To Be Beautiful

The array of perfect pastel colors nearly made me vomit.

Pale yellow, salmon pink, mint green, baby blue. . .it was a tad atrocious to see these colors repetitively blur by just outside the sanctuary of cheaply tinted Mini Van windows. Don't get me wrong, I like a house with a little bit of flare to it, but not like this. This place just looked like a faded, lackluster rainbow gone awry. But then again, I suppose such a thing was Suburbia at its best.

And I should know - after all I used to live here.

"Eleanor! Don't make such a face, this place isn't that bad, after all." The chiding of a mother, who at times like this, I swore could practically read my mind, brought me out of my miserable reverie.

She was of course, right by all accounts, but I wasn't about to let her know it. Especially not when she only needed to spare me a heated glance through the rear-view mirror to assume such.

"Mom, my grandfather just died, do you really expect me to be cheerful about anything?" I ventured, doing my best to make her feel guilty for her attempt at an unwarranted scolding.

Immediately her hazel eyes went wide, increasing the size of her withering "Crow's Feet" twofold.

"Oh, Ellie, you're right - I know it's hard to deal with the death of a family member, but. . ." My mother began sympathetically, her words dieing out once she caught sight of my disgruntled father in the passenger's seat.

At her meager attempts to comfort the both of us, dad merely grunted.

"But what?" I probed, slightly curious as to what she was going to say.

"But, hopefully getting to spend quality time with your father's side of the family this summer will help. . ." She suggested, batting her long, mascara coated lashes in a hopeful manner.

And there in itself, was another reason to feel melancholy.

"Oh, that's right. . .I get to spend my Summer down here with a bunch of jerks who hate us!"
I realized with false cheer, however the sarcasm of my statement didn't have time to register with my mother as our vehicle slowed to a sturdy halt.

"Well, this is it. It's a shame we couldn't get our old house back, but this one is just as lovely. . ." Mom reasoned, ever the optimistic one.

Dad remained silent and somber within his seat as I snorted in dismay.

"Yeah right. . ."

Our old Suburban home was a soft blue that you couldn't really compare anything unpleasant to, but this new abode was ickle and pink.

It's shade would've been comparable to salmon before, but upon realizing that I was going to be stuck living in it for roughly sixfucking weeks. . .well it gives me more satisfaction to inform you that the walls of my temporary prison are cat-puke pink.

But at the very least, I wouldn't find myself next door neighbors with that blond bimbo anymore.