Loki
x
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- Years
- Seen Nov 18, 2024
Hahaha, I put this like everywhere, but I like the story to it, so here it goes!
Ren belongs to SilverMoon_Dragon and Jin belongs to my bro Asher
-----------------------------------------
Chapter 1: Wishes
"We've dispatched the flyers." An indigo haired man with piercing red eyes said, kneeling before a shadowed figure. His short hair was messy and tousled, in a very handsome way, his red eyes seeming to see everything all at once.
"Good. How?" The figure asked with mock interest, the raspy voice concealing his true age.
"By Delibird. Fashir decided that something cute would be easier to convince them to sign. We've got our targets watched, and the operation rooms prepped. Unique flyers were given to the targets." He replied, lowering his head politely, so as to show the man before him that he didn't question his power.
"Wonderful." A silver tooth shone from the shadowy figure's yellowing teeth as his lips curled into a sinister grin "You may leave."
The kneeling man stood up, revealing his attire to be of a plain white button up polo underneath a tan jacket with a black collar. The black pants the man wore were crisp and professional, along with the dress shoes hidden mostly underneath them. He seemed to melt into the floor, feet first, before there wasn't a trace of the man ever being in the room.
"Perfect…" Alone now, the head honcho laced his fingers together in front of his twisted smile, elbows resting upon the arms of his comfortable black leather chair, "Soon enough, this will be the rise of a new era..for Team Rocket!"
~ + ~ + ~ + ~ + ~
I had been watching TV for the past few hours, and it was getting quite late. With nothing interesting on the little black box, and nothing to do as an average teen in the pokemon world, I was getting more bored by the minute. More and more tired of my repetitive life. Sinking lower on my family's black leather couch and paying no attention when the leather underneath me made a funny sound, that my younger brown haired brother promptly laughed at, I sighed, turning the channel to the late night news by pressing the little triangular button on the remote.
It was jammering on about some stolen ultraballs at the pokemart in Fuschia, how some people were accusing Koga, and Janine for the work because it looked stealthy and ninja like. It was so unlikely, that I would've bet my entire college savings on it. Except, there wasn't anything in that piggy bank anyway, so I didn't have anything to lose.
Others were arguing that it could've been one of the many trainee's in the gym, since they were also training in the art of ninja-hood or something like that, but it wasn't very interesting to me, personally. Maybe if I had been a trainer, I'd have my face glued to the screen in worry for Koga and Janine, but as Fate would have it, I wasn't a trainer, and I could care less about their fates. The program fizzled out and Officer Jenny's serious and exhausted face showed up. I lazily gave her a portion of my attention.
"Do not sign the Team Rocket flyers that are being passed from mailbox to mailbox! They are fraud, they are dangerous, and are nothing but trouble!" Officer Jenny lectured on the TV screen. She continued to lecture about the flyers, but, she'd already lost my wandering attention.
"Team Rocket's at it again aren't they?" My mom asked from the kitchen, and my younger brother piped up his answer, confirming her suspicions, though once hearing his voice she forgot all about what had been on the television, screeching, "Why aren't you in bed yet young man?!"
Sighing, I pulled myself up from the couch before she freaked out, and told my mom that I would put him to bed, barely hearing her thank me as I picked up Kevan in my arms. Dragging myself and the little deadweight up the stairs, Kevan grabbed a portion of my T-shirt in his little hand.
"I don't want to go to bed." He whined at me, though he didn't protest and pound his fists against my shoulder as I climbed up the stairs, as would've been expected from a toddler his age..
"I know you don't, just read or play quietly- make sure to pretend to be sleeping if you hear mom's feet on the stairs." I said, grinning at Kevan as he laughed and gave me a thumbs up. Annoying, yet cute…sometimes. I wasn't the best rolemodel, in fact, I was probably the worst, but he seemed to like me better then most brothers liked their sisters. And that he was very mature for his age, constantly thinking about growing up to be a tought pokemon trainer- the kind on TV.
