"Mika, Mika, Mika..."
---
I hated the sound of disappointment in my mother's English tones. Always bloody disappointment. I can never do anything right. Even when I get A's at school, or merit marks, it is always the same response. 'Why didn't you do better? You have the best of everything, more than any of the other children at that school, why do you not get A*'s?'
---
It's true, I do have more than the others at my school. More material things- more money, more technology, more stuff, more resources. However, they have more in one respect. They have more love. Their parents care for them in a way that mine seem not to- I hurt myself, they call the butler, Adams, to deal with it, instead of hugging me and comforting me.
---
Not that, at the age of eighteen, I really want to be hugged and comforted. But the effort would have been nice.
---
"Mika, you scored 59? I thought that Eileesa helped you study for the test? Didn't you listen hard enough?"
---
Eileesa. Bloody Eileesa, my sister.
---
You'd think she was a girl genius. No- definitely not. The lovely, beautiful girl of 16, with a modeling career and possible acting options? I do not mean to be cynical or to stereotype beautiful, talented girls, but I have been doing her work and mine since I was fourteen. That and that only, is why she has pretty good results. My lovely, manipulative, selfish younger sister, who can make my life hell if she wants, has taught me a lot. Most importantly, that you can get people to do anything for you, if you ask them the right way and have enough leverage. And hell does Eileesa have enough leverage.
---
"Always in that bookstore, looking at those stupid old books- you have a roomful, why do you buy more? You waste our hard-earned money buying books that don't help you study! Nathan was reading one of them the other day, and he was terrified! How could you let a six year old near a horrible book like that?!"
---
There were three very interesting points in that little yell.
---
One, Nathan, my six year old brother, could read books that I at 18 found challenging, and two, he understood them enough to be scared by them, three, Nathan had been in my room again.
---
I tuned out for the next few minutes, thinking about how to keep Nathan out of my room which had no lock on the door (unlike Eileesa, who, as a female, my mother agreed needed her privacy). Tiring of her rant, I spoke.
---
"Mother, I am going out. I have my mobile phone. I will be back by seven. I have done all my work, and would like to remind you, before I leave, that the test was out of fifty, and I scored nine extra marks for background knowledge. The next highest mark below mine was 34. Bye."
---
It was no good waiting for her to finish, if that's what you were thinking. I am not rude at all; in fact, I am unfailingly polite to everyone. But in my mother's case, to stay would have been to bring on another fit of the vapors, which my father who was trying to work, could do without.
---
My father works as a French-English diplomat- hence the butlers, maid's etc. He is not a family man at heart, yet he enjoys his family's company and cares for us more than any other people. He finds it hard to be social, as he comes from a difficult background, but I understand him in that respect.
---
What does irritate me about him is his many false personas. Sometimes he can be as bad as mother, never good enough, never interesting enough. Sometimes he is the French charmer. Occasionally I see the real man, caring, warm, when Mother is really on the war-path (not often, but more than I would like to admit) he stands up for me.
---
You see, I am unconventional. I am 'odd' as some people kindly put it. More often I am called 'freak' 'weirdo' 'moron' etc. At least they do it behind my back- I am not a nerd, understand. I can bench press 150 on a good day.
---
Which may be why I am considered so strange- by teenage law, I should be a jock, athletic and cool. Instead I am anti-social preferring to read and work than pretend to be what I am not, cool to those I don't know, have an extreme dislike for team-sports (except football) and play the violin, piano and flute exceptionally well. And I have a slight French accent which doesn't help.
---
I turned the corner, into a long street with houses and garages side by side. I could hear music thumping loudly already. I speeded up, eager to see my friends suddenly. Well, actually, a particular friend. A female friend. A beautiful female friend.
---
Annie wore a short black skirt and long leather boots with a black and red lacy top that revealed less than it seemed to. Her long (dyed) black hair curled slightly below her bust, and her ruby red lips needed no lipstick to enhance their vibrant, aggressive colour.
---
I had known her for only three years, but those who knew her especially well or had known her for a long time told me it was the death of her brother that had changed her. It made her so very unwilling to be part of the beautiful, cheerleading, social, friendly crew at school when she easily could be. Fair enough, I had thought at the time, even though Nathan and Eileesa are annoying and cruel sometimes I would never wish them dead.
--
I opened my electric violin case, and tenderly took out my instrument and readied it, waiting to be noticed. Suddenly the music stopped, and I looked up at the band, all breathing heavily and smiling darkly. Annie, holding the mike, spoke to me.
--
"Ready to Rock, Mika?"
---
I smiled darkly back.
