No One Ever Truly Cares

Sudden Bursts of Anger

My parents have always been stricter then my friends'. I had chores to do on the weekends, I had to do the dishes every night, clean the bathroom and sweep twice a week. My mum had us sit and do at least an hour of homework every night, and if we didn't have homework then she had work for us to do.

If we went out, we had to let them know where we were going.

My sister has never been fond of that last one.

She took a half day at work last night, so she could have a sleep over at her friend's house, she claimed she hasn't seen her in so long because she's been busy with work. I can understand that. But she texts her, messengers their group chat, and snap chat every day. There isn't much they can't be caught up on.

That's why I wasn't surprised the next day to find out that she had gone out clubbing. Why did she feel she had to lie about it though? She didn't have to claim she was staying at her friends for a sleep over, our parents have always been easier on her.

She gets away with everything, always had. Yet she wonders why I'm so bitter about her.

I'm more annoyed that I did the dishes and swept the downstairs before I went on Facebook and saw she was tagged, once in a picture looking totally smashed while her friends look like they'd been drinking water all night, an another in a post complaining about the fact the kebab shop by the club was closed.

"Are you kidding me?" I asked my parents.

"You've seen the picture then" my mum says, and dad gives and short laugh.

"Yes. Where is she?"

"Upstairs, sleeping" dad answers me.

"Are you serious? She lied about last night. When you complained about it on Thursday night she told you she'd take a picture of them going to bed at 11 o'clock just to prove she was there. It was a bunch of shit, she wasn't at her friend's house at that time, and I doubt she even slept much there this morning. Yet she has the cheek to come home and go to bed!"

"She's probably tired" mum says.

No shit.

"Is it my fault she's tired? No. she was meant to be at a SLEEPOVER, which implies sleeping. And I was watching her snapchat and Instagram pages last night, but she purposely didn't post anything because she didn't want you to know she went out"

"Drop it okay, just drop it" dad huffs annoyed.

I haven't even started yet.

"No. because she the type of idiot who posts 6 pictures of herself while she's getting ready for a night out. And you know it" I say the last part to my mother.

She sighs, "Hailey..."

"I don't want to hear it. What I want to hear is what you're going to do to her?"

"She's 23 Hailey. We can't exactly ground her for going out with her fiends can we now", mum lets out a slow breath of air as she rubs her head. "just sit down and relax for a while then you can do the bathroom".

"I don't think so."

"Don't talk to your mother like that" dad warns, voice sharp.

"You can't be my parents and her bank. Its not fair. She has a job, yet you still fund her, she fucks up, and you shout at me."

"Because you never drop it" mum argues.

"I can't help it. It's the way I'm wired. How could you have 2 children a year apart and bring up the one very strictly and let the other one walk over you?! You should have had three kids. Maybe you'd have gotten the balance right with that one!"

"Hailey!" mum shouts.

She hates me always comparing us and our upbringing.

"Don't 'Hailey!' me. Its not fair. And I'm not doing the bloody bathroom. She can't lie to you and then come home and sleep. If I have to pay you money to do the chores, then so does she!"
"You don't pay money to do chores! You pay rent for your room and do chores because its all of our house." Mum says with a pointed glare, daring me to talk back to her.

I hold my tongue.

Ignoring the fact that I do in fact pay money for the pleasure of doing chores.

Note the sarcasm?

Good.

Even if it is our house. And we all live here. Some of our chores aren't exactly the same. Like mum, she does the washing, dad, he does the bins, and Gemma and I, we have to do the dishes, sweep, wipe down the furniture and clean the bathrooms.

So, we are in fact paying money for a room and still having to clean the house. Whereas we used to clean the house for pocket money.

Why did I ever want to grow up?

"I'm not cleaning the bathroom." I state, stand up grabbing my phone and water bottle and heading upstairs going straight to Gemma's room.

I barge into her room and find her lying on her stomach face turned towards me, sleeping peacefully. It annoys me. I've been up for an hour cleaning and she's been up here sleeping, all the while my parents knowing she had lied and letting her get her way, yet again.

I'm furious.

So, I push her.

She stirs but doesn't wake up.

I lift her duvet off the top half of her body, exposing the tiny crop top pyjama shirt she wears that looks more like a sports bra. And I hit her arm.

She moans, stirs and her eyes slowly open looking at me all confused.

"Why are you sleeping?" I ask her.

"Because I'm tired" she mumbles as her hand comes free from her duvet to rub at her eyes.

"Didn't you sleep enough at the sleep over?"

"No." Gemma says and then has a long yawn.

My hand flexes around the water bottle.

I open my phone, still on her Facebook page, on the picture of her 'and the girls' out last night and then shove it in her face. "Maybe you shouldn't have gone out drinking then." I say loudly trying not to shout.

She looks at me blankly and then does a slow blink.

My lip twitches

"Wake the fuck up" I tell her.

She continues to stare at me, so I do the only thing I can. I lift my water bottle, it's a 700ml sized bottle, and has less then 200ml in it, but as I throw it forwards and the first few drops hit her face, I'm weirdly satisfied.

She rears back like I slapped her, I guess I kind of did, with water.

"Get. Up" I tell her.

"Fuck you" she says glaring at me.

So, I splash a little more water in her face. She shouts out annoyed and throws the duvet off of her.

"Get downstairs and clean the fucking bathroom. Now!" I shout at her unable to contain myself anymore.

"God! You're so fucking pathetic!" she screams at me, pushes me out of the way and storms downstairs.

I go to my room, set the water bottle down, the water inside sloshing and go to my safe place.