Tucking him into his pikachu themed bed and giving him a light kiss on the forehead I returned to the door. I gave him a wink before turning off the lights, the glow from the lunatone nightlight becoming Kevan's only hero from his fear of the dark. Closing the door as quietly as I could, I decided that I would also prepare for bed. There wasn't anything else to do anyway.
Shuffling my feet toward my bedroom, and suddenly feeling very exhausted from being so bored all day, I yawned.
Pulling at my slightly jammed bedroom door before it finally gave way, I tugged the black hairband from my long blonde hair and tossed it onto my bed, onto the ugly yellow bedspread, that was tangled from my attempt to get out of bed earlier in the day. Picking up a rather cheap black brush I'd bought myself awhile back, I dragged it through my hair, getting rid of the ugly bump from the ponytail as best I could
No such luck. I ran my fingers through my hair and discarded the brush on my white metal vanity. Tugging at a knot in my hair I'd caught with my fingers, I paused to change out of my plain blue jeans and oversized black T-shirt, into a pair of red sleeping pants and a white tank top. Tossing myself lazily upon the bed I sighed and groaned. My life couldn't get any more boring then it already was. But, it couldn't be helped, I had opted not to become a trainer- it was my fault either way.
At the age of nineteen I was bored, and useless everyday. But, I suppose, I had chose to be this way. Training never appealed to me. College wasn't an option for me, as someone needed to be home until Kevan was ten, so someone could pick him up from school, and the like. Over the course of time, family had somehow become my top priority, or at least, my Mom's top priority that I carried out for her.
I stared at my reflection in the mirror, my brown eyes watching Goosebumps erect themselves on my arms. I hated cold. I hated hot. I was a room temperature girl, so I slid under my blankets.
One thing I could do right, was running. I could run like the wind- ditch the rest of my family in mere seconds, and running was just the best for me. It felt like I was running far away from my problems. I didn't feel like a coward each time I ran away from things I should've sorted out, because I told myself that I was simply procrastinating.
In the end, I never did those procrastinated things, someone else did them.
And that made me feel slightly worse about myself as well. I held a too-good-for-you kind of air, and since I'd lived in the same neighborhood my entire life, I never had a chance to patch it up, to start over or anything like that. There was a reason I didn't have any friends my age.
I hated change, and anything that wasn't normal, so I never really tried to have friends, or change my attitude either way.
Turning over to go to sleep, I wished I could finally do something with my life other then be the built in babysitter for a family that would never let me leave.
~ + ~ + ~ + ~ + ~
"Ew." That was all I could say as I found an old roll of bread under my couch, "How long has that been there?"
I was disorganized, that's what everyone around always said. 'He threw his life away after he ran away from home!'. That was my rumor, the rumor that someone had started for me. Ran away my ***. Why would I have a reason to run away from a family? That would help support me no less. And when I really thought about it, I wasn't disorganized, I was just forgetful. I knew that the bread had been there for a week, I just always forgot to throw it away before another issue arose.
My apartment wasn't cozy, that would be exaggeration, but it was better then nothing.
What happened to my family you ask? Heck, I don't know. It fell apart five years ago, when I was fourteen, after my brother got mangled in a motorcycle accident. He can't walk anymore, and he's got some brain damage. My Dad has always had trouble accepting disabled people, so my parents got into huge arguments over my older brother everyday, until my Dad just up and left. Leaving my Mom to support two boys, one who needed to go to college and the other that needed 24/7 surveillance.
I couldn't stand being around them anyway. So I left too. I was just a burden either way, and my mom said that it was time for me to learn to live on my own anyway.
So basically, I'd gotten kicked out of my family that was already falling to pieces anyway.
No hard feelings, right?
I scoffed at my own thoughts, and I ran a hand through my dark brown hair that had a slight tint of olive to it, confused at what more I needed to do. I had finally decided to clean up my apartment and it looked like a new place.
