"SANG!"
I felt a sense of dread and a spark of deja'vu as I slipped down the stairs.
"Yes, Mother?" I gulped and sure that my face was absolutely terrified.
"HOW DARE YOU INSULT MARIE!" She continued yelling in my face. "HOW MANY GUYS HAVE YOU SLEPT AROUND WITH?! BEING THE SLUT YOU ARE?!"
I internally sighed, of course Marie would tell her stuff that's not even true. I'm not a slut - whatever that means - like my mother has called me so many time but I still didn't know what the phases 'slept around' or 'taking pleasure' meant. I always sleep here, and I only take pleasure in eating, and I only ate here.
Mother slapped me and my face radiated pain. Can't make her think I'm not I pain. Which for some reason I'm not. I can't even feel her hits and punchs.
I pay attention to what my mother's doing and saw she's pinching me in the gut. Don't think about it. Don't think about it.
But I thought about it. And once I did, the pain came like a giant wright on my shoulders.
A hot fiery like feeling spread through my veins. Anger. How dare she hit someone not her own size?! My breathing came in short gasps and I'm pretty sure my face was red.
She kept punching me but I stayed upright. I was still standing.
She couldn't break me.
Mother seemed to realize this and stopped suddenly. "WHY AREN'T YOU DOWN?!" She screamed at me.
I thought for a second. There was no pain. Only anger. Sure my face was red, but I wasn't broken. A small smile crept up my face.
I wasn't broken.
Mother started punching me harder but I didn't feel them. With a small smile on my face, I ducked out of her line of fire.
She stumbled, shocked that I would stand up for myself. She came after me, growing punches at the air as I gracefully blocked her.
She started getting frustrated. "I SWEAR YOU LITTLE BITCH! COME HERE RIGHT NOW!"
I ignored that and continued dodging her attacks. I didn't hit her. I didn't lay a hand on her.
Instead, I grabbed a pencil from its cup and gently pressed the eraser end to the space behind her ear am lost on her neck.
She gasped, her eyes rolling back to her head and slumping backward onto the couch. She looked like she was sleeping. I nodded in pride. I had calculated correctly.
I ent back upstairs to finish my homework that I had already started before Mother had called me down.
I should feel satisfied that I had stood up to Mother like in the books.
Instead, I felt dread. And disgust at myself. I had hurt my Mother. I should have been grateful. She's right, I think. I'm a spoiled brat - whatever that means. Mother had called me that a few times. I'm not sure what it meant.
I think back to the conversation Karen, Wil and I had at lunch after I had blown off the boys.
"Okay, this extremely imporant." She said in a stage whisper.
"Yes?" Wil and I said, curious to what Karen was been planning.
"I think we're really good. So I was thinking that maybe we should get a gig."
"What's a gig?" I didn't understand.
"We play for money."
I had gasped and told them that I loved music for what it was not for money. And then Karen had explained that it was fun to make money and that she needed some cash. I had hesitantly agreed.
I glanced at the clock. It wasn't late. I creeped down the stairs and into the kitchen. I made dinner and checked on Mother.
She was sound asleep and I put a water bottle and crackers on the coffee table in front of her.
I checked the clock once again. Seeing that it was thirty minutes till six, I slipped out the back door.
When I made it to the Diner, I went in through the back door into the kitchen.
Uncle was at the stove, cooking away.
Maybe I could scare him, I thought.
Once I was right behind him, I said in a loud voice, "Hey Uncle."
He didn't jump like I had expected. Instead, he turned around with a warm smile on his face and pulled me into a hug. I stiffened but let him.
His phone suddenly rang and I pulled away from the warm fatherly embrace. I missed it already.
As he spoke on the phone, his expression grew troubled and frustrated. I immediatly wanted to know what was wrong.
He put the phone down and massaged his temples.
"Uncle? What's wrong?" The tone of my voice told him that he didn't need to tell me.
"I thought that if a band came in and played every Friday, it would be more fun for the customers. But all the bands cancel at the last minute." He explains, warily.
A mental light bulb went off. A band? Like, a gig? I grew excited. "My friends were thinking about doing a gig, I'm sure they'd love to play here."
Uncle stopped rubbing his head and looked up into my eyes. "You know a band?"
I took a deep breath. "We are the band."
Uncle's eyes crinkled at the edges as he smiled. "It would be an honor to have you and your friends play at my restaurant."
I released breath I didn't realize I was holding. "We'll do the first one free and if the customers like it, maybe e could continue?" I look up hopefully at him.
"Of course! Just please make sure that your band is free."
I nodded as a thought came to mind. "May I use your cellphone?"
He handed me his cell from his pocket and I turned it on. I thought back at Wil's lesson on how to use cellphones and dialed a number. I remembered it from memory.
They picked up at the first ring. "Hello?"
"Karen? I got us a gig."
