I walked downstairs to get a cup of coffee before leaving for school. As I poured the steaming liquid into a preheated thermos I heard the front door open. I rolled my eyes as loud laughter filled the once silent living room. As I left the kitchen I was greeted by a very familiar sight. My mother sitting on the lap of yet another strange man.
"Oh honey, why are you still up? What time is it?" She said trying to focus on the clock that hung from the opposite wall. Finding that her eyes wouldn't let her she turned to me for an answer. I looked into her glazed eyes as she rocked back and forth due to the amount of alcohol she consumed and god knows what else she took last night.
"It's six in the morning ma" I said tonelessly.
"Oh sweetie, don't you have to be at school in few hours?" She said bringing her hand up to her cheek in a momentary display of maternal concern.
"No ma I have to be at school in thirty minutes. I just woke up about fifteen minutes ago and I'm running late." I said as I grabbed my jacket and headed for the door.
"Where are you off to now Ava?" My mother said to my back as I opened the door letting in a crisp autumn breeze. I turned around in the doorway looking at her distant eyes.
"I'm going to school ma, remember?" I said with an agitated sigh.
"Oh, alright honey. I'll see ya when ya get home." She said as she turned to the man whose lap she was sitting in and started kissing his neck. I let the door slam with a loud bang.
"Yeah right." I said under my breath as I walked down the cracked walkway to the street. When I get home from school all she'll be worried about is her hangover. She'll want total quiet. Which means I'll have to stay in one place, the slightest sound will set her off. I'll probably end up going to the Dingo or the Nightly Double until she goes out for the night. Then tomorrow will be the same story, over and over. It never seems to end, never comes to a climax, it never changes. It's sad when your mother only acts like a mother when she's high or drunk. But then again, that's all I know, that's normal for me. What's normal anyways? Something you grew up with, something you've been conditioned to think? Nothing's normal, no one's normal, we're all lost in this fucked up world and trying to find something that will bring us closer to this perception of normality. An ice cold wind came out of nowhere blowing my jacket back and stinging my face. I reached around and zipped my jacket up as far as it would go, blocking out the coldness. In the process of this I lost my grip on the thermos and dropped it, spilling my coffee all over the street and shattering the tempered glass that kept my coffee warm.
"Damnit," I said out loud as I kicked the thermos across the street out of anger. I watched as it flew into someone's yard and heard the dull thud as it hit the ground. I kept walking with my hands stuffed into the pockets of my jeans. Now I'd have to stop at the DX and shell out a dime for a cup of coffee. I can't make it through the day without a cup of coffee in the morning.
I walked into the station and filled up a cup and paid for it. As I walked out the door I saw Sodapop jumping out of the truck. Darry hardly stopped to give him a chance to get out like a human being. He just slowed down long enough to let him hop out then speed off on his way to work. I nodded in greeting as I passed him, I'm not one to have conversation, even just in passing this early in the morning. I gave a heavy sigh and lit up a smoke when the school came into view. Good ol' Tulsa High. I gave a low cold laugh as I exhaled and walked through the cloud of smoke I had just blown out.
It seemed like years had gone by since I last laid eyes on this place. I remember walking out those doors two weeks ago without a care in the world. Yeah, there was my mom to deal with and the Socs, but that all seems so minimal now. I had my friends for companionship and my brother for protection. Now my friends are to busy giving me space so I can deal with everything to actually be there for me. And my brother, well, there's not really to much to say about him. He was tough. I had to give him that much credit. He was there for me in the only way he knew how to be. Which of course included threatening every guy that dared to look at me with his life. And the ones that were brave enough to try and date me got a good beating whenever our relationship ended. Even if it was me that ended the relationship it didn't matter. He always assumed that the guy had to have done something that hurt me for me to break up with him. It wasn't too long until word got around and only the toughest hoods dared to even talk to me. Guy's liked me well enough, until they heard my last name, then they were long gone. It didn't bother me too much though. I always looked up to my big brother.
When times got hard, and believe me they got really hard, he was always my rock. If a guy wasn't tough enough to stand up to my brother, then he wasn't tough enough to be with me. Some people say I'm a lot like him. But I don't see it. I could never be that though. I mean look at me, I'm standing out here walking around in circles, too scared to go into school. I'm too scared to face those people. People that will pity me, for what I've lost, and people that will hate me forever because of my last name and who my brother was. I shook my head as I crushed my cigarette with my worn out shoe. I took a deep breath and walked through the double doors and down the hall to my Homeroom. I might not be as tough as my brother was but I'm still Avalon Winston. Weather or not my brother is dead or alive I'm still his sister, and as long as I'm around nobody will ever forget him.