"Jin ah,- Oh mah god!" My strange Dewford accented landlord burst inside and said, "Found yerself a girl finally?" She smirked at me and said, "Well, remember, compliment har on har clothes! And drop off your rent money in mah mailbox." The door slammed shut, leaving me standing there in confusion.
What girl?
I suppose cleaning my apartment for the first time in months was a sign for that crazy woman. And the fact that I'd been leaving the apartment building more often lately. That was just because I'd been thinking about what my life was missing more and more. And so I usually found myself standing in front of my mom's apartment door, wondering if I should really visit her or not.
I always decided against it. I would be embarrassed out of my mind if she saw my tattoo, the one that had been needled over my left eye- the red one.
And I'd be embarrassed when she fussed over my oversized reddish brown T-shirt with white Chinese letter print on it, my dark cargo pants that scrunched at the bottom, but were otherwise straight all the way down.
She would insist on cutting my long hair that was starting to spike downward due to their length.
I thought of this everytime I stood in front of her apartment door, and what made things worse was that in the end, I never really went through with it.
Last time, I'd accidentally run into her manager, and he had exclaimed, "Is that you Jin? I remember you! Last I saw you you were just a tyke!"
I had asked him where my mom and brother were, and he put on a sort of pitying face, "You don't know Jin? Your Ma died a year back and your brother went to a foster family."
The words hit me like cold hard steel, but I kept my face straight and nodded, thanking him for informing me.
"You don't care?" He had asked me, referring to my unaffected face.
I had already started down the stairs, before replying, "I guess they never really were my family after I left, so, no not really." I knew he was gaping at my bluntness, my indifference, and my uncaring attitude toward the death of people that many would've cried for eons over.
I left, and planned never to come back, cleaning up my apartment and deciding to start on a new slate. Changing most everything except the way I looked, I was satisfied, for the moment. I would be the boy with no family.
~ + ~ + ~ + ~ + ~
"Ren? Ren dear?"
"Mmf." I turned my head the other way, and the voice laughed, shaking my shoulder lightly to wake me up.
"Had a rough day honey?" Charlotte, my personal maid asked me, as she peeled my textbooks from under my head and marked the page, closing the books while helping me to my feet. I was exhausted from a day of nothing but studying.
Charlotte was perhaps the nicest maid I could ever ask for. She was nice, caring, she understood me, and knew exactly what I needed every time I didn't know myself.
"Get some rest," The white haired woman said kindly. I'd known her most of my life, and she was starting to get old. It was kind of depressing, but I didn't let it bother me too much, because Charlotte's health was fine, no reason to worry.
Charlotte busied herself with readying my bed while I peeled off my school uniform. An off-blue jacket that buttoned on the far left. A thin, dangling chain on the middle of my chest that was accompanied by another chain, slightly longer then a first. Underneath the chains was my school emblem, a round black circle surrounded by a light blue circle. Simple, and boring in general, except for the longer then average tail of the coat.
The jacket was drawn back slightly after the buttons ended to reveal part of my synthetic black turtleneck shirt and all of the black uniform pants that wasn't covered by my shirt.
It was ridiculously complicated for a school uniform, and it was a common joke around the school. At least, the jacket was.
Falling into the plush mattress after changing into more comfortable clothes, I sighed in relief, thankful my studying session was finally over.
Pulling the heavy maroon covers over me as she sat down on a chair near the side of my bed. I felt like a patient in a hospital, as she asked me what story I wanted read to me.
"I'm nineteen Charlotte." I pointed out to her, and she chuckled.
"It's better then text books." She replied, and I couldn't deny it. College was terrible, hard, and just a heavy burden. Heavier then the books. Rich, Straight A's, and aloof. I was probably the most sought after guy in school. All the girls tried to catch my attention, not to mention I got numerous love notes that pointed out my 'best' features.
