The darkness of her room seeped through her skin, into her mind and heart, bearing once again the same vision she always had. Her mother, covered once again in dark red wine that stained her silky wedding dress, hanging from the ceiling, the rope that rung her neck bringing out a circle of purple bruises. For years now, whenever she closed her eyes, Weiss could see her mother's final moments. They'd imprinted themselves somewhere deep inside her, living and stirring in the blackness of her stomach like a wild animal, feeding on her guilt, breaking her down to nothingness.
Weiss opened her eyes. Not real, not real.
Light shone through the tan curtains and into her bedroom, illuminating the small and cramped space, barley larger than a broom closet, that was squished between four floral walls. It was just enough room for her twin bed and a small, but accommodating dresser. For the past two years since her mother had passed away, her family had been forced to live in smaller and smaller homes, downsizing every time her father lost another job. At one time her mother had been the provider, her job as an accomplished lawyer bringing in enough money for them to relax and live in comfort. But when she was gone her good-for-nothing father had to take up work, and did so poorly. He reacted terribly to all forms of criticism, and screamed at the customers he came across in the retail jobs he tried to partake in. When money started coming in from the government, he took a lousy shift at a subway and gave up in advancing.
A spider crawled across the floor of her room. Weiss had come to like the bugs that lived with her. They were like friends, in a rather pathetic, but comforting way. They ran across her furniture and floors, the spiders making webs in her lamp, which was so ugly she never bothered turning it on anyways. And they never bit her or attacked, so she let them stay. They were better houseguests than most people that came over.
Most people that came over we're friends of Whitley, her little brother. She knew all they did was smoke weed in the cellar, where their father stayed far away from due to its complete infestation of longbody spiders, though they'd yet to bite anybody. She'd also known them to get into fights, and that once one of the fights had ended with Whitley breaking his arm. They were terrible influences on him, but she wasn't much better. At least they could talk.
A door opened and closed, followed footsteps that passed her room and went farther into the back of her house. She didn't have to check to know that her dad had just gotten back from some other woman's house. It was a new girl each week. Find her at the bar, sleep with her once, introduce her to the kids, then break up. The pattern was sad, but reliable.
She heard her father fall down onto his bed. He was going to sleep, like he always did in the day. He worked the night shift, which Weiss knew was uncommon in Subway stores, but she supposed the owners must be weirdos.
Finally she left her room and went into the kitchen. It was another small space, with more outdated wallpaper, a oven that only worked half the time, and a mini fridge. Not even a whole fridge, just a mini one. That was all that they could fit.
Across the counter, she could see Whitley on his phone, probably texting his girlfriend, Emerald. His hair was white that morning, which was uncommon. He had piles of used up spray dyes that lasted a week, and he usually refused to go about without them.
Weiss knocked on the counter twice, to let him know she was there. "Hey Weiss," he greeted her.
She took a box of cereal and poured it into a bowl. They didn't have any milk, but as she went to sit down by Whitley in the living room she decided that she was too hungry to care.
"You gonna make me breakfast too, retard?"
Weiss rolled her eyes. Go to school, she signed back.
He didn't respond.
You could try to learn. She narrowed her eyes.
"Fuck off, Weiss," his voice was monotone, careless, cold. He wasn't in the mood to get riled up or to compromise, which meant that he hadn't been hanging out with Mercury - the leader of his friends - for the past few days. Weiss almost smiled. It was something.
"We've got new neighbors," he added. It was an apology, or as close as she was going to get with one.
She went along with it. Names?
"Ruby, Yang, and Taiyang. Taiwan's is the dad. Yang is your age, she's pretty hot."
Weiss rolled her eyes.
"Ruby's two years younger. She's more of a cutesy innocent type. Somebody that a guy who's into that 'Daddy-Babygirl' stuff would want. However, and this is a plus for you, she's gay."
Where is their house?
"For fucks sake. Can you not hold in your queer-ass perversion for more than two seconds?"
Weiss shook her head.
"It's 1318 Butterfeilds. The one across from that old schizo freak who used to set off fireworks on Thursdays."
Weiss nodded, signed a thank you, and gulped down the rest of her dry, miserable cereal, and rushed from the house. Her life had been shit for the past few years. But maybe a cute girl named Ruby Rose could brighten it up.