Cry Out to Me
ilse.
I wake up in the damp, lazy morning on my unstable wooden bed. The sheets were once plain white, but age have consumed it and gave it a slight yellow color. Yet they are my place of refuge - my protection, my shelter, and the only place I can let myself be myself.
My last thoughts ring strangely through my mind. Be myself? It sounds so alien to me. I still can't even introduce myself to anybody except for my name, my age, my parents, and where I live in. My name is Ilse. I'm 14 years old. I live in run down house in this small rural area on the back of a mountain. Father works but Mother always scolds him because he comes home with very little or no money. Lately, he comes home with no money at all. We skip lunch and dinner. Sometimes I can't eat for the whole day.
The weather makes me feel like going back into my bed, but of course I can't. I have chores to do, or my mother will be very angry.
I flip over to the other side since I was facing the wall before, and slip my feet off the bed. I slowly stand on the rough, wooden floor. My room is small, and upon waking up I automatically find myself looking at the broken mirror across my room. It's strange. I always wake up feeling like I haven't slept at all. I'm sure I have more than ten hours of sleep a day. I have nothing else to do except to starve, so to ignore the starvation, I just go to sleep. Mother doesn't mind.
Besides looking sleep-deprived, I also notice that I keep cutting my hair with a knife. I don't remember doing it at all. I don't even know how I know that I used a knife, but my hair keeps getting its short, choppy hairstyle, as if I want to look like boy or something. I do sort of look like a boy. I mean, my body's feminine features don't show that much either. Maybe I am special in only one way because my hair grows shorter instead of longer.
"Good morning, Ilse."
"Oh, good morning, Louie!" I greet back.
Louie is my brother. I don't know why my parents never pay attention to him. I don't feel that I'm a spoiled child, either. My family is poor and starving, nobody is spoiled here. So I try my best to take care of my brother, although Louie always refuses my help. He says that he can take care of himself, and he really can, so I trust him.
My brother is caring and kind. I wonder how he's so strong in this kind of life. Stronger than me. That's why he always protects me and he doesn't want me to be unhappy. So I always smile, because I always remember him.
Suddenly there is a loud knock on my door. "Wake up, you stupid girl. Breakfast is ready."
"I'm awake, Mother," I reply. "I'm coming."
I step out of my room and walk right into the dining room. You see, our house only has three rooms: my parents', mine, and the living/dining room. There's nothing much in here, just a long table for cooking, an old stove, and a dining table with three chairs on it. Beside what we call the 'dining room', there is a long, old sofa. That's the living room.
Breakfast is stale bread and water. Mother says that it's the last piece we have.
I eat only a half of my slice. Father questioned this. "Why aren't you finishing that, Ilse?"
"I'm saving it for Louie."
"Louie, Louie! That boy again!" Mother exclaims in annoyance. "Do you know that there's only me, your father and you in this whole place?"
My last thoughts ring strangely through my mind. Be myself? It sounds so alien to me. I still can't even introduce myself to anybody except for my name, my age, my parents, and where I live in. My name is Ilse. I'm 14 years old. I live in run down house in this small rural area on the back of a mountain. Father works but Mother always scolds him because he comes home with very little or no money. Lately, he comes home with no money at all. We skip lunch and dinner. Sometimes I can't eat for the whole day.
The weather makes me feel like going back into my bed, but of course I can't. I have chores to do, or my mother will be very angry.
I flip over to the other side since I was facing the wall before, and slip my feet off the bed. I slowly stand on the rough, wooden floor. My room is small, and upon waking up I automatically find myself looking at the broken mirror across my room. It's strange. I always wake up feeling like I haven't slept at all. I'm sure I have more than ten hours of sleep a day. I have nothing else to do except to starve, so to ignore the starvation, I just go to sleep. Mother doesn't mind.
Besides looking sleep-deprived, I also notice that I keep cutting my hair with a knife. I don't remember doing it at all. I don't even know how I know that I used a knife, but my hair keeps getting its short, choppy hairstyle, as if I want to look like boy or something. I do sort of look like a boy. I mean, my body's feminine features don't show that much either. Maybe I am special in only one way because my hair grows shorter instead of longer.
"Good morning, Ilse."
"Oh, good morning, Louie!" I greet back.
Louie is my brother. I don't know why my parents never pay attention to him. I don't feel that I'm a spoiled child, either. My family is poor and starving, nobody is spoiled here. So I try my best to take care of my brother, although Louie always refuses my help. He says that he can take care of himself, and he really can, so I trust him.
My brother is caring and kind. I wonder how he's so strong in this kind of life. Stronger than me. That's why he always protects me and he doesn't want me to be unhappy. So I always smile, because I always remember him.
Suddenly there is a loud knock on my door. "Wake up, you stupid girl. Breakfast is ready."
"I'm awake, Mother," I reply. "I'm coming."
I step out of my room and walk right into the dining room. You see, our house only has three rooms: my parents', mine, and the living/dining room. There's nothing much in here, just a long table for cooking, an old stove, and a dining table with three chairs on it. Beside what we call the 'dining room', there is a long, old sofa. That's the living room.
Breakfast is stale bread and water. Mother says that it's the last piece we have.
I eat only a half of my slice. Father questioned this. "Why aren't you finishing that, Ilse?"
"I'm saving it for Louie."
"Louie, Louie! That boy again!" Mother exclaims in annoyance. "Do you know that there's only me, your father and you in this whole place?"