Beep, beep, beep.
Unconsciously I slammed my hand on that stupid alarm clock. It stopped immediately but the stinging in my hands began. Ugh, not a good way to start the annual celebration of my birth.
“Well that’s what you get for abusing the alarm clock,” a voice said in my brain. I snorted because of course the logical part of me was awake while I was barely able to keep my eyes open.
I hobbled-slash fell-out of my bed. Several curls tumbled into my face. For a few seconds I just sat there on the carpeted floor of my bedroom re-thinking getting up. Then I remembered the fact that my aunt was probably making some extravagant breakfast for my birthday and immediately got up.
I went to the bathroom that’s located in my bedroom and started getting ready for the god awful day I’m about to have. See, unlike other people, I hate my birthday with all my heart. One: it’s stupid that you have to acknowledge the day you were born like it’s something to celebrate when it’s really just an excuse to get presents or money from people. And two: it reminds me of all the things my real parents are going to miss.
Don’t get me wrong, my aunt is great but there are some things you can’t replace and the absence of your parents is one of them. But nobody gives a crap about that because they're too busy forcing you to celebrate your birthday to make them feel better about themselves. So when you really think about it, it has nothing to do with you and everything to do with them.
I pushed those thoughts to the side to revisit them later and started practicing my fake smile that I am most likely going to use all freaking day. When I was satisfied with that I switched gears to what I’m going to wear today. Since my goal is to not acknowledge what today is supposed to be, I'm planning on wearing what I usually wear everyday; ripped up, light-blue jeans that hang low on my waist and don't really draw attention to my curves and a fitted tank-top. Not the most appealing, I know but when you're just trying to survive high school it works.
Once I got undressed I looked over my body. I started at my head where my uncontrollable, curly, raven colored hair was piled into a messy bun. Even with my hair up I could still see a thick streak of white hair that started at my hairline and continued down my hair. I’ve had the same hair since that snowy night on the road which is funny because my name is Scarlett not Raven.
Guess my mom was hoping I would take her fiery, red hair from her, I thought as my eyes traveled from my hair to my face. There was a pair of emerald green eyes, a once straight nose which was crooked now because of the broken noses I suffered in grade school-don't ask, a mouth that belongs to full lips, and a soft jaw.
My eyes kept traveling down my body until they reached the scars that were and would always be paler than the rest of my body. One was located on the left side of my hip but wasn’t the only scar I had, it was just the creepiest one. You see, that night I had earned 3 jagged lines that started from my right shoulder and traveled down my back to my left or my hip, leading to the X on my hip. Kinda like claw marks. But I wouldn’t let those stupid scars waste any more of my time, this morning.
I forced myself to get dressed and slipped on a pair of bright red high tops before bounding down the stairs that led to the living room. The moment I crossed the threshold to the living room, I was immediately hit with the sweet and savory scent that was wafting from the kitchen. Only then did I realize that I was starved.
I made my way through the living room, passing the couch that Phil practically lived on and the tv that’s on non stop even when he’s passed out. I hated that man and that’s no exaggeration. He was always drunk and even if he wasn’t -which was rare- he was a jerk. I don’t know why my aunt is still with him seeing as anytime they talk, they yell at each other. It gets so bad sometimes that my aunt sprouts bruises the next day.
I stopped in front of him long enough to spit on him before continuing making my way through the living room. When he wakes up he’ll probably think that he drooled in his sleep, he always does when I do it. I stepped into the kitchen where aunt Jenna was manning the stove, creating a delicious meal as always. She had headphones in and was humming to herself, oblivious to the fact that she had an audience now. Only when she took something out of the oven and turned around to put it on the counter I was perched on, did she notice me. I could see her jump and started laughing. She was always jumpy. Which now that I think about it, is probably because- I stopped myself before the thought finished, not wanting to spoil my mood.
“Jesus Scarlett, you scared me!” She said as she threw the rag that was on her shoulder at me. I caught it mid-air and sniffed it. I always knew what she was making by smelling something. Weird, I know.
“Mmm, my favorite. Cinnamon rolls with extra cream cheese icing, a side of maple bacon, and a portion of cheesy scramble eggs,” I stated. I didn’t ask because I knew I was right, I always was. But she nodded anyway with a hint of blush creeping into her cheeks.
Aunt Jenna looked exactly like my mother, which makes sense seeing as they were twins. Like my mom, my aunt had the same fiery red hair, freckled face and blue eyes. She was also tall and skinny, kind like me, except I had more of a muscular build because of the self defense classes and the gym sessions I had everyday after school and work. My aunt was a spitting image of my mother which is probably why I feel so relaxed and comfortable around her. She has also been my mother figure for most of my life.
“It was supposed to be a surprise and you ruined it!” My aunt cried.
“I thought you would learn by now that it’s impossible to surprise me,” I replied. She crossed the kitchen and placed the thing she took out of the oven by me on the counter. Now that I had a better look at it I learned that it was cinnamon rolls she was holding and my mouth started watering.
“Might as well try,” she said as she started slathering icing on the baked goods. I reached my hand over to the one closest to me, intending to snatch it up and eat it up but my plan was ruined by my aunt as she slapped my hand away. “You’ll have to wait for everything to be ready and everybody to be awake. Don’t give me that look,” she added when she saw me pouting.
“But it’s my birthday!” I whined.
“Exactly, that’s why I made this because you can’t seem to take anything else that I hand to you. Plus you shouldn’t use that as an excuse seeing as you hate your birthday.” She said with a knowing look.
