Where Is Home

Sent Packing

"VDJDNKDLSNFIJNFAJFNA!!!!!"

I woke up the next morning to the deafening loud noise of my stupid alarm clock. I slapped my hand onto snooze without opening my eyes.

Oh god, I felt terrible. My head was pounding and my mouth felt like a dry bird cage. Eugh.

I slowly opened my eyes and blinked a few times until all the fuzzy outlines blurred into focused. Damn, I felt awful. I felt so groggy and the room was so bright and this darned headache wasn't going to go away anytime soon.

I stretched out in my bed, stretching my arms behind my head as a yawn that sounded similar to that of a baby dinosaur escaped my mouth.

My feet padded across the smooth white carpet of my bedroom, as I made my way to my en suite. It was 9.35 am and I figured I had better get a move on as mum wanted to "have a discussion" with me at 10 am sharp, and hell did she hate being kept a second longer than necessary and God help you if you were late!

"Punctuality is vital to maintain a happy and healthy life" my mother had always told me. Phffft...

As I entered my bathroom, I caught sight of my reflection in the floor length mirror that stood before me. A small gasp hitched in my throat as I eyed ugly reflection before me. 

The girl that  stared back at me in the mirror had bloodshot eyes and dark circles lay beneath, her usual pale skin had a ghostly white tinge to and her hair lay in a frizzy, tangled mess falling to the top of her stomach, and her red curly hair stuck out at odd angles, making it look like she just got electrocuted...the vividness of the red didn't help either.

Oh God. I looked a right mess and a half and I definitely felt it too.

 I quickly splashed my face with cold water, boy did that feel good! I proceeded to freshen up, without taking another glance at my reflection and got dressed into a baggy tshirt and joggers, I felt like crap and right now, comfort was the first thing on my agenda. 

I made my way down the stairs of our apartment, my hand running its way along the smooth wooden banister. Our apartment wasn't ginormous, but it very spacious as my mother had gone for the 'minimalist' look, and mostly everything was white. 

The apartment was stylish? yes, but I never got the feeling of home, I wasn't attached to this apartment, it was just that-an apartment. 

I made my way to the spotless kitchen, opening the fridge to get a cold glass of water to try and help this blasted head ache. Everything was too darn bright!

I couldn't remember all the events of last night, except the feeling of humiliation and anger when my mum crashed my party.... Arghhh I didn't even want to think of that right now. I had a much bigger dilemma to deal with right now, and that would be the conference with my mother.

By precisely 10 am I was seating in the dining room at the long, polished mahogany table, along with my mother, Kate Brookes (She changed her name back to Brookes after her and dad divorced, she used to be called Kate O'Hare)

Her second name wasn't the only thing that changed in my mother after she divorced dad and we moved to New York. Her whole personality changed, and the relationship between us was extremely fragile and strained. 

All my mother cared about was her work. She worked at the head of a fancy publishing company in Manhattan and therefore, never had enough time to even ask me how I was coping moving to a new city or how I was coping without my brother or my father.

I glanced up at my mother, trying to read her expression. I never cared for the consequences before so therefore I didn't care how much trouble I was in for throwing the party.