Emerald eyes that pierced everything they saw, jet black hair without a single blemish, smooth blemish free skin that a girl would wish for…Great personality popped up every now and then, the only problem with that was that I'd never even spoken to half these girls.
I rejected every single one of them.
I don't know why, but they still kept coming, convinced that the second or third time around I'd be knocked to my senses and finally say yes. I would never understand girls, that was what I had said to myself after the president of some crazy debate club asked me out for the 10th time. She was counting. That made me extremely wary of her.
It wasn't her that made me wary, it was her knowledge. She knew everything about me. How I stayed up late every night just studying for anything, how many girl's I'd rejected since the start of middle school, my grade point average since high school, and every one of my old friends, how long we'd been friends, how our friendship ended, or any useless information like that.
She knew more about me then I did, and that was just plain freaky.
I couldn't say the same about me to her though, I could barely remember her name. Lay…no…Kay…that wasn't it either…well, I just could never remember it.
"The Ugly Duckling!" Charlotte announced, pulling a book out of her apron as I sweatdropped, "That was one of my favorite classics." She opened the book and took a deep breath.
I pretended to sleep as soon as I could, hoping that Charlotte would stop reading that child's book.
I tried to drown out Charlotte's words with my own thoughts. The subject I laid rest to certainly did the job, though it made me all the more uncomfortable. I looked up to the calender on the headpeice of my grand bed. It had red x's over all of the squares, for at least four consecutive pages worth of months.
Red meant days gone by without seeing my parents.
Blue meant days that I'd gotten a glimsp of my parents.
Green meant days that I'd actually said something to my parents.
There weren't very many blue x's, and there weren't any green x's in this years calender. There was perhaps a week's worth of blue, and the rest were red.
What was the use of having a family when you never knew where they were? What they were doing? When they would come back? The next time you would be able to have an actual conversation with them?
No less, a family who didn't remember you were in their family. I remember hearing my mom ask Charlotte one time, "Why does part of our account disappear so quickly every month?"
She had replied, "You have a son in college, remember?"
Ren belongs to SilverMoon_Dragon and Jin belongs to my bro Asher
-----------------------------------------
Chapter 1: Wishes
"We've dispatched the flyers." An indigo haired man with piercing red eyes said, kneeling before a shadowed figure. His short hair was messy and tousled, in a very handsome way, his red eyes seeming to see everything all at once.
"Good. How?" The figure asked with mock interest, the raspy voice concealing his true age.
"By Delibird. Fashir decided that something cute would be easier to convince them to sign. We've got our targets watched, and the operation rooms prepped. Unique flyers were given to the targets." He replied, lowering his head politely, so as to show the man before him that he didn't question his power.
"Wonderful." A silver tooth shone from the shadowy figure's yellowing teeth as his lips curled into a sinister grin "You may leave."
The kneeling man stood up, revealing his attire to be of a plain white button up polo underneath a tan jacket with a black collar. The black pants the man wore were crisp and professional, along with the dress shoes hidden mostly underneath them. He seemed to melt into the floor, feet first, before there wasn't a trace of the man ever being in the room.
"Perfect…" Alone now, the head honcho laced his fingers together in front of his twisted smile, elbows resting upon the arms of his comfortable black leather chair, "Soon enough, this will be the rise of a new era..for Team Rocket!"
~ + ~ + ~ + ~ + ~
I had been watching TV for the past few hours, and it was getting quite late. With nothing interesting on the little black box, and nothing to do as an average teen in the pokemon world, I was getting more bored by the minute. More and more tired of my repetitive life. Sinking lower on my family's black leather couch and paying no attention when the leather underneath me made a funny sound, that my younger brown haired brother promptly laughed at, I sighed, turning the channel to the late night news by pressing the little triangular button on the remote.
