You reviewers are completely ridiculous. You guys are just too sweet!
DibMagician: Sorry! Yes, it was Membrane. And thanks!
Dibsthe1: WOO! Haha, yeah, I love sweet stuff like that. And thanks!
Nolay: Yeah, Nickelodeon just doesn't have ANY good cartoons anymore. Thanks for the review!
Gipsychan: Jeez, thank you!
Invader Zim and every character related to it belong to the all-mighty Jhonen Vasquez. And don't you just love picturing his cringing little face while reading all our horrible goblin-child fics? I know I do. Strawberry however, belongs to me.
"I hope you call Gaz, but if you don't I'll understand."
There sat my mother in her fancy car, waiting for me to go inside. She had driven me home from the mall making all these apologies, asking how everyone was. Bull. She didn't care. It was all a show. She'd drive back home in her fancy new car to go back to whatever it was she did. But she couldn't drive away yet, the show wasn't over. She had to wait for her "little Gazzy" (gag me with a spoon) to go back inside, because that's what a good parent did. A good parent that didn't leave her children and husband. Yeah right.
I walked in and slammed the door but I didn't hear the car drive away. I looked out the window and saw she was still there. She could rot there for all I cared. I heard Dib and someone else in the kitchen and I smelled Bloaty's. The thing that scared me though was that someone sounded an awful lot like Dad.
Was he drunk? No, he sounded fine. Could he really be home having a normal conversation with Dib? Only one way to find out.
"Hey."
They looked at me confused, like they had forgotten I was part of the family. Then Dad smiled sadly at me. I knew what was coming.
"Gaz, I'm really sorry and-"
"Save it." That came out a little too harsh. I tried to soften my voice. "I know how much Mom meant to you."
Dad smiled a little and pulled up the chair next to him. "Want some pizza Gaz?"
I thought about it. "I'll take it in my room." He looked hurt, so did Dib but I needed some time to think. I grabbed two slices then ran up the stairs to my room.
I sat down on my bed, put the pizza aside then opened my hand. There was my mom's number. I stood up quickly, stood over the trashcan, thought about it, and then sat back down, the number still in my hand.
Why can't I just throw it out? I don't want to call her. I hate her. Or do I? Yeah, yeah I do. So I'll just throw it out.
I stood up again, made it to the trashcan, but I couldn't throw it out.
Just keep sitting down, you'll never be able to throw it out. But I don't want it. I hate my mother! She left us, my father became an alcoholic, and Dib was so depressed he was practically suicidal! Since when does she have the right to be called? Maybe you don't want to call her, but someone else does. Make that two people. Dib and Dad! She doesn't deserve them! But maybe it's not a question of deserving...Still, she'd just hurt them again! Isn't that for them to decide? No, they'd make the wrong choice! She doesn't deserve them and that's final! But Dib deserves a mom, and she's the only one he's got! Maybe she's changed. So? What if she has? Then she deserves another chance. What if she hasn't changed? There's only one way to find out.
I jumped up and got a pencil from my desk wrote a small note to Dib on the back on the paper, took a deep breath, walked into the hall, then knocked on Dib's door.
"Yeah? Hey Gaz, what's up?"
I froze. I had no idea what to say.
"Gaz? What is it?"
Finally I handed him the paper, then ran back to my room.
Maybe it was time for Dib to make his own choices.