Home Sick|Oscar Diaz

4.

"Bria, I'm home!" Monse yells, walking into the door.

"Welcome home, Sis." Bria yells, placing the platter on the table.

"You're infamous waffle bar." Monse says in awe. She gives her sister the side eyes as she sits. "What's wrong?"

" I just want to have a nice breakfast with my sister. Catch up on things." She said, sitting down. "How was camp?"

Monse looks at her sister for another moment before beginning to build her plate. "Good, Missed my friends."

"Especially Cesar?" Bria chimes in, taking a bite of her bacon.

Monse froze, "I don't know what you're talking about." She said, trying to dig into her plate.

"If you say so," Bria takes a sip of her tea. "But I definitely saw him leave the night before you left for camp."

Monse continued to slowly pick at her plate. "That could've been anyone walking through our yard."

Bria shrugs, "Maybe." She said.

"I'm gonna go see what the guys are up to." Monse said,  pushing herself away from the table.

Bria chuckles before finishing taking a bite of her waffles.

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No need to fix what God already put his paint brush on
Your roommate yelling, "Why you gotta take so long?"
What it's like to have a crooked smile

Bria sat in her basement room, stroking the brush against the canvas. She started the painting the day she saw Oscar. It was something to keep her mind busy and her body in the house avoiding another encounter with her favorite Santos.

She takes a puff of her joint and blows the smoke out. "Cause what's real is something that the eyes can't see," Bria recited putting the joint into her ashtray.

Bria looked at her painting and sighed. Times like this she wanted to talk to her mom. It's been a while since she even crossed her mind. As the memories flowed, anger soon followed. Bria places her paint palette on the small cart.