The Weight of These Chains

The mornings are so difficult for me. The bags under my eyes never seemed to disappear and I was not the only person who noticed this. Thankfully, it is the beginning of Summer vacation and I won't have to deal with other students sticking their noses into my business. "Where did those bruises come from, Abrielle?" "Why are you always so tired, Abrielle?" "Why are you such a freak, Abrielle?" I continually fed them the same stories. Oh, I have bruises? I didn't realize they were there. I'm so tired because I'm always answering the same damn questions. I'm a freak? Really? Wow, tell me more because I've always seen it as you being abnormal. I mean, you're bodies slightly disproportional, but hey, it happens to the best of us.

There are reasons why I am antisocial, which makes me all the more happy that I won't have to deal with the student body of North Creek High School for the next few months. The girls are all petty, the guys are all assholes, and you're either classified as popular or a total weirdo and or nerd. There is no in between.

I continued to drag myself out of bed and throw on a decent outfit along with a pair of flip flops to start off my day. After I did my makeup, and my long, dark, naturally straight hair was brushed to its fullest length, touching down to the bottom of my back, I walked out of my room and down the stairs. My foster parents, Carly and Frank, had begun cooking breakfast for the four other children in the house. "Good morning Abrielle, how did you sleep last night?" Carly asked over the sound of bacon sizzling. The kitchen smelled very intriguing.

"That's a joke." I laughed. "I can never sleep anymore." She had known this already, yet she continued to ask me almost every single morning. I took my seat at the breakfast table. She placed the plate of bacon in the middle along with a bowl of scrambled eggs and a plate of pancakes. I stared straight ahead through the windows and into the backyard, letting my mind wander for just a moment.

"Lose the attitude." Frank spat. That's funny, I was unaware that I had an attitude. I simply answered a question. I grabbed an apple from the fruit bowl and stood up, walking toward the front door. "And where do you think you're going?

"Out. I'll be back at the house later." I slammed the door behind me. I didn't realize it had been raining. I flipped the hood of my sweatshirt above my head and just walked. The road was covered in puddles and I could not seem to dodge all of them, resulting in sopping wet feet and squeaking shoes. I chucked the apple across the street and continued to walk farther into town. I finally reached my destination, and once I entered through the doors, the warmth and dryness seemed like a relief to me. I peeked down at my cellphone to catch the time. It was only about nine in the morning. I could spend an hour or two here before finding somewhere else to go.

I directed my way to the bookshelves, searching for the teen novels, mostly those written about teen suicide and life difficulties. I was not really one for the romance and vampire novels, For the most part, I liked anything but romance novels. They drove me insane. I settled on a few fiction novels before checking them out and logging into a computer. I scrolled through my Facebook news feed for a little while, updated my status, and checked my email before getting bored of this. I stood up and made my way to the door. The woman working handed me a plastic bag to place the books in. She said the rain was coming down pretty hard. And she wasn't lying.

I walked outside and in an instant, I was drenched in downpour. Thunder sounded in the distance and lightening was just beginning to light up the sky. I never really minded this weather. I just wasn't looking forward to walking back to the house in it. I picked up speed and began walking faster than I normally would down the road. "Hey! Brielle!" Somebody was yelling my name. I looked beside me at the truck, completely stopped with the window rolled down. I walked over and leaned into the passenger side.

"Yeah?" I responded, recognizing the face right away.

"Get in the truck, I'll give you a ride back home. You're going to catch a cold out here." He insisted.

"It's warm rain, I'll be fine, trust me." I could already feel the sniffling coming on. He just stared at me for a moment before putting the truck in park and waiting patiently.

"I can wait here all day, you know." He flashed me a smile. I rolled my eyes, pulled the door open, and got in the truck. "So am I taking you back home?"

"I don't have a home, Elijah." I stared straight ahead at the rain pounding against the windshield.

"You're my neighbor, Abrielle. You have a home, don't pull that shit with me. Please. I understand you don't consider them your parents because they're a foster family, but it's still your home."

"You don't get it, Eli. A house is just a house unless there is a loving family inside. The family is what makes it a home, not the structure. I don't want to go back just yet, I'm actually not entirely sure where I'd like to go, which is why I turned down the ride originally in the first place." He smiled again, something he seemed to do a lot, and put the truck in drive. He drove forward about one hundred feet before pulling over to the curb, parking the truck and turning it off.

"We can just hangout for a little while here then." He turned the key in the ignition for a split second, giving the truck a little power to play the radio. He had on a local station, playing all of "Todays latest hits!" "You look like you lost some weight." He mentioned, a slight look of concern on his face.

"Only a few pounds, but no worries, I'm not a skeleton yet." I laughed half-heatedly. "I'm still an acceptable weight for my height."

His eyes scanned me up and down for a moment. He crossed his arms over his chest and began concentrating. "Hmm. five foot three and roughly ninety five pounds. Am I correct?"

"Ninety four actually. But very close, I'm impressed." He scooted closer to me on the front seat, capable of seating three.He seemed intrigued by something. He was examining something.

"Where'd this bruise come from? The one right here on your cheek." He touched it and I flinched. A few days ago I got into a disagreement with a very high Carly and she punched me in the face and locked me in the basement for about an hour, until she finally came down from her trip. She let me out, called me a bitch a few times, and I spent the rest of the night on the roof.

I was chasing my little brother through the house and he slammed a door in my face. Is it really that noticeable?"

He smiled a little, stared down at my hand on the seat, then back at my face. "Nah" he finally said, scooting back over to the drivers seat and turning the key. "With this heavy storm coming, the ocean looks beautiful with all the crashing waves. At least I think it does. Do you want to take a ride down to the docks? We can sit in the gazebo, it will be nice."

"Okay, Eli. That sounds wonderful to me." As he drove forward through the pouring rain, drops continued to splatter against the windshield, only to be wiped away seconds later. I thought about myself. Such a small person in such a big world, who will eventually be wiped away as quick as water on a windshield.