Chapter Two

In Which Travis Faces An Angry Little Girl.

To those of you who like me, I have to get this off of my chest. I am repulsed by you. I’ll never fully comprehend why you are attracted to something like me. Why would you love a boy who, despite having such a privileged life style chooses to destroy it? I am, in fact, a slave to my addictions. I have no valid reason for it only that I find enjoyment in such monstrous acts and refuse to stop. She saw it, and this is the real reason she left me. It is the only logical explanation, I could have screwed twenty girls. They had nothing to do with it. She saw not my little worth, but the fact that I had none.

She realized she could do better than a burn out.

So should you.

L/ a /u / g / h /t /e / r

Suburbia is something of a sitcom to me.

I can sit on my porch that is so identical to every other home, and witness an entire show. The thing with better homes communities is that- it’s middle class people pretending or attempting to be upper class. If you think about it, I’m sure you’ll agree. It’s your parents trying to be a normal family. Oh, sure, you follow all the housing guidelines (Homes can be a lovely tan or white only!) but that little white house cost you your children’s college fund. Likewise, now your juggling credit cards and wasting money like no one’s mamma.

Simply- anyone who can actually afford to live in this neighborhood doesn’t. America lives beyond it’s means, no one wants to be what they in fact are. So, they put on the appearance of wealth in order to act better off than they truly are. Such communities as mine, I believe, were invented for that soul purpose. So adult’s could feel all great about their material possessions. Forget the piles of debt you built up for it. My observation does have a point. Finical issues leads to stress which leads to fighting, which in turn becomes the way the neighbors spent their Saturday.

I explain all this, because I was currently that Saturday Entertainment. It seemed as if that was all I was worth nowadays- entertainment.

The neighbor kid was glaring hatefully at me- face pressed against my screen door and not bothering to control the volume of her voice. I couldn’t understand why she would show up seven days later. Hadn’t the time frame for being pissed since past?

Likewise, why had she waited a week to confront me? I was utterly confused by this point, and my understanding only lessened as my mom came dancing into the hall way.

“Sophia? Are you making that racket, girl?” She inquired with a pleasant tone.

My mother was feeling the finest effects of her drug now- so her mood was floaty and that of a happy drunk. What perplexed me was the fact that she appeared to know the neighbor. My mother was rarely allowed to socialize. Their were the family activities; but those were far and in-between now and the majority of the neighborhood saw her as something of an eccentric.

Why or how she would know this fifteen year child was beyond me. This wasn’t saying much as I didn’t really meddle in my parents affairs too often or deeply. Sophia, as she had been addressed, smiled back and waved. This confirmed that my mother was not hallucinating and she was indeed on friendly terms with the infuriated neighbor. It dawned on me that Sophia was about to tell my mother all about my drunken visit.

She had waited and given me a chance- now it would seem as if I was hiding something. Of course this was it. My body heated up and the familiar ring meet my ears. My father knew, but such things we didn’t normally inform my mother of. This is due in part because when she is upset, she finds sanctity in her pills. Informing her of my drinking would only depress her and would create harm.

We did not need any more harm in my house.

I briefly considered slamming the door and telling my mother that she had imagined it; but somehow this didn’t seem like it would work.

Sophia beat me to anything I was considering because she pushed passed me, running up to my mother and addressing her in a disgustingly sweet tone: “Ah!, Miranda what have you been up to?” I felt completely out of the loop by this point. She must know her well to address her by first name.

Well, wasn’t I just fucked?

L/ a /u / g / h /t /e / r

They laughed, they giggled, they…brought out the baby pictures. Something was seriously sick about my life, I decided than. Two entire hours had passed sense the feisty little kid had walked passed me and creating a new personal hell. She was good. I’d be honest enough to give her that, if nothing else. But behind those smiles and laughs, was a horrible plot. The thing that annoyed me the most was her laugh. So girly, so sweet and soft. It did not fit her, not a evil little trouble maker. It was cute and innocent sounding. But I could sense the falsehood of it, hidden well but there all the same. Her laughter rang through the house, stale and fake.

It was around the time my head was throbbing the greatest that I noticed my mother speaking to me.

“Travis? Trav, dear?” She asked in her sing song voice, concern across her features.

“Yes?” I asked, snapping to attention.

“Would you see Sophia to the door, dear?” Ack, why me?

“Of course.”

I mumbled, bringing my hand up and resting it on Sophia’s shoulder. “It was nice having you.” Such cliché words, always said. It was an automatic response to a guest, a polite jester, but how many people actually meant it? Not many, I’ll be so bold to guess. Because that’s what they all are- fake, pretending to be something they weren’t as they push you out their door. The plastic response coming out of their voice boxes sweet but reeking with a lie. Did they mean it? I know I didn’t at that instance. I was overjoyed to have her gone.

She gave me a look that told me the feeling was mutual. Peachy keen.

I motioned her to the door, wondering why she was prolonging my demise. My suspensions were confirmed as my mother become out of ear shoot. She turned to me, and the façade fell. “So, she doesn’t know huh?” She asked, attitude unwelcome but heavily present.

Women were bit- ah, I’m not going to go there.

Nevertheless, this Sophia was invading my personal bubble. Without permission. How to react? If I did the wrong thing she had it in her power to pop this bubble like chewing gum.

“No, and it will stay like that, kiddo.” The words were out of my mouth before I knew what was going on.

Oh, wrong thing to say.

“I’m sorry, what?” She asked, very much having heard what I had accidentally said. “No, kiddo, I am capable of deciding if it stays in it’s current state or not. Miranda is my friend, and I don’t wish to hurt her- but I’m in some trouble.” Her short, somewhat wavy hair tossed from side to side. Sophia continued to speak: “You really fucked me over, you know that?” If anything, this kid had a hell of a mouth on her. Frustrated already, I was already stealing myself for what came next. “I was in a lot of trouble, that shit you pulled- it was blamed on me.”

Of course, when I thought about it everything came together in my head. She was planning on something much worse than snitching.

“So, I got grounded for a week-”

“You only got a week? How old are you?!” I asked flabbergasted at this girl’s statement.

“Fifteen, and its not the first time, not like they can STOP me…but, none of that’s important!” She said dismissing my interrogating with a wave of her arm. “The important thing is now I’m banned from everything I enjoy because. Someone. Fucked. It. Up. You know, they didn’t believe me when I told them about the flowers. In fact they said a perfect kid like you, Travis The All Star could never…erg, whatever!” She exclaimed in frustration. She wasn’t really looking at me, but past me. The way she said ‘whatever’ came off as ‘I-Drink-Starbucks-And-Talk-About-Politics’ more than ‘I’m-A-Stubborn-Teenager’. It was something you would expect from a college student or some hippy artist who understood things way differently than normal people and always had an opinion on something. It was sort of cool.

Than I realized she was an fifteen year old alcoholic.

With a oh-so mature roll of my eyes I interjected into her thoughts. “Just get it over with, shit.” I muttered.

“Ah, well. Anyway, I’m going to need you to get me some alcohol. My mom found out where I was getting my- “ she paused gave him a pensive look, and decided against finishing her sentence. “Well, anyway I think it’s pretty clear what I want.”

I stood in disbelief, rewinding the entire day in my head.

When I opened my mouth to speak only one thing happened.

I laughed.

--

Oh my darlings, I am so, so dreadfully sorry for the delay and the lack of any actual development in this chapter. It’s been quite hectic. I started this what feels like ages ago…I sort of had to get back into it. Which I failed to do. Ah, well, yes…please bare with me: