Why ME?

“JEEAAANNNNIIIIIEEEEEE!!!!”

A childish shriek pierces through the song I’m currently listening happily to.

You know sometimes you just feel as though there a crazy hard rock band banging crazily on their cymbals and drums and then decide to throw a party in your head? Yeah that's exactly what's happening right now. I wonder if I’ll ever be able to hear again.

“What?” I rip my earpiece out of my ear in annoyance, glaring irritably at the little blond 5-year old girl who’s currently staring at me with wide doe-like cornflower blue eyes.

Did I mention I have a sister? Well I guess now you know. My mum randomly hooked up with some guy named Jon Something-or-the-other a few years back and tada! I have a little annoyingly cute sister who loves shrieking and running around the house on her stout little legs. Sure, little kids are all cute and chubby and extremely nice to cuddle, but still.

"MUM WANTS TO TALK TO YOUUUUUUUUUU!"

Ouch. My ears.

"Jeez sis, I know you have big lungs and all, but the last time I checked I was RIGHT IN FRONT OF YOU so there's no need to SHOUT."

"Yeah yeah whatever. Just go find mummy." Kerry rolls her eyes and crinkles her little pug nose in irritation. Sometimes I wonder if she's 5, or 15. She's seriously too mature for her age. Maybe I should bring her to a psychologist or something. They might know what to do with her. Hmmm….

"JEANNIE! GO!!!!"

"Yeah yeah sure fine WHATEVER. Jeez, no need to get all worked up, little sis. I'm going, I'm going!" I hold my arms up in mock surrender as I slowly back out of the room.

"I'M NOT LITTLE!" Kerry screams out behind me, stomping her little feet in anger.

"Sure fine whatever dearie, you're not little, because you're so tall you reach my waist when you stand on tippytoes." I throw back, descend the stairs as the door swings shut behind me.

"YOU'RE MAKING FUN OF ME AGAIN! I'M NOT LITTLE!" Kerry huffs in annoyance, and a hear a thump against the wooden door frame. If that's my pillow I'm so going to kill her later.

"Yeah sure, whatever you say sis, whatever you say." I roll my eyes as I listen to my sister throwing a hissy fit. Okay, so maybe she is five after all.

-

"Yo, whassup mum?" I plop down on the careworn beige sofa next to my mother, who currently seems to be teetering on the brink of anger.

"Why did you take so long to come down?" She demands, her tone cool and aloof.

Oh damn. She's pissed. Over what? I don't smoke, I don't drink, I don't do drugs, I don't mess around, I don't skip school, I always get perfect A's -at least, the last time I checked anyway- and I've never gotten a day of detention in my life - except for the time I got so pissed at Jessica I punched her - but that's a story for another day.

"Young missy, I'm talking to you here! Will you snap out of your ridiculous fantasies and listen? Why did you take so long to come down?" She snaps irritably.

"Kerry." I grunt out the one-worded answer, busy staring at the throbbing vein on Mum's neck. I know what's coming next.

She's going to freak out and start ranting at me for some random thing and I'll get mad at her and then we'll get into this huge fight and I'll storm off and only come back at dinnertime, then we'll glare furiously at each other for the rest of the day and then the next morning everything would be back to normal and she'll do what she does best - ignore me. And of course I'll ignore her back too, until the next "talk", that is. And then it all begins all over again.

Oh dear. That vein's on the verge of popping out of her neck. I mentally brace myself for her rant. Mum opens her rogue-covered mouth. Oh no, here we go.

"DON'T ALWAYS BLAME EVERYTHING ON YOUR LITTLE SISTER! You should have more responsibility and own up to your mistakes instead of pushing all the blame on others. And don't get me started on your manners, young lady. Is that how you always talk to your elders? In that sort of mocking tone? Do you know how rude it is? And that bored look on your face! Don't you know how to respect others? Didn't your mother ever tell you not to talk back? Is this how you treat your teachers in school as well? No wonder you got a detention. Do you know how disgraceful it is? I'm asking you a question, young lady. Don't you roll your eyes at me!"

"I. Am. Not. Rolling. My. Eyes. At. You. Mum." I'm just doing it mentally. "What were you saying again?" I've grown used to her incessant rants, and simply stared calmly back at her, even though my blood was rushing in silent fury.

"WERE YOU EVEN LISTENING TO A WORD I SAID?!" Mum bursts out in anger.

I shrug nonchalantly in reply. It's not that I wasn't listening , I've just heard that speech too many times for me to even bother to listen. Oh gee look - I CAN EVEN RECITE IT BY MEMORY! "DON'T ALWAYS (insert whatever random thing here) - exclamation mark (!) - You should have more responsibility and own up to your mistakes instead of pushing blame on others. And don't get me started on your manners, young lady. Blah blah blah and blah." See?

" - tone? Do you know how rude -"

"Mom," I interrupt, trying to stop her from yakking away again. See what I mean? Now do you still wonder why I can memorize every word she says by heart?

" - look on your face! Don't you know how to respect others? Didn't your -"

"Mom."

Seriously. If she repeats this speech ONE. MORE. TIME. I'm going to kill myself.

Don't they always have weird competitions like who can talk the longest, or say the shortest sentence or something? I really should record this rant down. Then send it into some random competition for the most irritating and repetitive Mum's speech in the world.

She'd win hands down.

Geez, if she really loves listening to her voice ranting on and on so much she should just audition for the role of singing some super-long-drama-show-on-television-that-can-take-15-years-to-finish's theme song. Then she can hear it EVERY DAY for the rest of her lives.

