When I'm With You

My favorite song was playing on the radio, but I couldn’t care less. I was so angry at the world nothing, not even meeting my favorite band or traveling in time to see a Beatles’ concert, could cheer me up. Not even a shopping spree with my best friend or a sweet, delicious chocolate ice cream cone. Nothing. Not even Disney Land. I was fourteen back then, and it seemed to me my world was falling apart and I couldn’t do a thing to stop it from crumbling down.

Stupid California, was the first thought that ran through my mind as my mother told us we where almost there. Stupid, stupid California, I repeated again in my head.

The day my mother told me we were moving from our lovely, small town in Maryland to the other side of the country became part of my “Worst Days of My Life” list. I know it’s a little weird, but I liked to do lists back then. They reminded me of stuff I didn’t want to forget ever. So, by then I had a few days marked on my list:

1. The day I sprain my ankle after I fell off a tree when I was five.
2. The day my hideous brother, Cody, was brought to Earth a year later.
3. The day Cody threw all of my Barbie dolls in the fireplace on Christmas morning when he was two.
4. The day Dad left my mom, Cody, and me when I was nine.
5. And that beautiful spring day my mother ruined by telling me we were moving to “sunny” California by the end of summer.

So, that was my list. It wasn’t that long, but still, some of the occasions listed affected me in such a way that it was hard to keep on going forward without thinking what I had done wrong to deserved them. Sometimes, I thought I was being punished for something I did, but I couldn’t find something I had made that was so drastic to receive such terrible punishments. Maybe past lives do exist and this is my punishment for something I did a bunch of years ago when I was someone else. Maybe not. To others the events in my list aren’t so terrible, but they are not me. Those people didn’t feel the emotions that invaded me when each of the things in my list occurred. They haven’t experienced it. They don’t know.

Where are you dad? The thought suddenly popping inside my head. What did I do wrong for you to leave us, to leave me, Dad? I miss you Dad. I really do miss-

The abrupt stop my mother made as she pressed the car’s brakes with a great force interrupted my thoughts. I quickly straighten up to see why the drastic stop. We had arrived.
“Isn’t it lovely, kids?” My mother said as she turned her head towards Cody and me on the back seat of the awful green car she decided to buy a few weeks ago, her blondish hair on a messy bun on the back of her head. “Don’t you love it? Oh, sunny California,” she said gazing at the sky, a smile spread on her face. “Oh, and did I mentioned it has an exit directly to the beach?” now she was looking at the house.

The new house was big, not as big as the house next door, which was the biggest house I’d seen in my entire life, but quite big for only the three of us. Our house was composed by a giant cube joined with an “L” shaped garage. From the street you could only see the giant square and one side of the “L”, it somehow looked nice. Simple.

“Yes, you did. Now let’s get out of this car and start unpacking before my favorite show stars,” Cody said with a look that could scare the crap out of any person and, obviously, the look was directed to me. He’s such a brat.

“Sure, baby. Anything for my baby boy,” Mom said, while blowing the little devil a kiss as he wickedly smiled at me the most evil smile I’ve seen, slowly curving upwards on his face. And that’s the main reason I hate the boy. He manipulated my mom every minute of the day, and she didn’t even realize it. It was so annoying.

Sometimes I thought my mother preferred Cody over me because he looked like her in every single way, the blondish straight hair and some kind of bluish-gray, small eyes. The round face and facial expressions were also shared between them, except for the evil smile Cody used continually. Me, on the other hand, well, I’m the spitting image of my dad, as my mom used to say when he was still around. I have a square like face, big brown eyes, slim figure, wavy brown hair, and the bad habit of biting my nails. Just like my dad. Mom used to tell me how pretty and cute I was, but since Dad left she stopped.

Other times, though, I believed she just gave him everything he wanted because he was only three years old when my dad went away and she believed that nobody in the family could be as hurt by my dad’s departure more than poor, little Cody. Now he had to grow up without a father to teach him how to ride a bike or play football. Poor, poor little Cody.
“Move it, idiot!” Cody called, pushing me aside with a big brown bag he was carrying to the house. “I’m trying to get the stuff inside our new home,” he gave the word a strong importance in the sentence. He knew how much I hated moving to California. This isn’t home.

“This isn’t home, Cody!” I yelled after him. He just turned around to laugh in an evil way and kept walking to the house. This would never be home.

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The only good thing I found likable about the house was the exit to the beach. I could just relax on the back porch while watching the sun set above the ocean waves. I also had to accept to myself that the salty smell of the ocean was becoming quite refreshing. Ok, so I began liking California a little bit more after each passing minute. It wasn’t that bad of a place. It was actually nice.

Knock, knock, the sound interrupting my thoughts. I knew it was my mother disturbing the peace of my new room.

The room I was given was actually cool. And big too, I have to add. The walls were really tall with different colors on each wall that in some way looked pretty good. I had a huge window with view to the ocean, which was something I was getting used to, the ocean, and it looked awesome, since my room was on the second floor. I also had a walk-in closet and a huge bathroom with a bath tub inside it. Still, I liked Maryland more than California. Maryland was home, California wasn’t.

“Sweetie, can I come in?” my mom said, her head peeking to the inside of my room. She was wearing some shorts and a light pink t-shirt.

“Yeah, sure. What’s up?” I said looking at her.

“Well, I just wanted you to know your brother and I are going for a walk on the beach before it gets dark. You want to join us? Maybe you’ll like it. Who knows?”

“Thanks for the invite Mom, but I think I’ll stay here. Besides, I have to finish unpacking my stuff.”

“Oh, I see,” she said in a low voice. “Well, after you finish unpacking go look for your school books in the box that’s on top of the kitchen’s island,” she said raising her voice.

School, great. Just perfect. I began hating California again. “Yes, Mother. I will look for the books,” I said annoyed, but she didn’t noticed.

“Good. I better go now before it gets dark outside,” she said, her hand on the door knob.

“Bye, Anne.”

“Bye, Mom,” I said, but she was already out the door and I could hear her quick footsteps on the wooden hallway floor.

School, perfect. I hadn’t thought about it until that moment. It wasn’t just bad enough to move here from Maryland. Great. I was going to be the new freshman girl who just came from the other side of the country and didn’t know anybody. The little Miss Nobody. Isn’t life wonderful?

I was sure Monday was going to be on my “Worst Days of My Life” list, but surprisingly it wasn’t.