No Work On Weekends.

I plugged the small headphones into my ears and held my hands there for a minute before deciding that actually having the music on would probably help. I flicked off the hold on my iPod before shaking it violently.

"Hey Miss Sobriety, do you remember me? Or how to say my name?"

I smiled. Now I couldn't hear there bickering. It never ended. Ever.

I wished he would just move out if the house was such a 'pigsty'. If he had such a problem with it then why didn't he move out? It's probably because he doesn't pay for a thing when he's here. Again, if it's such a problem then fix it yourself. Isn't it his fault for us having so much stuff as to where 'you can't even fucking walk anywhere in the fucking house'.

A quieter song comes on and I'm forced to turn the volume up to block out my mother's howling.

They fight like four-year-olds. Why can't they just be happy for a day. Didn't they used to like each other? What changed that?

I bet i was 'those damn kids'. Apparently we 'don't do shit around here', but what does he do around here? He bitches about it being full of shit that we can't seem to get rid of, not through lack of trying though. A few weeks ago we had a garage sale. The turn-out was horrible. My mom's too afraid to use e-bay or anything, so he can just yell about it.

The song turns again. It's Skillet this time, and loud enough. I won't be able to hear anything by the time their done fighting. I'll be deaf by the time he moves out. For good.

"All the words that I said that I wouldn't say, all the promises I made that I wouldn't break..."

I sway to the rhythm from where I'm sitting cross-legged on my bed just trying to forget about all of the shit that's happening around me. I wish I never knew him. I wish that my parents hadn't gotten a divorce. Everything would be so much better if they just wouldn't have fallen out of love, or whatever you can call it.

My mom still loves him I think. She still worries about how he's building things in Iraq. She thinks that one of these days...

She gave me all of their pictures.

The song turns again. It's more than ironic this time.

"Love, love, love, love, love, love. You were everything I wanted..."

I smile anyway because it's not a bad song or anything. I take a deep breath before closing my eyes and letting myself fall backwards so my head was in the crease between the window and my bed and my legs hung awkwardly off the other end of my bed. I open my eyes and flick the blinds open a bit and watch life go on outside in the cold and slightly frosted air upside-down. Everything was sprinkled with white. You couldn't really call it snow, it was more of a frost than anything.

The song turned again. ACDC. Thunderstruck. I smile and mouth the 'words'.

"Thunder." I barely whisper. "Thunder."

Something fell downstairs. I'm not sure what it was, but my music is loud enough for me to only feel it falling. I turn the music up more. I don't them to bring it upstairs where there isn't even a full floor between us. Just a wall. And a door.

Our walls are so thin. I hate it.

The music is all that vibrates through me now. I feel numb and I'm sure that if my brother were to open the door or put his head to the thin piece of wood that's in place of part of the wall between our rooms he could here the whispers of 'Yeah, it's alright, we're doing fine...'. I dread the end of the song, because I know that it's near. Now it's just guitar and I'm sighing as a loud cymbal ends the song.

"I swear that you don't have to go. I thought we could wait for the fireworks, we could wait for the snow..."

It's q bit quieter. My mom's shrieking again. She's really upset this time. I mumble 'screw it' before hitting 'next'. It's another older song this time. "Rock You Like A Hurricane".

I'm tempted to play 'air guitar' to this one. I let my fingers twitch, but that's it. This one is definitely loud enough. That's what I get for used FrostWire though. I let the music move through me again before I close my eyes again and giggle because I'm getting that light headed feeling I'm so used to.

Playing the flute does that to you sometimes.

So does partially hanging upside down.

It also makes your fingers freeze.

I sit up. I'm not sure if doing that's too good for you. The song ends too soon. A slightly techno beat starts playing then guitars join.

"Hey Britney, why are you messing with me? Is your boy on your mind, is your boy in the car, or are you alone..."

Forever the Sickest Kids.

I shivered. We didn't have heat and it was insanely cold for early October. I only had a heavy dark green Old Navy sweatshirt, a T shirt underneath, and my jeans on to protect me from the cold. I slid off the bed and grabbed a pair of socks to slip on my feet. It didn't help much they were really thin.

The song changes again, and again, and again.

It's a Christmas song now and so much time has passed. I'm wondering if they'll ever stop fighting. I reach up to scratch my nose before sighing and heaving myself off my bed. I mouthed the words. "Don't come home for Christmas, you're the last thing I wanna see underneath the tree. Merry Christmas, I could care less." I smiled. I'd always loved the lyrics to this song.

I paused the song and I could hear my mom talking to my brother. Had he left? I walked sluggishly over to my bed before hitting play again. I crawled over my bed to the windows and searched for a beat up old red truck. Sure enough, there it was.

He must be trying to cool off in 'his' room.

He named it his even though it should have been his and my mom's. Instead my mom sleeps on the couch in the Living Room. At least she has a ton of blankets and she's comfortable. I sigh before flopping back onto my bed.

Song changed. "I tried to be one that everybody loved. Where has that gotten me? I tare myself to shreds to prove that I'm someone, that I could never be. Now these unsightly marks define me..."

I sang along quietly, it'd been so long since I've listened to this song. "So help me, please someone come quick, I think I am losin'' it. Forgive me, I inherited this from a stranger I'll never miss... I'm sick."

I sighed before pausing the music. I had to go to the bathroom, across the hall.

I wash my hands in really warm water, trying to thaw them out. It gives them this odd tingly feeling and the minute I get back to my room the practically freeze up again. I yank my sleeves down over my hands hoping it would help at least a little.

It does.

There's a small clatter. Dishes being thrown around in a sink. I was supposed to do those, but I'd decided they could wait once the two had started fighting. I'd learned to stay as far away from them as possible when that happens. I could hear someone murmur something and my brother's XBox game playing. Deer Hunting.

I sigh before letting my fingers slide from inside of my sleeves to turn my music back on. It's silent for a moment before I'm blasted with a loud voice. "I curse reflections everyday." I sang the chorus quietly again before falling silent.

I hated Saturday's. I hated almost everyday after my friend pulled away from my house, everyday after that old, red, beat up truck pulls onto the yard. I hated Sunday's. No work on the weekends.

Urg... Welcome to my life.