• Selfishness

    I woke up the next morning to the sound of a vase crashing to the floor. Scattering in a million pieces, broken never to be fixed again. I reluctantly rolled out from under the covers and lightly my toes touched the hard surface of my wood floor. I walked over to the bathroom and turned on the shower, turning the knob as far as it could go to hot. The water burned my skin but soon the irritation eased away. I let the water run down my whole body, pushing away the sweat and tiredness of myself. Sounds of yelling come from downstairs and I turn off the shower. I dry myself off and towel dry my hair. I through on some cotton sweat pants, a lace cami and slid my toes into my blue fuzzy slippers. The yelling continues and I could tell it was my mom making all the racket. Probably just got back home from the party her and dad went to last night, drunk and disoriented. I glide across the room to my mirror and dress drawer. I sit on a chair and start combing through my dark, tangled hair and look at myself for a minute. My porcelain skin which doesn’t have a single freckle on it, my dark brown eyes standing out from my black hair and paleness. My tinny figure enclosed by the mirror like it’s trying to keep me there forever. I brush through my hair one last time and through it into a bun.
    A very messy bun that my mom would probably scold but I could care less right now. I open my door and walk down the long hallway leading to the grand stairs. Unlike other kids I live in a mansion. Literally.
    Its blood red carpets cover the floor, and pictures hang on all the walls. Different paintings ranging from Vangough to divinchie. Really, as if we need them. They just gather dust and soon are forgotten time to time other then when the maids come to dust them off. I pass multiple doors holding secrets and old junk. I turn the corner and am finally where I can see the front door wide open and the maids scampering everywhere trying to pick up every single broken piece of the priceless vase. I descend down and the maids greet me, I greet them. I smile then frown at the site of my mom’s gown scattered everywhere across the room leading the main dining hall. I creep in quiet as a cat and see here scattered across the table in her undergarments. Father is nowhere to be seen. I slowly approach her and am at the right angle to see her face all droopy and her make-up smeared across her whole face. My father walks in with her robe and drapes it over her.
    “Sad site to see, huh?”
    “Yeah. More like pathetic.” I look at him and he gives me a wry smile. His arms open wide and I gratefully accept them. He hugs me tightly and whispers softly into my ear. “Your mother has her reasons.”
    “Yeah. To appeal her own selfishness.” I look up into his deep brown eyes. The softness of them trying to make me understand that my mother is not like that. But I think different. A groan escapes my mother’s limp body and she lifts herself up, wobbling side to side. My father lets me go and secures his hands on my mother’s waist. The warmth of his arms around my skinny body turns cold, abandoned. My dad smiles apologetically then focuses back on my mother. She groans again then looks up at me. She smiles then abruptly her smile fades and she’s standing firm on her own two feet, instantly infront of me. Her hand rises in the air and it hits my cheek, like needles pounding into my face. My hand reaches up and touches the puffy flesh.
    “Dear! Why did you do that to Elizabeth?!” My father comes to my side and tries to look at how bad it is. I just turn away. I can tell I’m on the brink of tears but I refuse to let them out. I won’t waste such a thing on a lowly woman such as my mother. I look at her and she looks back at me. Her hand reaches around my head and pulls the ribbon out of my hair that was holding my bun up.
    “To think I have a daughter who can’t even do her hair right. My daughter the successor of the rose garden.” She scowls at me then walks off half wobbling upstairs and disappears. My father kisses my cheek, rubbing it like it will make the pain go away. Which he knows it never will. He kisses it again and then runs up the stairs disappearing also. The maids run up to me asking what I want for breakfast, trying not to show what they just saw on their faces.
    “Eggs and some toast will be fine. Thanks.”
    “Yes my lady.” The maids run off and I enter the dining room once again. I look at where my mother was once strewn across the table. I pay no attention. Just walk to the other side of the five foot table and sit, where my food is ready. But my appetite is gone. I take a bite of toast and leave it there. To get cold and rotten. I walk into my dressing room, throw on my uniform, grab my backpack, and head out the door where a shoufer is waiting in a sleek black car. My hair has dried now and is sitting just past my solders and curls at the end. I look through the tinted window of the car. I see kids walking on the side of the road, laughing and smiling. Enjoying life to its fullest. I on the other hand sit here, in this fancy car. Having too much when there are other people who need more help, and care. Love. I can feel myself yurn for that love, and care. Wanting to once again feel the warmness, the softness of being loved again. Am I selfish for wanting these things when I can already have what I want in an instant? Can I let myself be selfish for wanting these things? Selfish because I want my mother back, a normal life, normal friends, love? Yes that is considered selfishness. But then again my mind asks me “But isn’t if okay to be selfish once in a while?” “To want what you can’t have?” Then I realized how my mom always said “It's okay to be selfish once in a while, as long as you don’t abuse it.” How ironic. The same woman who told me those words, my mother, takes advantage of it herself. Turning back on what she said. I look out the window once again and a shiver courses through my skin. As we come to a halt in front of my school, there’s the bird. The black crow that was outside my window last night. Staring at me. Waiting with its blood eyes. Black and still.