My Brother's Best Friend

chapter 2

Natalia

The music is blasting, so I know he's home, and in the mood to party. The music has been loud every day this week.

They are partying more.

I understand why Blake decided to leave. As angry as I feel, I do not blame him.

I can't wait until I can leave, too.

I know I won't be able to sleep tonight, and I really have to pee.

I move the bookshelf just enough so I can sneak down the hall.

I just hope I don't run into either of them.

I really don't feel like dealing with David today.

I open my door a bit and peak out.

I don't see anybody, so I tiptoe down the hallway.

From the small window on the kitchen wall I see my mom with a bunch of men in the living room.

I see some drinking, some are smoking, some are snorting that powder. I see needles and containers littered all over the place. I see my brother's mattress on the floor next to the couch. One man is attempting to sing, and his dancing catches my attention. He is only wearing a pair of black sweatpants. He moves up and down, and is trying to hug himself. It's just so awkward. He looks so sweaty. They all do.

There is so much going on in 1 room, but one thing I can tell for sure is that they are all or most on some kind of drug.

There's just this smell it gives off.

Like some kind of chemicals, maybe cleaning supplies?

I hate that smell.

They are loud and busy, so it's a bit easier to become invisible.

I get on the floor and crawl across, so I don't draw any attention to myself.

I don't waste time. I relieve myself quickly. I don't even flush, feeling too afraid to make any noise.

I crawl back across and stand up once I made it safely into the kitchen.

I take one last peak.

I watch my mom, who is now dancing around in the room. I guess these are the effects of drugs. They all seem to like dancing awkwardly.

"Take it off, b1tch. S*ck my d**k and let us run this train on you already, you f*ck1ng wh0re," David tells her.

I watch my mom pull her dress off and drop to her knees in front of David.

Everything turns blurry for some reason. It isn't until I feel the tears on my face that I realize that I am silently crying.

Why does she do this?

I know that drug addicts are just sick people, but why does it have to be happening to my mom?

Why can't I have a normal mom who loves and takes care of me? One who doesn't lower herself like this?

I have researched how to help her, and the only option is rehab, but she would never agree to that.

I can't even look at her without her telling me I am judging her and to mind my business, that she is young and just having fun, so there really is no point in even bringing it up to her.

Feeling sad and hopeless, I turn around and freeze.

There's a man standing next to me staring, like he expects something from me.

"You are so pretty. You look like her, but with nicer hair, you are younger, and you don't smell bad. Want to have some fun?" I step back.

"I'm underage, a$$h0le," I shove him. He stumbles a bit.

"Age is just a number," he mumbles in his drugged out state.

"Disgusting." I run back to my room, lock the door, and secure it with the bookshelf again.

I breathe in and out, trying to process everything I just witnessed.

"Open the door. I just want to talk to you," I hear a voice say before there is a knocking on my door.

Minutes pass by, and he isn't leaving. He just stands there ranting that he doesn't want to f*ck mom anymore, because he can't even feel anything. He goes on and on about wh0res who don't want to give it up, and make his life harder.

I cover my ears, trying to drown out the noise, but it doesn't work.

He begins banging on my door. It starts low, but gets louder and louder.

I can tell when he starts throwing his body at the door, and I know I can't stay here any longer.

The bookshelf moves, and I freak out.

I know he probably can't get into my room, but I have read that drunk people and drug addicts get this incredible strength when they are under the influence, so I refuse to wait or risk myself.

I grab my backpack and open my window.

I look around, making sure the coast is clear, before I jump out.

I run towards the backyard, and head into the woods without looking back.

My safe space when my house is too noisy and doesn't feel safe.

I just hope mom doesn't find out I left.

I hope the man gets tired and gives up on trying to open my door.

Once I am far enough, I stop running and walk slowly, catching my breath.

I think about the life-changing decisions Blake and Andrew made, and I think about what I can do.

There are two things I have wanted to do for the past year, but mom said no.

I couldn't get a job or get my permit when I turned 16, because she wanted me home right after school, but this year I have decided to just do it and keep it from her. I am so advanced in my school work, and after receiving my classes and realizing that I don't really have many classes. Mostly just random electives. I already received all of my credits thanks to me doing summer school every summer in order to get out of my home. Luckily, my mother doesn't know any of this, so I know it could work if I really apply myself.

The bad feeling that the guys won't come back or will leave me hanging creeps up, and I hate it, but they aren't responsible for me, so it's alright.

I'm 17 now, starting my senior year in high school tomorrow. I have senior year to get myself together so I can make sure I am prepared for college and to get up out of that house. I have to make sure I get my housing and everything else situated.

I begin forming ideas in my head, and set realistic goals that I am happy with.

I can do this. I don't need anyone else but myself.

If it gets to that, I know I can do it all on my own. I have to, because I will have no other choice, but I shake these thoughts, trying not to get ahead of myself.

Eventually, I stop at a broken log to take a break. I feel better now with a plan. Coming out here really does help my brain.

I recently found a small author and she quickly became my favorite. Vanessa. I am reading her latest novel in a werewolf series. Her stories always take me into another world, where I can just focus on what I am reading, and I am not worried about my horrible home life.

I read and allow the story to take over my mind for a bit. I picture the characters, and what their home lives are like. Better than mine, that's for sure.

It starts getting darker, and I take off walking again.

I am going to go to the abandoned mall's parking lot, where kids from my school and the neighborhood go hang out on the weekend. Kids go there to skateboard, ride bikes, play marbles and other board games, or grab food from the vendors there.

