Saturday

This is an account of a day:
I slept until nine, I often find it hard to sleep past ten.
There are no clouds in the sky and the sun burns my skin. It’s only September. A harsh hot summer lies ahead. I’m already in shorts.

I make some pancakes for breakfast lunch. They are delicious. But they don’t help the way I feel today. I feel like shit, I feel fat, pimply, ugly and tired.

Mum thinks it’s because I’m getting my period. But from memory nothing like this has happened before. I go on the computer after I’m sick of the sunshine.

Then I am forced to go to my parents friends house for the entire afternoon. I text Adam for a majority of this time. It doesn’t help, I remain miserably bored and tired.
These holidays have been nothing special and time seems to drag on and on. How sometimes I wish to be a kid again. I could get away with a lot more.

We walk to the park and upon eating too much and drinking too much I feel sick inside. Still I drag on. Making my way to another or my parents friends houses. I here sit on the floor and drinking water randomly texting short poems, still to Adam. I fear one day this town will drive me insane.

Then I get up and w3alk down Scott street. I don’t even know why I ventured down that way the words are bugging me though. It’s only human to be curious.
“You know that road to Horsham near crossing Scott Street?”
It up the north end where the Hadleys live. I barely go any further than that road when I am walking down Scott Street. There was never no need to.
“It’s the sandstone house.”

There’s nothing up there but the Lutheran Church and I’m atheist. What possessed me to walk that way? Silly girl with too many fantasies.

It’s blue, Sandstone near the road. I didn’t stare but I noticed the motorbike out the front. I walk past trying to forget about it.

I wander back to the Hadley’s. I greet my sister here. We push each other up and down the street in the go-cart. I push her back.

We eat and I walk home. Sure there are idiots walking the streets. It’s grand final day. I avoid them. There are parties too, the loud music is a clear indicator. I don’t get invited to parties. I spend most Saturday nights at home. Crying at myself and my pathetic life.