Jack
December 3rd 1983. 9:00 am
I cover my hands over my ears as I try to focus on reading my book. I can hear shouting in the living room, and the sound of papers being flung across the room. Breathing heavily, I fold the corner of my page and put my book down. Sweat pours down my face as I crawl across the worn down carpet of my room to get my AC/DC vinyl. As soon as I get the vinyl ready, I begin playing AC/DC. The first song is "Back in Black," which is the reason why I started playing AC/DC in the first place. I always loved the voice of Brian Johnson. I have a lot of respect for him. He's my hero. Anyone who says he's a dickhead is an utter hoser. He's that much of a cool and tight guy.
For hours, I just sit in my bedroom, reading and listening to music. Time basically speeds up in my bedroom, because when I get too tired to read, it's around one in the afternoon. As Mom always says, time flies.
Speaking of Mom, she is not happy.
Five hours later
I go into the kitchen to get something to eat for a snack. I always eat Mom's double chocolate chip cookies, which are in the cookie jar on top of the fridge. However, the moment I enter the kitchen, I see a chair turned over, and Mom sitting at the table, her head in her hands. Her hair's a mess, which looks nothing like Mom at all. In fact, it looks as though she tried to rip it out with a chef's knife and succeeded in some parts.
On the floor, there's all these papers scattered around the floor, with photos on the ground. I see some of them; they are of me, Mom, and Dad in Halifax, where I was born. I moved to Calgary when I was three and a half. We go to Halifax each summer, and sometimes, Christmas break.
"Hey Mom," I say, feeling a little unsure. What the heck am I doing? I am so not amped right now because of just this.
"Hey Mom," she says, looking up at me. Her eyes are red, and she has this smile that makes me uncomfortable.
"I'll book," I say, throwing my hands up and looking down. "We'll chat later."
"Yeah, book." Mom stands up with her hands on the table. "I need to be alone right now, and I don't want you bothering me. So shut up and leave."
I feel like Mom just bitch slapped me in the face. It makes me feel even more ill than I already feel.
2:30 pm
I hear footsteps coming from behind the door. And I hear shouting.
"Kandyce!" Marco. I came to his house because I can't come to Cass's, even if he's my BFF. His aunt and uncle think I'm a noob. I kind of am.
Kandyce, Marco's really blar older sister answers the door. She's picking her nose and stares at me. She's reminding me I'm a wastoid.
"I need to talk with Marco," I rush. "It's about this warped stuff going on at my house."
2:34 pm
"'Sup dude?" Marco says with a smile. He looks like he just used spray-on hair dye, which he probably did, because his hair is purple for some reason.
"Nothing good," I say, and I tell his everything that just went on at my house. Marco just listens.
"So that's why you came in this cold," he says. I nod. Winters in Calgary are so cold, unless there's a chinook, which is when they're a bit warmer.
"What do you think is going on with my parents?" I feel like I'm going to cry. I take a deep breath.
"I don't know," Marco says. "I've got shit of my own too. I might not be able to help you."
"Alright then." I feel bagged that Marco couldn't help me, but I do feel better talking to him. For some tard reason, talking about my problems makes me feel better.
"I'll book," I say. A few minutes later, I'm out the door, walking in the cold, dead winter.
I can tell you that winters in Calgary really are cold. Heck, winters in Southern Alberta are cold. I know that cause I live in Southern Alberta.