Colors//m.c

Eleven

"Who was that?" Dave is there,as soon as I get in, questioning.

"Who was what?"

"That guy. Is he the drug dude?"

"How many times do I have to tell you, he doesn't do drugs?" I am waving my arms around, probably resembling a crazy person. I wanted to go to bed. I didnt wan't anything to do with this. I didn't want to talk to him. I didn't even like him. So why wqas I talking to him? He didn't even like me.     "I'm going to bed."

"We'll talk about this in the morning." There are footsteps behind him, and Myrcella, clothed in a fuzzy pink robe, steps out. Great.

"I'll be at work."

"We didn't know you had a job." She chips in.

"Well I do." Pushing past the couple, I spin around until I'm facing the right way, towards the stairs. Taking them two at a time, I'm at the top soon enough, too angry to look down at them. I hated this. I didn't know exactly what I hated. This is general. Living here. Dave. Myrcella. Why can't they see I'm better off on my own? I could live by myself. Pay the rent. I don't need anybody. Nobody really does.

Upstairs, I'm laying on the bed, staring at the blank walls. I didn't know how long I had been staring when there was a knock on the door. It felt like hours, when in reality it was probably half an hour. At most.

The last thing I felt like, was talking to any of them. "Come in!" I yelled.

"Macey?" It was Myrcella. "Mace?"

Oh great.

"What?" I didn't even look at her.

She sits on the edge of my bed, stroking my hair, in what she probably thought was motherly.

"I've always wanted a kid. DId you know that?"

"Too bad I'm not a kid."

Silence. I always managed to say the wrong things.

"Why haven't you decorated this room yet?" She muses." If you want, we can take you tomorrow to get some things for it. Some cute lights. Pink paint. Whatever you want."

Taking a deep breath, I turned my head to look her in the eyes. She was dead serious. Hadn't I just told her I had work tomorrow. Which is what I say.

"Your dad and I were talking...." They were talking. About me. I didn't really like that. "And we thought it would be best that you quit your job. You don't need the extra money here. You don't need to worry about not having enough. Anyways, school starts soon, and we don't want your job to ruin your grades. We're going to have to try as hard a we can to have somebody accept you. With you sending in applications late."

So they thought I was worried about not having enough? Because that was not the case. I liked working.

Instead, I say "So you guys are just uprooting me from my life? To a better one? So I can go to a nice college, and never have to worry about not having enough." I say it spitefully. "I'm not going to college. I'm not exactly college material. I don't want to. Can you just go?"

"But we-"

"Just go."

It's quiet. After a minute, she stands up, and leaves, her heels tapping against the floor softly.

Why didn't I decorate my room?

And then it hit me.

I didn't want to settle here. I didn't want to settle down. This was temporary, and as soon as the fateful day arrives, the day I turn eighteen, I am gone. Forget about my mom. Forget about my dad. Forget about everything. I didn't want anything getting in my way.