Time seemed to cease for Raven as she stared at the mass of food on her plate. Dinner with her mother and stepfather was always a horrendous task rather than a routine pleasure. Silence encased the small group like a burial ground at night. This evening's menu consisted of her mother's legendary homemade spaghetti and garlic bread. Cucumber and tomato salad with shredded cheese served as a side dish, and rhubarb pie would be introduced for dessert. Raven lacked a healthy appetite for any of these cuisines. In fact, a slice of German chocolate cake didn't sound half bad, but her stepfather had eaten the final piece the week before. Twining a couple of limp noodles around the tines of the stainless steel fork, Raven raised the utensil until it was upside down and watched with indifference as the food slithered off to form a perfect coil amid the other noodles like a golden serpent.
"Raven, are you not hungry?"
There was no need for Raven to look at her mother to know what type of expression she evinced. Arella's eyes narrowed slightly as her countenance bore a scowl that mirrored the shape of a horseshoe. Raven wanted to tell her to stop, that it disfigured the lines of her pretty face. Not that Arella took heed to anything her daughter had to say. As far as Raven was concerned, her mother believed that kids, in particular adolescents, had nothing important to say ever.
'Teenagers just care about sex and mischief and partying.'
Maybe her mother was correct. Every week for five days straight all Raven remembered hearing were the raucous voices of her fellow students at school, guys boasting about who gave head the best among their other sexual endeavors, popular girls debating which boys had the largest cocks and what outfits made them more desirable, and teachers sending the usual delinquents to Principle Zucker's office. High school officially became a breeding ground for profligacy. Unfortunately, her lack of interest in her peers' questionable subjects caused her to be the social outcast and a frequent target of ridicule. This didn't bother her however. Better to have the freedom of an outcast, than to be chained by association with stupid cliques that bent under peer pressure like terrified sheep.
"Raven, if you're not going to eat that then discard it. I'd prefer you not play with your food like some animal."
Arella's snappy remark thrust Raven back to the present. In her reverie Raven hadn't noticed she was lifting her food and tossing it back onto the plate like a cat toying with a dead mouse. While snatching a napkin from the middle of the table, she inadvertently glanced at her stepfather. He sat across from her with crossed arms, just quietly analyzing her behavior. She suddenly felt like a wild animal in a cage, her stepfather representing the scientist that studied its every agonizing move without a shred of sympathy. His impassive expression altered unexpectedly as he shot her an inane grin, and the powerful urge to smash his face in was ever so tantalizing. Having no appetite was no longer the primary issue.
Raven cleared her throat and enquired, "May I be excused?"
"You've hardly eaten anything," said Arella with an exasperated sigh. "Fine, whatever. You're excused."
As Raven stood and headed towards the stairs, her stepfather called out, "I'll check on you later, Rae."
Though she hadn't eaten much, a cyclone of nausea whirled inside her gut and threatened to gush outward like an erupting volcano. Already the vile bile's acidic property stung her innards. Her stepfather's definition of checking on someone had been far from ordinary. This was the card she had been handed. Despite its unpleasantness Raven learned how to endure. In this life she had no choice.