you go, the best birthday present ever. I'm sure she'll love it." I say with a wink. He smiles and it's dazzling.
"Thank you..uh"
"Mara" I say smiling.
"Mara," he continues. "That's a pretty name. I'll be sure to remember that," he calls as he walks through the glass door covered in tacky posters of beach scenes.
"He was cute!" exclaims Gianna as he gets into his car. I smile at her. "He was so flirting with you!" she gushes. My smile grows. Nothing could bring me down. Or so I thought.