It was jammering on about some stolen ultraballs at the pokemart in Fuschia, how some people were accusing Koga, and Janine for the work because it looked stealthy and ninja like. It was so unlikely, that I would've bet my entire college savings on it. Except, there wasn't anything in that piggy bank anyway, so I didn't have anything to lose.
Others were arguing that it could've been one of the many trainee's in the gym, since they were also training in the art of ninja-hood or something like that, but it wasn't very interesting to me, personally. Maybe if I had been a trainer, I'd have my face glued to the screen in worry for Koga and Janine, but as Fate would have it, I wasn't a trainer, and I could care less about their fates. The program fizzled out and Officer Jenny's serious and exhausted face showed up. I lazily gave her a portion of my attention.
"Do not sign the Team Rocket flyers that are being passed from mailbox to mailbox! They are fraud, they are dangerous, and are nothing but trouble!" Officer Jenny lectured on the TV screen. She continued to lecture about the flyers, but, she'd already lost my wandering attention.
"Team Rocket's at it again aren't they?" My mom asked from the kitchen, and my younger brother piped up his answer, confirming her suspicions, though once hearing his voice she forgot all about what had been on the television, screeching, "Why aren't you in bed yet young man?!"
Sighing, I pulled myself up from the couch before she freaked out, and told my mom that I would put him to bed, barely hearing her thank me as I picked up Kevan in my arms. Dragging myself and the little deadweight up the stairs, Kevan grabbed a portion of my T-shirt in his little hand.
"I don't want to go to bed." He whined at me, though he didn't protest and pound his fists against my shoulder as I climbed up the stairs, as would've been expected from a toddler his age..
"I know you don't, just read or play quietly- make sure to pretend to be sleeping if you hear mom's feet on the stairs." I said, grinning at Kevan as he laughed and gave me a thumbs up. Annoying, yet cute…sometimes. I wasn't the best rolemodel, in fact, I was probably the worst, but he seemed to like me better then most brothers liked their sisters. And that he was very mature for his age, constantly thinking about growing up to be a tought pokemon trainer- the kind on TV.
Tucking him into his pikachu themed bed and giving him a light kiss on the forehead I returned to the door. I gave him a wink before turning off the lights, the glow from the lunatone nightlight becoming Kevan's only hero from his fear of the dark. Closing the door as quietly as I could, I decided that I would also prepare for bed. There wasn't anything else to do anyway.
Shuffling my feet toward my bedroom, and suddenly feeling very exhausted from being so bored all day, I yawned.
Pulling at my slightly jammed bedroom door before it finally gave way, I tugged the black hairband from my long blonde hair and tossed it onto my bed, onto the ugly yellow bedspread, that was tangled from my attempt to get out of bed earlier in the day. Picking up a rather cheap black brush I'd bought myself awhile back, I dragged it through my hair, getting rid of the ugly bump from the ponytail as best I could
No such luck. I ran my fingers through my hair and discarded the brush on my white metal vanity. Tugging at a knot in my hair I'd caught with my fingers, I paused to change out of my plain blue jeans and oversized black T-shirt, into a pair of red sleeping pants and a white tank top. Tossing myself lazily upon the bed I sighed and groaned. My life couldn't get any more boring then it already was. But, it couldn't be helped, I had opted not to become a trainer- it was my fault either way.
At the age of nineteen I was bored, and useless everyday. But, I suppose, I had chose to be this way. Training never appealed to me. College wasn't an option for me, as someone needed to be home until Kevan was ten, so someone could pick him up from school, and the like. Over the course of time, family had somehow become my top priority, or at least, my Mom's top priority that I carried out for her.
I stared at my reflection in the mirror, my brown eyes watching Goosebumps erect themselves on my arms. I hated cold. I hated hot. I was a room temperature girl, so I slid under my blankets.
One thing I could do right, was running. I could run like the wind- ditch the rest of my family in mere seconds, and running was just the best for me. It felt like I was running far away from my problems. I didn't feel like a coward each time I ran away from things I should've sorted out, because I told myself that I was simply procrastinating.
