He Said She Said
Author's note: I wanted this story to be something that means a lot to people who have suffered through similar... Show full author's note »
Suffering the consequencesThe air is cold and lonesome, as always. The mirror stares back at me, reflecting a ghostly figure. Another dreadful morning, and it's only day one of my long, weekly routine. I must admit, this is by far the best Monday I've had in a long time. I didn't trip down the stairs on my way to the bathroom, and I didn't wake up fifteen minutes before the bus came. I feel invincible this morning, except the mirror is trying to convince me otherwise. I better get a move on, or I'll be late for the bus, although that wouldn't be such a bad thing. I stumble down the stairs, only to find Sara staring me up and down a few dozen times.
“Oh my god, is that what you're wearing to school?” I look at her in disappointment once again. She is all about herself and making sure she looks perfect every day. I feel like she wants me to be the same way. Not in a million years. I am dressed from head to toe in my casual every day wardrobe. Like every other day, I'm wearing my converse with a pair of old skinny jeans I've owned ever since ninth grade. I've got on a T-shirt with my favorite rock band, Escape The Fate, underneath a plaid shirt, and I have my cute little beanie covering my questionable hair-do, and of course I couldn't possibly forget about my lip ring. Sara’s wearing her designer boots with her brand new American eagle dress, and her body is drowning in numerous amounts of jewelry. I guess me and my sister's style differs quite a bit. She's only in tenth grade. She'll grow up sooner or later. I can't wait to leave the house in a year and do what I want with my life. My time will come. Sooner or later.
“Is there something wrong?” Her face is expressionless, but I can sense the bitter taste of bitchiness flowing through her mind right now. She's giving me a dirty look on the inside.
“UGH, why couldn't I have a cooler sister who won't embarrass me?!” She stomps her feet and rushes herself out of the house to catch the bus with the neighbors. Sara never likes to wait for the bus with me. She wouldn't want to catch my bad reputation disease, which is easily contagious to anybody who is within five feet of me. Hm, maybe I should lock the door and go back to bed. I've missed too many days to count this year, and maybe it's better that I skip one more day. But what would the kids at school think? What would Mom say? I hurry out the door, just a micro-second before the bus makes a quick stop at my driveway. The doors open with a loud squeal. I hate this part. Every step I take down the aisle is another voice whispering sleazy comments about me. It's too uncomfortable for me to handle. I've made it to the point where I've broken down into tears on my way to school. Luckily, the bus is too crowded and loud for anybody to hear my whimpers.
“Look it's the school hoe.... Look the tool's back.... Hey murderer.... When's the baby due?.... Chuckle chuckle, laughs here and there, rude comments and rumors beginning. This is my typical bus ride. It isn't as bad as it sounds. It's worse. I have always had my issues. I've never been perfect, but I didn't mean to hurt anybody. I didn't want to be the school hoe, or a tool, or the soon to be mother. It just happened. People make mistakes, only some people, actually have to suffer the consequences for their actions. This is exactly what Sara was talking about, and I don't blame her for not wanting anything to do with me. She's only my step-sister. And she became of this after my little “incident”. This is my story.