Status: forgot about this so might continue
Nevermind
this is not my home
I was at Karolina's. She wasn't even there. Her brother, Georgiy, said she would be home in about half an hour. Her house was pretty small with odd trinkets all around it, which suggested her parents were travellers. The house wasn't super clean but wasn't completely messy; it was comfortable. It was everything my house lacked.
I was sitting in her room, and no matter how tempted I was to take a look in her underwear drawer; I didn't. I sat on her bed and picked up the various books on her shelf. Her room was bizarre. She had scribbled all over one wall, and had a huge flower poster on another wall. I stared at the scribbles for a long time, reading every single one.
It had easily been more than half an hour, I poked around their house, and found Georgiy's room. I knocked on the door and with no reply I walked in. Of course it was empty.
"What are you doing in here?" A voice behind me said. I spun around quite quickly.
"Nothing! I just thought you were in here. Um, I'm gonna go." I blurted out. I knew Georgiy before Karolina, he was in the grade above me, and he was sort of intimidating. Not in the "Big Football Playing Guy" kind of intimidating. He was just extremely clever, he could trick anyone into believing what he was saying. He was also quite tall, and looked similar to Karolina but with prominent bone structure. Kaede had always fancied him, maybe that was what she was up to.
I briskly walked past Georgiy and searched for a pen and paper in Karolina's room. I quickly scrawled,
"where were you?
-ilya"
On a scrap piece of paper and left it on her bed.
Two days later I was sitting at the dinner table with my parents. It was quiet; like every other night. I ate my asparagus and chicken quietly. My mum talked about fabric prints and her "art." My mother thinks she is an artist; but she just strung together some pieces of paper and called it art. My dad works, some fucking job that nobody would want to do. They love each other, they love me, they love Iryna. Maybe they don't love each other, I wouldn't know. I have no idea what love is. I've never been to a wedding, never held a baby. I've only been to funerals.
I'm truly jealous of all of my friends. They at least have interesting lives full of interesting people. For example, Nick. He has three siblings, and both of his parents are police officers. Whenever I go over, it feels like a real family dinner, with stories and laughing and good food. At my house, it feels like my last supper. Every. Time.
There are family secrets; Nick has told me. Things that happened a long time ago and never got patched up, he says. I nod and listen closely, because I only listen for secrets. There's no depth with me, or my family. Thomas always complains to me about finding lube in one of his parent's drawers. Honestly, I'm just waiting for that to happen at my house. Really, any sign that they are doing anything. They don't go out on weekends. My dad, he doesn't have any friends. I'm not even fucking kidding about this. My cousins are good people; same with my uncles and aunts. They don't care about me, they're over seven-thousand kilometres anyways.
I'm not even depressed. Well, maybe I am. I wouldn't know. Let's say I'm not, because I'm not. I'm only waiting.
I was sitting in her room, and no matter how tempted I was to take a look in her underwear drawer; I didn't. I sat on her bed and picked up the various books on her shelf. Her room was bizarre. She had scribbled all over one wall, and had a huge flower poster on another wall. I stared at the scribbles for a long time, reading every single one.
It had easily been more than half an hour, I poked around their house, and found Georgiy's room. I knocked on the door and with no reply I walked in. Of course it was empty.
"What are you doing in here?" A voice behind me said. I spun around quite quickly.
"Nothing! I just thought you were in here. Um, I'm gonna go." I blurted out. I knew Georgiy before Karolina, he was in the grade above me, and he was sort of intimidating. Not in the "Big Football Playing Guy" kind of intimidating. He was just extremely clever, he could trick anyone into believing what he was saying. He was also quite tall, and looked similar to Karolina but with prominent bone structure. Kaede had always fancied him, maybe that was what she was up to.
I briskly walked past Georgiy and searched for a pen and paper in Karolina's room. I quickly scrawled,
"where were you?
-ilya"
On a scrap piece of paper and left it on her bed.
Two days later I was sitting at the dinner table with my parents. It was quiet; like every other night. I ate my asparagus and chicken quietly. My mum talked about fabric prints and her "art." My mother thinks she is an artist; but she just strung together some pieces of paper and called it art. My dad works, some fucking job that nobody would want to do. They love each other, they love me, they love Iryna. Maybe they don't love each other, I wouldn't know. I have no idea what love is. I've never been to a wedding, never held a baby. I've only been to funerals.
I'm truly jealous of all of my friends. They at least have interesting lives full of interesting people. For example, Nick. He has three siblings, and both of his parents are police officers. Whenever I go over, it feels like a real family dinner, with stories and laughing and good food. At my house, it feels like my last supper. Every. Time.
There are family secrets; Nick has told me. Things that happened a long time ago and never got patched up, he says. I nod and listen closely, because I only listen for secrets. There's no depth with me, or my family. Thomas always complains to me about finding lube in one of his parent's drawers. Honestly, I'm just waiting for that to happen at my house. Really, any sign that they are doing anything. They don't go out on weekends. My dad, he doesn't have any friends. I'm not even fucking kidding about this. My cousins are good people; same with my uncles and aunts. They don't care about me, they're over seven-thousand kilometres anyways.
I'm not even depressed. Well, maybe I am. I wouldn't know. Let's say I'm not, because I'm not. I'm only waiting.