How much can you expect from a teenager? My mother staring down at me while I sat on the floor doing my report on the book my teacher assigned, she gave me evil eyes. "Alice! I told you last night to wash the kitchen windows, you know how much I need your help around here!"
I glared out of my icy blue eyes that where framed around my dark brown hair. That's right, she needs all the help she can get, she also needs to help others just as much. She never did anything except buy the groceries, she wasn't around to make a mess so I had excuses to be cleaning up the house. I never saw her around dinner, she always "claimed" to be having supper with her friends, or that she was trying to date again. The thing was, I never got to meet these "guys" she met.
The truth is, about three years ago she was happy. She was actually engaged, I thought she would never get involved with anyone again, but I was wrong. God damn that bullshitter, he screwed her up bad. Broke up with her for some 40 year old blonde chick...You know, the plastic type. She even wanted a baby. Actually, she wanted another kid a year after she had me, but of course my dad passed away, heart attack. One of those rare cases where the guy dies at 30.
She took it out on me, try being 13 and having your mom go on binges, coming home at 11 pissed out of her mind, then hinting to me that I was the reason "he" broke up with her. I just came home, did my homework, watched some lame soap opera and go to sleep. By now, it didn't matter. I would move out in two years and hopefully carry out a life unlike my moms.
"Alice, I'm going to be out late tonight, I have to finish up some extra work I'll be back–.." "Yeah, never, I know there's pizza in the fridge and I already did my homework, bye." She shut up and stood there, like a movie being paused. She sighed and grabbed her car keys with her stupid designer leather gloves that she got from "him." [She liked them to much to stuff them in her closet
I clicked on the TV, flipping through all the channels. I thought there was too many of them, half of which we didn't have. It was stupid–"Just show me the ones I have so I can watch something and kill my brains cells dammit!" I would always scream. I am just a bit weird.
I didn't have a lot of friends. Sure you have your mini group, the one that sticks together so they have someone to stand around with at break. I feel sorry for us. The kind of friends that never hung out after school. I always felt I was the "less important friend" in the group, no one ever continued on about anything I ever said, it just went quiet. It became uncomfortable so I stick to listening to conversations.
"Downtown yesterday, there was a woman who had been working in the national bank. Co-workers stated clearly that she was a very sweet talkative lady who had been working at the location for over ten years. Police have video evidence of the woman stealing thousands of dollars at one time, employees where shocked—..." I gazed at the glowing screen. Nothing good ever happened, I personally dislike the world.
It went on about burglars, shootings and car accidents. I was about to flip the TV off until all of a sudden my old apartment building played on the screen. I sat there in interest.
"A shocking story about a small neighbourhood on the south side of the city, a man killed his 18 year old son brutally this morning. Details are that a woman taking her early morning stroll spotted the stabbing through the window's of the man's house.
"The boy had his arms in front of his face, then I saw the man thrusting a knife into the boy's shoulder," she had told news reporters in shock. The lady's name is kept under confidential."
"The man then placed the body in a black garbage bag after attempting to clean up the mess. He put it into the back of his truck and drove down the street. The man used to own the apartment buildings and even after selling, he kept a copy of the key. He placed the body in a vacant room on the top floor."
I almost swallowed my tongue. I used to live in that building. I used to live on the top floor. They didn't say what room number. I debated whether I would tell my mother, or if she would even believe me. After we moved out, they had a plumbing problem in the room and then decided not to use it anymore. The third owner was too cheap to fix anything, of course finding this out by our neighbour that lived across the hall, I swear that lady was crazy. She wouldn't stop phoning us and complaining about how empty the building was.
I hoped that I wouldn't worry about it. That was a place in the past, and whatever happened now wasn't going to effect my future...if it was one to look forward too.
That night, my mom didn't show up. Maybe she crashed in one of those drunkie rooms when they were too drunk to drive anywhere. I would get mad at her for driving drunk. I always gave her the "One of these days!" speech about killing someone as well as herself. She never listened, just tread up the stairs and fall asleep on the recliner chair. I never talked to her about her problems, because when I did she would just deny it, or change the subject. It got to the point where she ignored me and I stopped bringing it up.
Brushing my teeth, I then combed my wavy brown hair. Everyone said it was pretty, I disliked it, but I find all people who do have waves and curls always want their hair straight. I never felt like doing anything to it.
I flicked my lamp on, grabbing my book I picked up from the last page I had stopped. The book was interesting, but I was sensing it would be one of those unsatisfying endings where someone important dies. I always hated those endings.
After an hour, I placed the novel on my night stand and shut off the light. I layed there shifting my position until I was comfortable. I was getting into that stage where your half awake and parts of your brain was beginning to sleep, and you would randomly twitch, which is strange because it happens to me all the time.
I could have swore I heard someone coming up the stairs, they were moaning too. I was thinking it could have been my mom, but she has a more womanly voice, unlike the one I was hearing. I was too tired to care and decided my mom did come home after all and it was the TV.
