• Dawn grew to a rise in the morning. The shadows re treat to the nearest object they can find. The flowers open up their petals and scan the bushes for rays of gold. Birds awake and prepare for todays scavenge. A lazy cat in a windowsill stretches its claws and yawns. A dog on a patio yawns and then places his head back under his paw. Sunlight gleams through the windows of the quiet neighborhood, begging the lifeless zombies to open to a new day. Through slits in the curtains, the light silhouettes the shadows of the dark room. Photos of a childish girl glimmers the rays of light. I wake up and rub my eyes. Time for another day of dread, a week of relentless dread. I slug out from under my four covers and slide to the floor. I walk over to my bedside table and switch the alarm off. The time reads 5:30. I stretch and yawn and scratch my ribs.

    From my closet, I limply pull out a black poncho, black wrap long skirt, a patched shirt with prison stripes and some clean boots. In the sock drawer, I pull out my prison stockings. I tie up my messed and neatly brushed hair into two large pigtails. I throw in a few accessories: black bracelets, a terrycloth wristband with Reptar on the front, a studded and spiked wristband, and two medieval spiked gauntlets. I apply my Anne Rice vampire makeup and walk down the stairs to the kitchen.

    I pull out a Halloween bowl and pour my dry cereal-Count Chocula-and grab y chocolate mocha soy smoothie and sit at the bar. In silence I eat. My crunching echoes around me. In a few seconds my dad, my neutral tone dad, walks into the kitchen and pours some orange juice and grabs the Benefiber from the lazy Susan. He turns around and fro five seconds, was startled.
    “Did I scare you?”
    “Well, I was actually scared of the outfit you have on, but yes.”
    Steven tries to be funny, but it never makes me happy.
    “Where’s mom?”
    “Oh, she’s not feeling well. She’s still in bed Marie.”
    “What happened to ‘Where’s King Louis?’”
    “I haven’t said that in a while, you grew out of it.”
    I finish my breakfast and grab my White Seal backpack and strive out the door. Yeah, my name is Marie Amma Princeton; people mistake my last name for Parish. But its life, I know to deal with it. Parish was my real last name, but then Daddy Parish got a divorce and moved to the city of Augusta, Maine.
    My mom remarried to a guy named Steven Princeton. I have a step brother named Darrian-some lucky name he got. We all live in the two story colonial house here in Baltimore Maryland. Mr. Steven Princeton is a big shot broker for Wall Street. My mom, Elizabeth Princeton, is a lawyer for the Supreme Court in Washington. Me and Darrian go to Franklin High. Darrian asks me all the time if I wanna ride in his sweet, little toy Corvette. I always tell him I’d rather take the bus. Today I ride with Darrian in his flamed Corvette. It smells heavy of masturbation and sex-you can open the glove compartment and there is a box of condoms. I have a ’73 mint condition black bug. But I’m saving my money for more important things I can pay for instead of Steven buying me stuff.
    “Mars, this Corvette smells like s**t, what are you doing in here you porno freak?”
    “Oh, I was smoking a bit of hydro with some buddies from the lacrosse team.”
    “Aren’t you afraid to get kicked off?”
    “Chill Venus, I can cover it up. I learned from Gump.”
    Gump was actually Bubba James Beau. We call him Gump because his name is Bubba Gump, or what every coach says to him.

    We arrive to school in a late fashion. I run while holding my skirts. Darrian gets to hold the door for me as we sign in to the Student Affairs. I run to my locker while Darrian signs us in.

    I slither into my seat in my first class. Mr. Arthur doesn’t notice me sneaking into the front. Violet looks my way, but goes back to fixating her green bangs. Mr. Arthur places the chalk on the rail.
    “Marie, this is the second time this has happened.”
    Soon the whole class locked me into target. Mr. Arthur, my so called wonderful teacher, gave me a slip to detention.
    “Does this mean I get extra credit?”
    The students laugh.
    “No. I have to call your parents when you’re gone.”
    I grabbed the slip and stomped to the door.
    “Hey guys, looks like little Marie is joining the dark side.”
    My eyes locked onto the leader of the school lacrosse team, Rubin Barns. His family is Irish; I guess they should have named him Loki, the fool.
    “Actually, that arrangement was made before you were born, Blinkin’.”
    The class laughed and I followed the blue brick road to detention.
    The classroom for detention is located I the U-way. I walk in with the door slamming behind me. I pull off my sunglasses, walk to the sign in sheet, grab my geometry work, and sit down. Mrs. Lone looks at me from her romance novel with Fabio man on the cover. She’s been reading the same book since the start of winter break.
    “Hello there Marie, I thought good students were forgiven.”
    “Actually, were forgiven if we screw up on the teacher’s coffee.”
    She chuckles behind the pages and continues reading. Mrs. Lone is a Junior History Honors teacher. I chat with her in the cafeteria. My art club redesigned the detention room. We painted the walls red, stained the wooden desk, and remolded and refurbished the furniture. The principal was our first visitor on the second day. She told us it reminded her of the sixties. I asked if the principal, Mrs. Coute, if I could bring in some raspberry incense. I didn’t hear an answer since then.

