ETHEREAL

CHAPTER 35

A frequent theme in Justin's barbs against me was that I was just a spoiled, selfish, and privileged brat. Damien knew that those unfounded insults bothered me, but he used them as spitefully and full of bitter rancor as Justin. The words from both of them seemed to be dripping with vitriolic, passionate hate. Both of them assume that they know what my entire life has been like, which is odd, as I have never fully detailed what I have been through, when I don't see any reason to. It is interesting that they know a bit of it, and they still think that my mother nearly dying when I was only 14, and then more near-death scares from her again throughout my entire life, causes me to be privileged? I imagine both of them, puffed up with their superior, wise enlightenment to look down upon everyone else, as if they thought themselves to be Gods. They think they know everything, but they know nothing. Nothing about me, at least.

I had hoped that Damien understood me better than anyone else and I believed in our connection, but I was woefully, deplorably and epically wrong. Did I need to list all of my life's struggles to them, in order for them to not view me as a privileged princess, in my rotting townhouse that apparently resembles a royal palace? The ironic part is that Justin complained about how his house was a million times nicer and bigger than mine. All that I could do was agree.

Has Damien always had: working air-conditioning in his house? clean water (not the murky, mustard, brownish slush with floating particles that I was instructed to boil for at least four years of my life) to drink? not to mention cars with A/C? a non-leaking dishwasher that doesn't fill up with mold and grime, to the point that it is unusable? a bathtub that doesn't send deluges of water into the kitchen that is directly below, and a shower that doesn't have a wall that is currently caving in on itself, but held up by duct tape? Has he ever had to sleep in the living room, with all of the windows open every night for three summers, and pray that the gunshots wouldn't get closer? My father slept near the sliding door, in case someone did break in. Everything in the house was covered in a thick layer of yellow pollen. I hate the color, and I despise open windows, or anywhere without air-conditioning, to this day. Did his teachers ever make fun of him for being poor, and being the only other person in his 9th grade History class of 30 students (the other was another guy - quite nice, but also hated being placed in the spotlight as a "lesson" with me) with a job? I will never forget Mr. Boorkey sneering at me as he laughed, "Your parents can't even afford to buy you sweaters to keep you warm in the winter - this is a lesson to anyone that wants to major in Sociology or Women's Studies," as he conveniently ignored that my father did major in Electrical Engineering, but all of our money went to my mom's vast hospital bills. Has he ever lost a friend, because he couldn't afford to buy a nice birthday gift? Has he ever been made fun of at a sleepover for not having PINK sweats (something that I couldn't afford until I was 25), but rather pajamas from K-Mart? My relatives sent me a lot of money, from both sides, when I was 13, and I used that $150 to buy a small Coach signature, shoulder purse - it was white with pink and red C's all over in some type of art-deco logo, with a vachetta leather bottom. I couldn't bring that bag to school anymore, because a rumor started that it was fake - how could I have afforded something like that? It was too painful to look at it and remember that, so I eventually gave it away. The walls are paper thin as all day long, I hear babies crying, dogs barking, and neighbors exercising or doing laundry or taking a piss. If my neighbors light a cigarette, the smoke infiltrates my house, as if we were smoking. It is a hellhole of despair and poverty.

Nearly every nice thing that I have ever owned I have had to claw and save my way to receive.

Damien doesn't even deserve to know me.

He is probably twisting the diamond earring in his ear as he is texting this bullshit to me. All that I have ever had are rhinestones.