Just Like Queens

“And where were you?!” the Devil herself screamed in the doorway.

“Out, obviously.”

Smack.

“You think you would’ve learned by now not to talk to me that way,” she whispered. “And to think that maybe one day you would see how much you hurt me,” she said even softer, grabbing her chest. Then came those waterworks. They were so fake a child would’ve laughed.

Another smack. This one harder and right in the back.

“Do I have to tell you again not to make your mother cry?” The Devil’swife husband asked.

“No sir,” I said in a sickly sweet voice.

I went into the kitchen, sloppily did the dishes, and then ran up to my room.

I went straight for my closet, and pulled out a dusty photo album. I looked at all the pictures of me and Shane since we were fifteen. It made me smile. I wanted nothing more then to be with him at that very second.

The tears silently streamed down my face.

I never cried when I was with him, I thought to myself.

I entertained myself with thoughts of where he’d be right now.

Seattle, California, Ireland…

Three places he had always admired. Seattle, because, like me, he admired the rain. California, because he had always wanted to spend his days on the beaches. Ireland, because it’s where his family was originally from, and he wanted nothing more than to show me where his mother and father were born. Oh, how he admired his parents. They were so good to him…

I sighed at the irony of it all. My parents only kept me for slave labor and for something to take out their anger at each other on. His parents had kept him simply because they loved him.

What a strange thought. The idea that parents would want to have a child for love was alien to me.

I looked down at my gray hoodie and scowled at the large coffee stain that now graced the front of it.

I changed into a pair of gray sweats, and a green tank top. Then I grabbed my laundry, a random book, and made my way to the basement.

Once there, I threw my clothes into the washing machine, sat on top of it, and looked down at the book in my hands. Twilight. My favorite, and a book that I held dear to my heart.

Oh, how I yearned for the life Bella has. She’s beautiful and has the man of her dreams. That was one of the many things I had always found I had in common with her. After waiting for so long, we both had the men we dreamed of. If I were to compare my life to hers right now though, my life would be in the New Moon stage. The only thing is, my life would never leave that stage.

I shook my head and opened the book to a random page. It was my favorite part. Bella was just telling Edward what he was, and he was astonished that she really didn’t care that he was a vampire, if that’s what he truly was.

“So I’m wrong again?” I challenged.

“That’s not what I’m referring to. ‘It doesn’t matter’!” he quoted, gritting his teeth together.

“I’m right?” I gasped.

“Does it matter?”

I giggled as I read that part. It always made me laugh, even under the worst circumstances.

The night the movie came out, I had forced Shane to wait in the line with me for three hours. In the end, it was so worth it. Even though it was Twilight, he still loved it. When I asked him why he liked it so much, he responded, “Seeing you react to everything just made the torture seem less painful,” then I playfully hit him.

So there I sat the rest of the night, entertaining myself with Twilight and memories.