I couldn’t help being angry. I was always angry. And tired. Angry, and tired, and grumpy, it’s like I don’t own a single positive cell in my entire body. There was always…something.
But it didn’t matter, by this point in my life, it was all backround noise, and I could tune in and out when I felt neccessary. Someone pisses me off? I just turn up the volume of that little radio in my head. Or maybe it’s not me all the time, but the spiteful little girl who lives in my brain. She’s always up to no good.
Oh, there they are. That’s why I’m angry. They were late again. Probably stopped at some stupid ice cream parlor on the way here, or maybe he even took her to an amusement park just because he knew I was waiting. As the thoughts built up, the little girl slowly started to turn the knob around. The static was getting louder.
My gaze drifted from the subject of my disdain, to the one thing I look forward to on fridays. Cecelia. God I missed her. I missed her everytime she had to leave with the father on sunday. I never felt I had enough time to show her how much i love her.
“Hey Cece! What took you guys so long? I was here for-evah!” I picked her up and did a little spin. She laughed.
Of course it was traffic. It always was. I only lived twenty minutes out, but it always seemed like traffic got the best of them. No matter what time of day it was. And he even made me stand and wait at a bustop a little ways from my house.
“Mommy look at my new sticker!” Cecelia proudly stuck her fist in my face to parade a ‘Good Job’ sticker she must have gotten from her teacher at school that day.
“Wow girly! You make me so proud!” I kissed her cheecks furociosly and she began to laugh again, trying to push me away. “Mommy stop it!” Her laughs were like the ting-ling of bells, and the things that gave me so much life.
“Alright. That’s fine then.” David was talking now. “Listen Georgia, don’t forget about her asthma. There’s an extra inhaler in the bag,” he handed me a little brown bag,”and make sure she does her weekend homework. We don’t want a repeat of last weekend.” He looked at me darkly, his brown eyes studying us carefully.
“I know.” I looked back at him, the static starting to build up again. That horrid little girl in my head, turning that horrid little knob.
“Bye honey, be good for mommy okay? And make sure you do that homework, if you need to get to it yourself, just go through the bag, it’s in a blue folder.” He kissed her, and went back to his car, and drove away. He infuriated me so much. Hard to believe I ever had a kid with him, but the proof was in my arms.
“Alright, you ready to head out?” I asked her.
We walked from the bus stop, and it began to sprinkle a little bit. As we walked, i started thinking about David. He was such a prick, and viewed himself as some godly being above everybody else. I hated him.
As I thought about this, the little girl began to give me this sick grin from inside my head, and I stopped walking.
And she stopped turning the knob.
And I gasped in horror.
She looked like Cece.
By Alice Crown, 17, Fort Hamilton High School, USA