Picture source: pexels.com (royalty-free images).
I have never been a good writer, but I have accumulated a couple of self-created stories I have never shared in front of a larger audience. So I decided to give it a try, maybe someone will like it.
"Dear Diary,
Today Olivia turns one year old, and she is not with William or me. She doesn't even know me. She won't remember how I held her in my arms after giving birth and called her by name, she won't remember the warmth that warmed me when I held my daughter. And worst of all, only I will remember it. I have to fight, don't I?..." /From Mia's diary./
-Noah, could you eat those flakes a LITTLE more discreetly? - I asked in a harsh tone and hit him on the back of the head with the back of my hand. - You seem to be nineteen, but you eat like a five-year-old.
-How angry we are. Better leave me alone. - Noah retorted, stood up, pushed back the chair, and angrily threw the bowl into the sink. - Wash it. I need to go.
-Do I look like a maid to you?- I asked when I watched him put on his leather jacket and put sunglasses on his eyes. The brother smiled, waved goodbye, and walked out the back door. I shrugged and reached for the caramel cookie from the bowl. It was not easy to settle in a new city, a new house, and live only with a brother with whom there is disagreement.
While eating the cookie, I ran my hand through my hair, twisting it into braids. Another September. Another pointlessness. Another year. And so always.
I drank another sip of tea and looked at my watch. The time said it was five minutes to nine in the morning. One more damn hour and then I'll face the hell that is school. They, my new classmates, probably already know why I moved here from Nashville. It could not be hidden, not every girl gets pregnant and gives her child to other people to raise. Remembering the director's interesting look, I felt bile rising in my throat. Did I really have to show my emotions so.. demonstratively?
I washed the dishes in the sink and slowly went to my room, where it was a mess. There were folded clothes on the messy bed, including my today's "holiday outfit" - a white sweater with a hood, black jeans, and white boots. As black and white and inconsistent as this day. I quickly got dressed and sat down at the mirror table, where I combed my hair while looking at it and covered the blue circles under my eyes with powder. I put the glasses on my eyes, and the hood on my head grabbed my old, shabby bag with my wallet and phone inside, and went out the door of the house. I locked them and noticed a bus stop on the other side of the street, where a bunch of young people were already waiting, who, as you could see from a distance, was having fun, not even noticing me. The girls were wearing short dresses, the guys were wearing suits and everyone was holding roses. Chances are they were my classmates.
"Come on Mia, you can do it," I repeated to myself and walked down the porch. I slowly walked towards the bus stop, overcoming the urge to pull the music player out of my bag pocket and ignore the world. What if they know? What if the teachers have any complaints? What if some psychologists get involved again?
I crossed the street and stood a little further from the young people, staring stiffly around at the same houses. This area was sophisticated, as if, so the fact that I'm standing here, with the rumors and all the other intrigues of the past, will arouse people's interest. It was enough that yesterday the neighbor came with cookies and cake and disgusting greetings to the area.
I smelled cigarette smoke - What time will the bus be? - one of the guys asked, blowing out thicker smoke than smoking cigarettes. I turned away and continued to stare at the toes of my shoes.
Then I noticed a yellow bus with a black stripe under the windows. How typical and predictable! Shaking and almost threatening, it swayed towards the bus stop.
-Are you that Mia?- One of the guys asked, who had ski sunglasses on his nose. Ignoring the question, I boarded the bus, showed my card, and sat in the only free seat in the bus, right at the front. A bunch of people got in behind me, laughing, and a girl coming up behind them, reeking of cigarettes, leaned over and said,
-Bad mistake, dear.-
To be continued!!!