    My lunch is often too loud. I’ve got a few people I hang out with, but I’m never completely honest with having friends. I had an encounter with a prep once. I think her name was Angie. She comes up to me and asks me to be her friend.
    “Are you doing this out of courtesy, or are wanting someone for an experiment.”
    She inches away as if I carry rabies. I sit outside with my penguin umbrella. I eat my lunch, which is filled with: one granny apple I am devouring, a pack of oatmeal cookies, some sliced peanut and raspberry squares, and a bobbly top gelatin chocolate cupcake. I smoother out my black hankie and smooth it out over the top of my homemade margaritaville lunchbox. I observe the people on the base line of the flower planter. I could smell the petunias and marigolds the agriculture department planted. I still wish they should’ve planted roses and chamomiles. In the midst of my happy and quiet surroundings of the patio area, no one else except Darrian walks over to me and sits down, the margarita box creating a barrier between us. He leans onto me. I saw bloodshot eyes and a reek of pot.
    “Mars, what the hell man? You have lacrosse this afternoon.”
    He shook me a warning glance.
    “Valexalsvestite, don’t tell anyone you hear me?”
    “Venus, dumbass, how many hits?”
    “Um…six maybe?”
    “You are screwed.”
    Darrian is a stepbrother I never wish I had. I remember going into his room once and I found three joints in his desk drawer. I found out his supplier was a stoner at school. I even asked him how long he had this problem, he told me when it was 5th grade summer. At least when he’s sober, he’s more focused. I’m happy about that.

    In gym class, I sit down with my friends since our coach is flirting with the other coach that has a class with us. I sit next to Violet with Rita on my left.
    “Hey I’ve been meaning to tell you guys something.”
    Me and Rita stare at her. Riley joins later from talking to some of her friends.
    “I’m getting transferred to another high school.”
    “What?”
    Violet looks at me with sad eyes.
    “On top of that, it’s in South Carolina.”
    “Man, that bites.”
    I hug Violet with all my might so that it doesn’t happen.
    “Why South Carolina?”
    “My mom is running away from my dad and she’s taking custody of me.”
    “What for?”
    “My dad became an alcoholic again. He’s been hitting her, he even raped her last night.”
    “Oh, God.”
    In the corner of her blue eyes, a single tear fell into her mouth. She wipes her eyes. We all cram around her and hug her goodbye. By the time we all said “missing you everyday”, she’s handed a pass to be signed out. I kicked and punched a metal locker.

    In Darrian's car, I stare out the window and cry. He doesn’t notice until I slam the car door with passion. I stomp to the front door. I fumble with the keys and throw my bag into the living room.
    “What’s gotten into you?”
    I stare at him.
    “Violet left, satisfied?”
    “I’m sorry about that, Venus.”
    “It’s her dad’s fault!”
    “You’ll get over it eventually.”
    “No!!”
    He places my hands to my sides. I feel his hands on my shoulders.
    “I wish-“
    “I WISH HER b*****d FATHER WAS DEAD!!”
    “Please calm-“
    “No! Never! I had a friend taken away from me!”
    “She was-“
    “YES! SHE WAS! SHE’S BEING WITH HER MOM! THAT ******** SLUT!”
    He tries to calm me down. I scream harder at the top of my lungs. Then something unexpected happened-I was crying. I didn’t want to speak to him. I wanted to get away. I wanted to hide in my room. I pulled from his grip and fled up the stairs to my room. Crying was the most stupid and embarrassing thing I’ve ever done in front of Darrian.

    Inside my room, I stare at my canopy. My temper wasn’t over yet. I hugged a pillow to keep me relaxed. I sat up and threw the pillow to my mirror. My life was never the same with a friend that moved. Me and Violet were friends since seventh grade. She was shy and silent. I remember that she was homeschooled by her mother all the way to sixth grade. When her mother got a job, it was an English teacher at my middle school. She sat in the front row, I sat next to her. We passed each other notes during lectures. In silent, we were instant friends. When I was back to normal, I floated to the office.

    Our library has media articles inside. The computer is my dads; he left it here when he was moving out. I still get e-mails from him whenever he gets free time at work. “My pride and lovely maiden” is how he always stared his letters. Then big shot moved in a year later on the same wedding date my mom got married to dad. In tow months, mom married Steven and his sidekick moved in next to my room. I had to help bring in boxes of his stuff from the truck and his car to the newly furbished bedroom. When no one was looking, I opened up the contents of three of his boxes marked: PRIVATE. I expected a lot of “Jock” garbage like trophies and magazines of women in bikinis. Instead was a collectors series of “Girls Gone Wild”, some pornography magazines maxed at 50, 13 pornographic DVDs, and sex toys. Where is his sports trophies? I thought. I searched all the boxes and found only couple of tall boxes with mountains of trophies. Somewhere in the golden jungle, was a pair of women’s underwear. I took it outside and buried it. Five hours later, I realized it was his girlfriend’s underwear when they had safe sex. She told him to keep it when he moved to my house. I couldn’t sleep for three weeks straight.

    Steven marches into the room. His eyes sullen and lowered his glasses and stared at me. I turned to look at him.
    “Yes, Steven?”
    He sighs and fumbles the glasses to his pocket and placed the newspaper onto the desk.
    “I got a call from school. They s-“
    “I was tardy okay.”
    “You were s-“
    “Detention, yeah I know. I did my class work and homework.”
    “Why were you late?”
    “Traffic. Ask Darrian because he will say the same thing.”
    I stare at the computer screen. Every time, Steven does this all the time. Maybe because he wants me to get to like him, maybe because he wants to know more about me. I stand up and walk away into the kitchen. I have to get away from Steven.

    In the kitchen, I sip my chai tea with strong spice. I grab my sketch book and I begin to draw shapes and patterns. I hum a song and lose the world I live in, to be in my world of art and escape. I know tomorrow that school will never be the same without Violet. But then again, Darrian was right about me when he said eventually I will be back to normal and move on