I hope I find someone I know there. I am not ready to go back home just yet.

The place is crowded. Someone brought a speaker, and a cooler with drinks. I spot the sodas and I know my eyes light up, but I do my best to be low-key with it. I hardly ever get to drink soda. There's barely ever even water at home. The only place I get juice is at school, so this is a real treat.

I grab one, crack it open and take a sip.

Oh my goodness. It's so sweet.

I walk around trying to find someone I know. The way I grew up doesn't allow me to get close to people, so I can't make friends. Friends want to go to your house, meet your family. They want to know personal details about you, and I just can't allow that. I can't bring people home. No-one can know how bad my home life is. It's dirty and embarrassing, so I just stick to mostly hi and byes and just hang out with people for a bit only.

I never get to know people on a personal level. The only person is Drew, and he doesn't even know half of what's really going on. He thinks Blake gets yelled at, and that David is just a mean jerk. It doesn't even matter anymore though, because he is gone now, David will continue being who he is, and all I can do is basically invent a life I want when I talk to other people, and no-one has to know the truth. I can tell people my parents are doctors or school teachers or something else, and no-one will ever know the truth.

"Natalia," I look up and see some of last year's classmates. They are the popular kids in school. Football players, basketball players, and cheerleaders. I hang out with them when I am not in a drama club or in the library. Yes, I am secretly a nerd. I have all AP classes. If these kids knew who I really am, they wouldn't even talk to me. They just think I am this bad a$$ edgy girl with a dark side to her. The only reason the cheerleaders even like me, is because I tried out in 10th grade. I made the squad, but realized how expensive it was, and I couldn't afford it, so I lied and said my dad died that year so they wouldn't press me about joining. Then I realized they would all talk to me all the time and invite me to sit with them. In order to stay safe, I went with the flow. I won't lie though, it feels good to know I can make any team/squad or club, and that the rich/popular kids actually like me for who I am as a person. Yeah, they don't know I'm dirt poor and that I have a messed-up home life, but that is irrelevant.

I wave and give my best fake smile.

"Come sit with us, girl. Are you ready for tomorrow?" Tamia asks me. I nod and everyone goes around talking about their summer. I think about how horrible my summer was, but when it's my turn I make up a lie and say that I was visiting my grandmother on my dead dad's side out in California. I tell them I went to the beaches and many amazing restaurants and museums. They soak it all up and ask a bunch of questions. It's crazy how easy I can lie if it means protecting myself.

I sit here and people watch. There are all kinds of groups around here. I see some sitting close and I wonder what it would be like to have a real friend. I see a couple kiss. The man grabs the woman's face sensually before kissing her lips again. I wonder what it would be like to be in a relationship? My mind pictures Andrew, and everything he promised not just before he left but before. When it was just he and I all alone. He's gone now.

"Look at those l0sers," Ashton a guy I met in my p.e class freshm@n year, says.

I look over, and I have seen one of them before. It's actually quite embarrassing realizing that I have seen him a lot. I know Jace from my classes, and he isn't a loser. He's smart. He dresses nice and is nice.

He, another guy and a chubby girl with beautiful long black hair are all throwing a football around to each other. I watch the girl step out of their game, grab a mirror and a small bag and sit down not too far from them.

"Eww, is she really applying makeup on? They should be testing it on her ugly, lard a$$ instead," Monica, one of the cheerleaders says. They all laugh. I do not think it's funny.

"Watch this," Monica says before she gets up, walks over to Jace and his friends.

I, along with everyone else here watches Monica grab the mirror out of the girl's hand. She throws it on the floor and smashes it. The girl looks like she wants to cry. Rage build inside of me, and I want to step in, but I don't need any trouble.

"Oh, little fat Mia, look what your face did to that mirror, it cracked it. She then snatches the bag out of the girl's hand. She opens it and begins taking things out.

"What the f*ck, how did you get this?" she shouts. She keeps looking at the products before putting them back in the bag. "You are too ugly for any of this, so I will take it out of your hands," The girl doesn't say anything, she just nods and puts her head down.

Monica laughs and walks back over to us. She is raising her arms, like she just won a championship.

I watch Jace and his friends grab their things and walk away towards the handball area.

Monica keeps going on and on about how she took that b1tch's things, and she didn't do sh1t. "Someone as ugly as her doesn't even need makeup. You were right in taking it from her. It will look much better on you," Ashton tells her.

Liar.

Monica isn't all that good-looking. She is just pencil thin and has bleach blonde hair. If anything, she is worse, because she gets passed around by all the football players, soccer players, basketball players and baseball players at our school. I don't know how she thinks she is any better,. She calls the girl all kinds of names, and I have had it. Why does Monica think she can just bully that poor girl? Who the h3ll does she think she is?

I am not sure if it is how much they just reminded me of David and his bullying ways, or if it was that girl's face when Monica ruined her things, but I can't sit here and just laugh. My body moves before I can stop it. I stand up, grab the bag out of Monica's hands. "You don't have to be such a b1tch all the time, Monica," I say and turn to walk away but stop and turn back to them. I still have something to say to them all that's truly bugging me. Why? Probably because I know I am one of them.

"Oh, and you are all the real l0sers. Talking about classmates and being cruel isn't the flex you might think it is," I say loud enough for them to hear, but not loud enough to attract too much attention.

"Oh Nat, you are being too sensitive," Ashton laughs. That pisses me off.

"Well, I might be sensitive, but you are mean, and that's way worse,"

I walk away.

Raging!

I try to catch up with Jace and his friends. I hope I can catch up and give the girl her things back.