In the end, I never did those procrastinated things, someone else did them.
And that made me feel slightly worse about myself as well. I held a too-good-for-you kind of air, and since I'd lived in the same neighborhood my entire life, I never had a chance to patch it up, to start over or anything like that. There was a reason I didn't have any friends my age.
I hated change, and anything that wasn't normal, so I never really tried to have friends, or change my attitude either way.
Turning over to go to sleep, I wished I could finally do something with my life other then be the built in babysitter for a family that would never let me leave.
~ + ~ + ~ + ~ + ~
"Ew." That was all I could say as I found an old roll of bread under my couch, "How long has that been there?"
I was disorganized, that's what everyone around always said. 'He threw his life away after he ran away from home!'. That was my rumor, the rumor that someone had started for me. Ran away my ***. Why would I have a reason to run away from a family? That would help support me no less. And when I really thought about it, I wasn't disorganized, I was just forgetful. I knew that the bread had been there for a week, I just always forgot to throw it away before another issue arose.
My apartment wasn't cozy, that would be exaggeration, but it was better then nothing.
What happened to my family you ask? Heck, I don't know. It fell apart five years ago, when I was fourteen, after my brother got mangled in a motorcycle accident. He can't walk anymore, and he's got some brain damage. My Dad has always had trouble accepting disabled people, so my parents got into huge arguments over my older brother everyday, until my Dad just up and left. Leaving my Mom to support two boys, one who needed to go to college and the other that needed 24/7 surveillance.
I couldn't stand being around them anyway. So I left too. I was just a burden either way, and my mom said that it was time for me to learn to live on my own anyway.
So basically, I'd gotten kicked out of my family that was already falling to pieces anyway.
No hard feelings, right?
I scoffed at my own thoughts, and I ran a hand through my dark brown hair that had a slight tint of olive to it, confused at what more I needed to do. I had finally decided to clean up my apartment and it looked like a new place.
"Jin ah,- Oh mah god!" My strange Dewford accented landlord burst inside and said, "Found yerself a girl finally?" She smirked at me and said, "Well, remember, compliment har on har clothes! And drop off your rent money in mah mailbox." The door slammed shut, leaving me standing there in confusion.
What girl?
I suppose cleaning my apartment for the first time in months was a sign for that crazy woman. And the fact that I'd been leaving the apartment building more often lately. That was just because I'd been thinking about what my life was missing more and more. And so I usually found myself standing in front of my mom's apartment door, wondering if I should really visit her or not.
I always decided against it. I would be embarrassed out of my mind if she saw my tattoo, the one that had been needled over my left eye- the red one.
And I'd be embarrassed when she fussed over my oversized reddish brown T-shirt with white Chinese letter print on it, my dark cargo pants that scrunched at the bottom, but were otherwise straight all the way down.
She would insist on cutting my long hair that was starting to spike downward due to their length.
I thought of this everytime I stood in front of her apartment door, and what made things worse was that in the end, I never really went through with it.
Last time, I'd accidentally run into her manager, and he had exclaimed, "Is that you Jin? I remember you! Last I saw you you were just a tyke!"
I had asked him where my mom and brother were, and he put on a sort of pitying face, "You don't know Jin? Your Ma died a year back and your brother went to a foster family."
The words hit me like cold hard steel, but I kept my face straight and nodded, thanking him for informing me.
"You don't care?" He had asked me, referring to my unaffected face.
I had already started down the stairs, before replying, "I guess they never really were my family after I left, so, no not really." I knew he was gaping at my bluntness, my indifference, and my uncaring attitude toward the death of people that many would've cried for eons over.
I left, and planned never to come back, cleaning up my apartment and deciding to start on a new slate. Changing most everything except the way I looked, I was satisfied, for the moment. I would be the boy with no family.
~ + ~ + ~ + ~ + ~
"Ren? Ren dear?"