---
--
"Hell yeah."
---
I hated the sound of disappointment in my mother's English tones. Always bloody disappointment. I can never do anything right. Even when I get A's at school, or merit marks, it is always the same response. 'Why didn't you do better? You have the best of everything, more than any of the other children at that school, why do you not get A*'s?'
---
It's true, I do have more than the others at my school. More material things- more money, more technology, more stuff, more resources. However, they have more in one respect. They have more love. Their parents care for them in a way that mine seem not to- I hurt myself, they call the butler, Adams, to deal with it, instead of hugging me and comforting me.
---
Not that, at the age of eighteen, I really want to be hugged and comforted. But the effort would have been nice.
---
"Mika, you scored 59? I thought that Eileesa helped you study for the test? Didn't you listen hard enough?"
---
Eileesa. Bloody Eileesa, my sister.
---
You'd think she was a girl genius. No- definitely not. The lovely, beautiful girl of 16, with a modeling career and possible acting options? I do not mean to be cynical or to stereotype beautiful, talented girls, but I have been doing her work and mine since I was fourteen. That and that only, is why she has pretty good results. My lovely, manipulative, selfish younger sister, who can make my life hell if she wants, has taught me a lot. Most importantly, that you can get people to do anything for you, if you ask them the right way and have enough leverage. And hell does Eileesa have enough leverage.
---
"Always in that bookstore, looking at those stupid old books- you have a roomful, why do you buy more? You waste our hard-earned money buying books that don't help you study! Nathan was reading one of them the other day, and he was terrified! How could you let a six year old near a horrible book like that?!"
---
There were three very interesting points in that little yell.
---
One, Nathan, my six year old brother, could read books that I at 18 found challenging, and two, he understood them enough to be scared by them, three, Nathan had been in my room again.
---
I tuned out for the next few minutes, thinking about how to keep Nathan out of my room which had no lock on the door (unlike Eileesa, who, as a female, my mother agreed needed her privacy). Tiring of her rant, I spoke.
---
"Mother, I am going out. I have my mobile phone. I will be back by seven. I have done all my work, and would like to remind you, before I leave, that the test was out of fifty, and I scored nine extra marks for background knowledge. The next highest mark below mine was 34. Bye."
---
It was no good waiting for her to finish, if that's what you were thinking. I am not rude at all; in fact, I am unfailingly polite to everyone. But in my mother's case, to stay would have been to bring on another fit of the vapors, which my father who was trying to work, could do without.
---
My father works as a French-English diplomat- hence the butlers, maid's etc. He is not a family man at heart, yet he enjoys his family's company and cares for us more than any other people. He finds it hard to be social, as he comes from a difficult background, but I understand him in that respect.
---
What does irritate me about him is his many false personas. Sometimes he can be as bad as mother, never good enough, never interesting enough. Sometimes he is the French charmer. Occasionally I see the real man, caring, warm, when Mother is really on the war-path (not often, but more than I would like to admit) he stands up for me.
---
You see, I am unconventional. I am 'odd' as some people kindly put it. More often I am called 'freak' 'weirdo' 'moron' etc. At least they do it behind my back- I am not a nerd, understand. I can bench press 150 on a good day.
---
Which may be why I am considered so strange- by teenage law, I should be a jock, athletic and cool. Instead I am anti-social preferring to read and work than pretend to be what I am not, cool to those I don't know, have an extreme dislike for team-sports (except football) and play the violin, piano and flute exceptionally well. And I have a slight French accent which doesn't help.
---
I turned the corner, into a long street with houses and garages side by side. I could hear music thumping loudly already. I speeded up, eager to see my friends suddenly. Well, actually, a particular friend. A female friend. A beautiful female friend.
---
Annie wore a short black skirt and long leather boots with a black and red lacy top that revealed less than it seemed to. Her long (dyed) black hair curled slightly below her bust, and her ruby red lips needed no lipstick to enhance their vibrant, aggressive colour.
---
I had known her for only three years, but those who knew her especially well or had known her for a long time told me it was the death of her brother that had changed her. It made her so very unwilling to be part of the beautiful, cheerleading, social, friendly crew at school when she easily could be. Fair enough, I had thought at the time, even though Nathan and Eileesa are annoying and cruel sometimes I would never wish them dead.
--
I opened my electric violin case, and tenderly took out my instrument and readied it, waiting to be noticed. Suddenly the music stopped, and I looked up at the band, all breathing heavily and smiling darkly. Annie, holding the mike, spoke to me.
--
"Ready to Rock, Mika?"
---
I smiled darkly back.
---
--
"Hell yeah."