Hidden Girl

6- A Wasted Day

My shift went as usual, and I was just glad it was a Friday. I need a day off. At least I don't work on weekends.

But of course I get no chance to sleep in Saturday.

"Get up now. You have a lot of chores to do and I will not deal with you being lazy today and doing whatever shit you normally do."

That 'shit' just happens to be your laundry, mister.

Of course I don't dare say this out loud. That would not end well.

I nod my head and hop out of bed. I figure I'll take a shower tonight so I just change into a t-shirt and jeans.

So let's just say I just waste a whole day dusting, doing dishwasher, laundry (which consists of going to the dark creepy basement that's filled with spiders), changing all bedding, cleaning Dad's room, and vacuuming the whole apartment, which isn't actually that much.

By the end of the day I'm completely exhausted. I manage to squeeze in a shower before I collapse onto the bed and slip into a deep sleep.

I wake up and the house is freezing cold at 6 in the morning. I get up, shivering, and walk over to my dresser to get warmer clothes. I slip on a long sleeve shirt and pair of jeans. I'm still freezing so I search my room for a hoodie.

I finally spot Alex's hoodie laying on top of the dresser. I slip it on and am immediately surrounded by the smell of him. I can't help feel like this is what girlfriends feel like in the movies when the boyfriend leaves his hoodie at their house and she puts it on. It gives me a warm fuzzy feeling, knowing that someone actually cares for me, even though I know that Alex really doesn't. He just doesn't want me to get sick, because then he will probably fail this really easy project.

I lazily get up and walk to the thermostat in the hall. It's set to 70 degrees, I know immediately that the heater in the apartment building is broken.

Again.

I put some fuzzy socks on and head to the kitchen for breakfast.

Now normally we don't have a lot of food. We don't have a lot of money to start, but my dad spends his on drinks and what-not. I spend mine on canvases and paints.

We all have our addictions. Some are just safer then others.

So all in all, we rarely have a lot of food. I walk in to see that we have nothing in the fridge except milk and one eggs. How did this happen? I guess I forgot to head to the grocery store yesterday since I was so busy cleaning up the apartment.

I make scrabbled eggs with that one egg, which isn't a lot. I eat the scrabbled egg and a glass of milk, but I'm still a little hungry.

"Hey, Dad," I call out as I walk down the hall to my dad's room. I enter to see him getting ready for work, but I don't know what he does. He could be a drug dealer for all I know. "Do you have any money? I was going to go grocery shopping since we're all out of food."

"Ugh why can't you just provide for yourself for once!" he bursts out, all of the sudden getting moody at me.

"I'm sorry," I say as I back out of the room. I hate talking to him. He's just so... UGH!

I walk back to my room and lay down on my bed. I put in my headphones and blare a random song which ends up being Angel With A Shotgun by The Cab. It's one of those random songs on my iPod where I only have one of the artists songs and don't know any of their other ones. I do really love this one though.

I mouth the lyrics as he sings, a habit I have created ever since my dad yelled at me for singing like "a dying duck". His words, not mine. As you can see, my family seems to have this thing with dying ducks.

I have a dilemma on my hands. I don't have money because I've wasted it on canvases. Stupid move by me. I have to learn to save every cent. Maybe I'll try to sell the canvas with one of my paintings painted on it and actually make some money.

I can't take dad's money since I have to provide for myself.