"Mmf." I turned my head the other way, and the voice laughed, shaking my shoulder lightly to wake me up.
"Had a rough day honey?" Charlotte, my personal maid asked me, as she peeled my textbooks from under my head and marked the page, closing the books while helping me to my feet. I was exhausted from a day of nothing but studying.
Charlotte was perhaps the nicest maid I could ever ask for. She was nice, caring, she understood me, and knew exactly what I needed every time I didn't know myself.
"Get some rest," The white haired woman said kindly. I'd known her most of my life, and she was starting to get old. It was kind of depressing, but I didn't let it bother me too much, because Charlotte's health was fine, no reason to worry.
Charlotte busied herself with readying my bed while I peeled off my school uniform. An off-blue jacket that buttoned on the far left. A thin, dangling chain on the middle of my chest that was accompanied by another chain, slightly longer then a first. Underneath the chains was my school emblem, a round black circle surrounded by a light blue circle. Simple, and boring in general, except for the longer then average tail of the coat.
The jacket was drawn back slightly after the buttons ended to reveal part of my synthetic black turtleneck shirt and all of the black uniform pants that wasn't covered by my shirt.
It was ridiculously complicated for a school uniform, and it was a common joke around the school. At least, the jacket was.
Falling into the plush mattress after changing into more comfortable clothes, I sighed in relief, thankful my studying session was finally over.
Pulling the heavy maroon covers over me as she sat down on a chair near the side of my bed. I felt like a patient in a hospital, as she asked me what story I wanted read to me.
"I'm nineteen Charlotte." I pointed out to her, and she chuckled.
"It's better then text books." She replied, and I couldn't deny it. College was terrible, hard, and just a heavy burden. Heavier then the books. Rich, Straight A's, and aloof. I was probably the most sought after guy in school. All the girls tried to catch my attention, not to mention I got numerous love notes that pointed out my 'best' features.
Emerald eyes that pierced everything they saw, jet black hair without a single blemish, smooth blemish free skin that a girl would wish for…Great personality popped up every now and then, the only problem with that was that I'd never even spoken to half these girls.
I rejected every single one of them.
I don't know why, but they still kept coming, convinced that the second or third time around I'd be knocked to my senses and finally say yes. I would never understand girls, that was what I had said to myself after the president of some crazy debate club asked me out for the 10th time. She was counting. That made me extremely wary of her.
It wasn't her that made me wary, it was her knowledge. She knew everything about me. How I stayed up late every night just studying for anything, how many girl's I'd rejected since the start of middle school, my grade point average since high school, and every one of my old friends, how long we'd been friends, how our friendship ended, or any useless information like that.
She knew more about me then I did, and that was just plain freaky.
I couldn't say the same about me to her though, I could barely remember her name. Lay…no…Kay…that wasn't it either…well, I just could never remember it.
"The Ugly Duckling!" Charlotte announced, pulling a book out of her apron as I sweatdropped, "That was one of my favorite classics." She opened the book and took a deep breath.
I pretended to sleep as soon as I could, hoping that Charlotte would stop reading that child's book.
I tried to drown out Charlotte's words with my own thoughts. The subject I laid rest to certainly did the job, though it made me all the more uncomfortable. I looked up to the calender on the headpeice of my grand bed. It had red x's over all of the squares, for at least four consecutive pages worth of months.
Red meant days gone by without seeing my parents.
Blue meant days that I'd gotten a glimsp of my parents.
Green meant days that I'd actually said something to my parents.
There weren't very many blue x's, and there weren't any green x's in this years calender. There was perhaps a week's worth of blue, and the rest were red.
What was the use of having a family when you never knew where they were? What they were doing? When they would come back? The next time you would be able to have an actual conversation with them?
No less, a family who didn't remember you were in their family. I remember hearing my mom ask Charlotte one time, "Why does part of our account disappear so quickly every month?"
She had replied, "You have a son in college, remember?"