She was right as always. Ever since she took me and my little brother in, I always gave back any present she threw my way. She finally learned that I wouldn't accept anything from her after a year or three and instead asked what my favorite food was. When I told her, she made it and it’s been that way since. That's her “present” to me.
“Fine. Then I’ll go get Liam now,” I said getting down from the counter. I was about to head out of the kitchen when a hand landed on the scar that was on my right shoulder stopping me midstep. The hand was trembling and cold and made me shiver under my tank.
My aunt slowly turned me around so that I could face her. Her gaze was so heavy that I couldn’t look away. Oh, no, she’s going to either break down or have a very serious conversation with me. Great.
“I have to talk to you about something very important and you have to hear it before nightfall.” She said, serious conversation it is. “But until then I have to tell you that it’s a full moon tonight which means you have to take double the amount of meds today.”
I nodded in understanding because on the days of a full moon my emotions are out of whack. I get super angry over the stupidest thing which causes me to get violent. Thus, the crooked nose. I don't know why this happens but my parents must have known what was happening because one day they showed up with silver pills that somehow calmed me down. At first I thought that it just helped me sleep but when my parents died my aunt told me the full extent to how the pills worked.
“I know. Don’t worry I’ve been taking these meds since I was a child.” I added to her worried look. I gave her a quick hug before leaving the kitchen but for some reason I could sense that there was something wrong and something she wasn’t telling me. I shrugged away that feeling and went back up the stairs.
The more distance I made away from my aunt, the worse the feeling got. It got so bad that I wanted to scream to make it go away. Or worse, punch something.
I really need to take my meds, and soon.
After I climbed the stairs I made my way down the hallway that leads to my room. Right before I got to my door I stopped and turned to the left to where a door was located. I knocked on the door and heard footsteps bounding towards the door, guess my brother was already awake. He flung the door open. His face appeared from beyond the threshold but his normal happy face was as red as a tomato and there were wet streaks down his cheeks. Worry bloomed inside of me.
“What’s wrong? Did something happen? Are you hurt?” I quickly asked, worry dripping from my voice. I bent down until I was eye to eye with my 13-year-old brother.
“I’m fine. Nothing happened,” he said, wiping the tears from his face while shoving his other hand through his dirty-blonde hair. “What do you want anyway?”
I ignored the question and instead replied, “No you're not. You are crying and your face is as red as a tomato. So, why don’t you tell me what happened instead of being a jerk. Hmm?”
He opened the door a little more and jerked his head back. It was his way of saying: “Come in”, so I took the invitation and strode into his room. I scanned at the usually clean room which now looked like a tornado hit it. His pillow’s entrails were all over his floor and the bedpost looked like it had a bat taken to it. The nightstand’s drawers looked like they were thrown across the room causing the clothes inside to be scattered. Liam shut the door with a soft click and turned to me.
We both just stood there and stared at each other. I was waiting for him to calm down and he was waiting for me to say something. Liam and I looked similar but nobody thinks we’re related which makes sense seeing as he has blonde hair while I have raven hair. We both have the same green eyes and smile but the similarities ended there. He was tall for an 8th grader but not as tall as me, he was also skinny like our aunt. While he had a serious tan, I was pale. This is because I have always been self conscious about my scars. It’s not that I’m embarrassed by them, it’s just that I hate the way people look at me when they see them.
Finally his face started returning to the normal shade of tan he has and the tears stopped. And that’s when I started talking. “What happened here and why were you crying?” I asked, keeping my voice calm even though I already think I know what's happening. He’s developing what I have. I mean it makes sense because I had the same symptoms of extreme rage and violence.
“My girlfriend dumped me over text and something in me just snapped. It wasn’t even that serious, yet the rage in me is almost suffocating and the only thing that helped was destroying something,” he admitted between clenched teeth. The room’s conditions made more sense now.
“I’m sorry. I understand what you're going through and it’s okay to be mad but you need to learn control.” I said in a soothing voice. The last thing I need is him advancing on me with that rage because although I’ll win that fight, I really don’t feel like hurting my brother.
His jaw clenched and unclenched before he got ahold of himself. “You know what? You’re right. I’m sorry.” His body visibly relaxed and I think mine did too. I felt the tension that was building between us drift away into oblivion.
Deciding now was the best time to distract him I said: “Ok. Here’s what we’re going to do. Number 1: you’re going to tell me happy birthday, since you haven’t yet.” I narrowed my eyes at him, hoping this was working. “Number 2: we’re going to go down stairs and pretend everything is ok and eat the amazing breakfast aunt Jenna made. And just in case you haven’t been paying much attention, she did this because it’s my birthday! Then, after we eat we tell Jenna what happened and hope to god that she won’t be mad enough to ground you because we have important things to do tonight.” I say giving him a knowing look. A ghost of a smile appeared on his lips and I knew I’d succeeded.
And just in case you don’t know what I’m talking about, I’ll explain. My brother and I have a tradition of going to the movie theaters and overdosing on popcorn while watching the scariest movie there is available, then we go to the closest store and buy a birthday cake just for the two of us. Thus birthday cake is shared between me and my brother and we have a contest to see who can eat the most before getting full (I win everytime). (I know I said I hated my birthday-and I do-but this is the one thing I look forward to every year.) Our aunt does not approve of this tradition but lets us do it anyway seeing as I deny everything else that’s given to me today and I think she’s worried about me not being normal. Which in all fairness, makes sense because I’m not, at all, normal.
Comments (0)
See all