DB's Shorts: I Swear It

I patiently wait for school to end.

3rd subject, 4th subject,....I wait until the bell rings. Then I get out.

It's raining, I think dejectedly. The canal's going to flood over again.

Since it is raining, I have a hard time getting a ride.

I always hitchhike. I haven't got the money to pay for fare. When I do, I don't spend it. I hide it underneath my socks. It's the most successful one yet. Two straight months and still no one has stolen it.

I finally get a ride. The driver is a young teenage guy, probably about the same age as me. I notice his face beaming as I get in. His teeth is unnaturally white, as if he used one too many teeth whiteners. It's straight, though. I know mine are already yellowing and crooked. But appearances never did matter to me. I don't think anyone living my life will.

Three minutes later, I thank him and ask him to drop me off(or was it the other way around?I never do seem to remember). My 'house' is still far away, but people start getting weary once they realize where my home is. It's much easier to pretend that I live in a nice suburban home. Plus, if I ask to be dropped off near our house, the neighbors will start rumors. My mother, I know, couldn't care any less for me, but she will give me hell for embarrassing her. As if she doesn't do that on her own.

I arrive home relatively late. Relatively, since I know normal people, normal PARENTS, would get frantic and mad when they're children haven't arrived yet, and also because a our place, there isn't such a thing as a curfew. It's either you're here or you're not. The neighbors won't complain about that; they'll only be interested if they see a car dropping me off or a man walking me home.

Maybe, if I lived in a normal home, my mother would ask,"Where have you been?"when I arrive. Instead, she says, "Get out of the way; you're blocking out the light"

My mother is getting ready for a 'date'. I know by now that when she goes out at this hour,rather, when the sky would turn this dark(I neither have a watch nor a clock), she won't be home in the morning. Or a day or days. The most was 2 and a half weeks.

My mother is beautiful. Or she could be, if she would stop placing mounds of make up on her face. Even a little bit makes her look like a drag queen.

My big sister is sneering at me. "Way to go, slut,"she says,and makes a face at me. I know that she and mother both think that. None of them know that I go to night classes. It's better this way, she won't be accusing me of being a prissy princess with too high hopes.

My big sister is tiny, like my mother. Both of them has this air of fragility, the kind that screams out, "Hey, look at me. I've wasted my life and I could break down any moment now." I'm different. I'm big, and I look healthy, as if I never experienced going to sleep just to forget that I'm hungry. I think that I have big bones. If I didn't, I know that I would look just as small, or maybe even smaller, than them.

She's dressed up, my big sister is. She's still young, yet she's already throwing her life, dressing and acting like a slut, and going home during noon. She even had a job as a stripper, till it ended when the cops made a raid. She got off by sleeping with one of them.

I quickly go to my room. I don't want to fight with her, I'm too tired to. I detected a faint smell of alcohol when she talked, too. Arguing with her while she's drunk is as pointless as trying to make bees stop buzzing.

To be continued...