"- in school as well? No wonder -"

Wth? "MOM!"

"What?" Mum snaps, looking irritated at me for interrupting her oh-so-important "speech".

"YOU'VE SAID ALL THAT ALREADY!" I cry out in frustration.

"I did?" Mum blinks slowly at me, her brow wrinkling slightly in confusion.

"Yes," I sigh wearily as I smack my forehead with the palm of my hand. "By the way, what did you call me down for in the first place?"

"No NO NO! Not that! You've repeated that speech TWICE! THE OTHER ONE!" I shout as I wave my arms around frantically to emphasize my point as Mum opens her mouth wide, her lips beginning to form the word "DON'T".

"Oh. That." Comprehension dawns on Mum's face as she picks up some magazine from the oak coffee table. As it falls open, I involuntarily notice a big picture of Josh splayed over the magazine. Apparently it's a 'pull-out poster' or something.

Uh-oh.

I have a bad bad feeling about this.

------

Why in the world am I always RIGHT?

Sure enough, Mum flips to the page with that big blown-up picture of Josh, and stabs a finger lightly at his face.

"Remember him? Your old friend? The scrawny little kid you always used to play with?" Mum cocks her head slightly, waiting for my answer.

"Uh-huh…" Why is she bringing him up all of a sudden?

"Turned out quite good-looking, didn't he?" Mum's voice turns wistful and her eyes take on a far-away look. Huh? Okayyy… I nod dumbly as I sneak a peek at Josh's photo.

He's wearing a simple white dress shirt matched with a pair of dark-washed Levi's jeans and black Converses -which somehow looks really good on him - and giving that heart-warming smile that previously only shined on his friends.

Mum's wrong. Not quite - very. Not that I'll ever admit it or anything.

"I don't want you near this boy, you clear?" Mum stares at me expectantly. Huh? I blink blankly back at her. This time, Mum is the one who lets out a sigh.

" I said, I don't think Josh is good for you dear. He'll break your heart. You'll not go near to him, nor communicate with him, or even acknowledge him, understood?" What?

"But… but… Why not?" I splutter at her in shock, my mouth barely able to form coherent words.

"Children are meant to be seen, not heard. Stop asking ridiculous questions that waste everyone's time and answer me. Do. You. Understand?"

"I don't -"

"ANSWER ME!"

"YES YES FINE WHATEVER!" I burst out in frustration, my anger nearly reaching the brim.

"What kind of attitude is that, young lady?"

Oh damn.

My mum's starting to rant again. Does she have mood swings or something? One minute she's perfectly fine, and the next she becomes some tyrant.

"I asked you a simple question! Did you have to answer in that tone? Huh? Do you know how rude it is? And that bored look on your face! Don't you know how to respect others? Didn't your -"

"MUM! Can you just SHUT UP for a second?!" My control's finally burst, and before I have time to think, I'm starting to rage at her. I know I'm going to regret this later, but for now the only thing in my mind in a hazy red fog of fury.

"That's the third time you're saying that. The thirty-fifth time you've said that this year. And look! It's not even APRIL yet! So you think my manners are atrocious huh? Well TOO BAD. It's not like you raised me up much. You know who was the one who took care of me the most? JOSH. He took care of me. He made sure I always went home safe and sound. He was the one who gave me courage to move on when my world was falling apart. Not you! Not my own mother! Not even my grandparents! Heck, I DIDN'T EVEN KNOW THEM! And guess what? I STILL DON'T! No, it was a little boy barely a month older than me! And you question me on my manners? Do you know you should be honored I still call you 'Mum'? No of course you aren't! Because all you care about is you, you and YOU!"

"You don't really care about me, do you. Even the manners issue is a façade. Because if you really do, you would know that I DON'T EVEN TALK TO JOSH ANYMORE!" I took a deep breath and plunged on, paying no heed to the tears trailing down my cheeks one by one.

"I've not talked to him since last year. You tell me to stay away from him. Because he'll "break my little heart". Well, he did that a long time ago. Did you know he forgot my birthday Mum? He didn't even call to say happy birthday! Even a simple text message would have been sufficient, but no. he just plain FORGOT. But you don't know that, do you? Because you're all wrapped up in your little ignorant world that you never notice ANYTHING at all. And you know what? I don't think you ever will. Oh and by the way, you keep asking why my mother never taught me manners. Well, maybe it's because YOU'RE MY MOTHER and YOU DON'T EVEN CARE!"

I collapse back on the sofa, worn out from my outburst.

"I should go," I murmur softly. I stand up and walk out of the house, shutting the front door quietly on my mother's shocked face and walking slowly down the street.

I turn my walkman back on as I stroll aimlessly down the pathway.

Slipknot - Nope. Too hardcore.

Some (Indian?) rap song Kerry no doubt put in randomly - Nope. Too… weird. What if it turned out to be about love or something like that?

Taylor Swift - Uh-uh. Too… light.

Jonas brothers- nope. The Maine - nope. All Time Low, Boys Like Girls, Carrie Underwood - nope, nope and NOPE. Miley Cyrus… Nevada Tan… Jesse McCartney… Beyonce… eww, nah, nope and blegh. Lesley Roy - Mayybeee….

Unbeautiful starts playing as my slippers slap loudly against the stone pavement. Again.

I wonder if I have an obsession over that song or something.

Now I'm just wondering… You know some people would do anything to have a famous best-friend? Okay, maybe not best friends, but ex-best friends sorta work as well. So it's technically "some people would do anything to know someone famous whom they do not hate", but still. THE POINT IS,

Me?

I would kill to get him out of my life for good.