weekends | mgc

II - donna's revenge

"No, you know what? You know what? Fuck you. I have a seventeen year old girl to raise please and thank you!" Aunt Donna yelled into the phone as I entered the kitchen of our apartment.

"I wasn't supposed to hear that, was I?" I asked, feeling like I was intruding.

"Goodbye!" She spat into the phone and hung up, tossing it across the table she was sitting at.

I watched as the phone spun around a little in the center of our round kitchen table.

"How was school?" She sighed, her once angry expression disappeared and was replaced with a more caring and softer one.

"Good." I nodded, sitting across her at the table, dumping my schoolbag by the foot of my chair.

It would take ages to explain why I lived with my aunt in an apartment of a badly-known apartment building.

But long story short...

My parents died an elevator accident... I was six.

They plummeted ten stories down to the ground floor, the doctors told Aunt Donna that it would've been a miracle if they survived.

Aunt Donna was my mother's half-sister. It was either living with her, or the foster house for me.

I would've chosen the foster house but Aunt Donna begged to look after me and become my guardian.

She was younger than Mom, they had some features alike.

I didn't hate Aunt Donna, she was basically the only one I had left since Willow decided that whatever I did was too bad for our friendship to go on.

Aunt Donna exhaled loudly, "That was Nick." Referring the phone call she just had.

My head perked up, interested in where this was going.

"He said that, um..." She lowered her gaze down to her hands and picked at her chipped, blue nail polish, "that we were going nowhere with our relationship." She hiccuped, here come the tears...

"And that I was too difficult to handle. What the hell is that supposed to mean?" She threw her hands up in frustration and the tears fell freely down her cheeks, smearing her dark eye make up.

I stood up from my spot and walked up behind her, wrapping my arms over her shoulders and resting my head in the crook of her neck.

Most teens would be the ones crying over their failed love life. But it wasn't like that between Aunt Donna and I.

She was different, she always had her heart broken. And when I say always, I mean always.

Seriously, she could write three books about her failed love life. But I would always try and be there for her.

I loved her, she took me in when no one else wanted to.

"Nick's a prick." I whispered in her ear, letting her know I was here for her.

"Oh, I know." She sniffled, wiping her tears away with the back of her hands. "He never even treated me like how you should treat a lady." She scoffed.

"How do you wanna deal with this one?" I asked.

Aunt Donna had a history of revenge. She always liked getting back at someone for mistreating her.

She wasn't lame, throwing rolls of toilet paper over their lawn... no.

She knew what real revenge was, and she always knew how to make them regret hurting her.

If he cheated on her... she'd hide a stash of used tampons under his bed covers. Just for the hell of it. Gross and immature, but hilarious.