The sun woke me up before my alarm did. It was the weekend. I didn't really like the weekends. I never had anything to do. After finishing homework I would go to the store, or just walk up and down the sidewalks.
I didn't notice until later that day that my book was missing. I was planning on finishing it, but randomly disappeared which was weird because my mom never went into my room. She left long before I woke up. I find that during the night I can sleep through anything, but when I try to in the morning someone turning my door knob will disturb me.
Sitting down I glanced over to the clock, "2:30..." I thought for a moment. "What did I do today?" I needed to find a hobby. I used to take piano lessons but I quit when my teacher tried to make me play "correctly" I never thought of myself as a very stubborn but I guess that' what my teacher thought.
I sighed trudging up the stairs. I felt like changing, I was already tired and I could have had a nap, if I was the kind of person who took naps. I opened my door, which was oddly closed and walked in. I dug through my closet for my sweats, pulling out shirts I haven't seen in about a year. Turning around, I glanced at my night stand, and lying there was my book.
I stood there and looked around. "Now that's weird." I thought, wanting to say it out loud, but the sound of my own voice would have scared me at that point. I spun around to my door, completely forgetting about changing. The door was closed.
That was so odd, "Just a draft.." taking a deep breath I slowly turned the door handle. I stepped down the stairs more quickly then needed. When I reached the bottom, I discovered the TV was on. The voices of the people talking calmed me, made me feel less alone.
I tried not to let things get to me, I would just try as hard as I could to think about something else. Sitting on the couch, I turned the channel to History Television. It was working for about five minutes until..
Click. The TV shut off. I rapidly grabbed the remote and flicked it back on. I sat there not breathing for a minute until it clicked off again. I took a deep breath, inhaling and exhaling. I just snapped it back on, and it would go off, and then I would turn it on. It was like a game you would play with your siblings, except it wasn't as scary. It got to the point where every thirty seconds it would just shut off.
"That's it." I declared. Getting myself off the couch I headed for the door. As soon as I reached for the handle I heard the stupid thing turn on. I looked behind me, my eyes wide I ripped the door open then closing it, not caring wether it was locked.
Walking down the road, a gust of cold air blew down my shirt. I was too petrified to grab a coat and I just shuddered trying to deal with it. Step by step I was thinking more and more of how strange that was. I didn't feel alone, that's what made it scary.
By the time I reached the end of the road, I stood there in a puzzling way. "Where am I?" I asked. "What is this place...Why am I here..." I repeated the questions. I felt lost, hopeless, I even felt depressed and confused. Holding my hand up to my forehead I thought through things. At that moment a heard a car horn and I was looking up into my mom's face.
"Get in the car! You look like your freezing!" she commanded me. I didn't think twice, I hopped in the passenger seat and belted myself in. I knew where I was. I was in my neighbourhood, and I don't know what the hell had just happened.
"What where you doing? You looked confused." she questioned me, almost sounding mad. I shook my head. "I wasn't feeling good, I was about to turn back." She looked at me like she knew there was something I wasn't telling her. She was right, I wouldn't dare mention what happened, she'd call me crazy and lock me inside the house.
She actually stayed for supper that day, she even made it. I looked at her, expecting her to tell me she was going to die or something. It actually felt normal, with a normal conversation to go with it. I knew it would change the next day, or maybe mom was dating men.
I stayed up late, I actually watched the TV too. It didn't turn off either. Of course my mom was on the other couch beside me. We were silent since supper, and I wasn't expecting anything else from her...Actually I was wrong. "You should get to bed." she told me. I paused for a minute, "Why?" clearing her throat she answered, "Because it's getting late, and you won't feel good in the morning if you end up oversleeping."
We had a small argument, I tried telling her that I was old enough to decide when I went to bed, and then she told me I still had two more years until I got to decide. I ended up going to my room anyways after the programs got boring.
Getting under the covers, I didn't remember the incident until I saw my book. The yellow cover stood out and I yelled at myself in my head. "No! Don't think about it, just go to sleep!" I bravely shut off the lamp and wrapped the blanket over my head. I felt wide awake now, I was wishing I stayed on the couch.
It was silent, it felt a bit too silent, I don't know how that makes sense because it's silent anytime. I heard papers crunching in the closet. I remember as a little kid I would go investigate what was happening. For some reason I never did that anymore, I was too scared to think about finding out.
I heard papers scatter, and my book slid off the stand and plopped onto the floor. I kept my head under the blanket, my jaw clamped shut. I could have hyperventilated if I wasn't trying to stay still. After a few minutes of rustling, and after nothing had touched me so far, I decided to call out. "STOP IT!" There was a silence and then I guess I fell asleep in some sort of strange way after hearing my mom call, "Go to sleep.." I swore I heard moaning on the stairs again...
