Broken to be Sold

Struggling

Arriving home, I hurried towards the door. The freezing rain pelted my back, turning me into a human popsicle. I yanked my keys out of my pocket, fumbling with them, before shoving them into the lock. I opened the door, dropping my backpack to the floor in a wet puddle. I removed my shoes and jacket and then made my way to the living room. I groaned when I caught my reflection in the mirror in our hallway. My damp, brown hair was plastered to my forehead and cheeks and my makeup was running down my face, making me look like I was melting. I cleaned myself up the best I could before giving up and throwing my wet, exhausted body on the couch. I pulled my school provided laptop from the floor and booted it up. I stared at the dark screen blankly until the old computer popped up with the login page. I typed in my password as quickly as my numb fingers would allow and headed to google. I typed "Local jobs" into the search bar and clicked on the first thing that came up.
        "Workers Needed at Charlotte Russe," was at the top in huge bright pink block letters. I scrolled down, looking for the pay. I finally found it a couple minutes later, it read ten dollars an hour. I could totally use this, the job I was at now only paid eight dollars an hour and if I worked both, my family and I might be better off. Not by much, but at this point, anything helps. I clicked the link for the application and began to fill it out before i heard the front door open and in came my older brother, soaked from head to toe in rain. He dropped his stuff into the pile I had created by the door and walked into the living room.
     "Hey Caden," I said as he entered the room. He let out a girlish scream before seeing me sprawled on the couch.
     "What the heck are you doing?" He asked me sternly, studying the wet spot I was leaving all over the sofa.
      "I'm looking for a job. Problem?" I said sarcastically.
"Yes, actually. You're sitting in the dark like a creeper and getting our coach all wet," he said with distaste. "Get up Brynn!"
        I closed the laptop and got heavily to my feet. I turned to look at the damage and in my place is a large shadow of water blanketing the area I was once lying in. "Oops."
     My brother just curses under his breath before grabbing a couple towels and cleaning up what he can. I follow his lead until we have towels covering one side of the couch.
     "Alright, well now that that's done," I clap my hands together, cleaning them of imaginary dust, "I'm going to my room." My brother just rolls his eyes and mutters something under his breath. I put my laptop under my arm and make it halfway up the stairs before turning back around and lean over the railing.
     "Hey Caden?"
     "Yes?"
     "Do you know when Mom and Dad are coming home?"
      Caden turns away from the kitchen counter and looks at me over his glass of water. "Probably pretty late, as per usual." I nod. I understand why they are constantly gone, but I can't help but feel a little disappointed. I want to see them like before, when they could come home early and we'd all walk down to the park and Mom would push me on the swings and Dad and Caden would toss a football back and forth. Afterwards, we'd always go get ice cream at the little parlor down the street and Caden would make fun of me for just getting vanilla. "You're so boring!" He would exclaim. I would just shrug and continue eating out of my little cup and then we'd walk back when the sun was setting and the temperature began to drop.
     "Alright," I say. I run back up the stairs and walked down the hall to my room. It was pretty small. The walls were painted a faded light green color and the ceiling was splattered with old wet spots where the roof had leaked. There was a twin sized bed pushed in one corner and a wooden desk in the other. Along with a few shelves on the walls, nothing else could really fit in my room. I threw my laptop on the bed and snatched a pair of worn, black sweatpants and an old camp shirt from my closet. As soon as I was dressed, I bounced on my bed, burying myself in the quilt, and grabbed my computer once again. I opened it to the page it was on and finished filling out my application. Then I searched the web a little longer until I was completely bored out of my mind. I rolled myself out of my bed and made my way back downstairs. Caden was at the table, his hands fisted in his hair, looking at the multitude of papers lying in front of him.
I knew they were bills. Mom and Dad were working two jobs a day and Caden had started working as soon as he turned sixteen to try and help out too, but we were still knee deep in debt and we were barely holding on. I ignored him and began bustling around the kitchen, making something to eat. "Do you want anything?"
      Caden doesn't bother looking up and just replies with a short "No," before going back to staring at the work in front of him. I sigh and finally decide to just eat a microwave dinner. Popping it into the microwave, I turn to my brother, "They're not just going to disappear, you know."
     He looks up at me and scowls, "I'm trying to figure out how we're going to pay for all this, even with my extra shifts at the store, it's not going to be enough."
     "That's why I'm applying for jobs too." I snap, "We're all helping out here and soon you'll be gone and you won't have to worry about our failing family."
     "You know I won't do that."
     "You might. You won't have to worry about not having food for next week or having to pay the water bill. You'll be completely free and Mom and Dad won't force you to stick around."
     "Did you ever think I might want to stick around?"
      "Why would you want to stay?" I scoff, "There's nothing here!" I spin around, throwing open the microwave before storming out and into the living room. I angrily yank off the plastic wrapping and shovel food into my mouth, trying not to think about how much worse our lives are going to be when Caden graduates high school at the end of this year. He won't stay, I know he won't.
     By the time I'm done with my food, I'm no longer mad. I feel doomed to spend a life on the streets and all the while knowing Caden will be happy and fed and soon he'll forget about us. And when he does remember, our house will be filled with a different family and he won't be able to find us anyway. If he even wants to. I throw my trash away and toss the fork into the sink and head back up stairs. When I get to my room, my computer is laying open on the form submitted page, but at the upper right corner, there's a button that shows I have mail from the company. I plop onto my bed before pulling the laptop towards me. I open the email and begin to read:
Ms. Weylyn,
Thank you for applying for this job! We would love to have an interview with you October 23, at 6:00 on 304 Timberland Road, Houston, Texas. Please respond back if you got this message or call (222) 321-1234.
Sam Bedfort
Assistant Manager of Charlotte Russe
     Thrilled I typed back a quick, and what I hoped was a professional, message back. Moving away from the computer, I open my closet, trying to decide what to wear for my interview tomorrow. After about an hour of hair pulling and frustration, I finally scratched up something that didn't consist of jeans and a tee shirt. When I was all ready for bed, I happily cocooned myself in the blankets and when I felt sleep closing in, I drifted off with a smile still pasted on my face.