I Hate Feather Pillows: V. 2

By Drips of Blue-Green Turpentine (Previously posted on Vanilla Nitemare)

Still Gay

Boarding school. Just the word makes me want to vomit into my mouth. It was completely my mother's idea; some mother. Mrs. Solange Cambron, my mother, decided that after 2 and a half years of traveling from school to school, with little rest in between, she would finally decide to drop us in some small town in New York and call it good. By Us I mean my sister and I. Yes, my little sister Anna who spent the last week crying because she was being sent to an all girls school without me or mom. Of course, she was eleven, weren't most preteens ready for independence? Not Anna, she was more attached to us than ivy to a chain link fence.

I think this is the worst idea my mother has had yet. She had been tryingto convince us that she wants us just like our father does, oh yes, I'm sure. The issue with that is that mom is leaving us. Of course, my father would willingly take both my sister and me into his 'loving' home; when I give up sanity. I will never go back to his home, just as my mother shall never come to see us again. She claims she is just going to start up her singing career, fat chance.

The least my mother could do would be to let Anna and me stay together, but of course not. She insists on making us stay apart in schools for a singular gender. What type of mother seperates her own kids from her, then from eachother? Only a heartless mother who does not think her kids need her love. How wrong she is. We need her love just as much as the next wailing child.

"Adrian." The devil incarnate next to me speaks, finally. She is talking to me, and she has that look at her face she gets when she wants to talk seriously. Every three seconds she brushed back another strand of dyed black hair that has flown in her face because of the open window. Her eyes are on the road, but I know she isn't going to give up so easily. "Adrian?" My mother asks again. this time more demanding. Of course, giving in now would be the most appropiate idea. Anger is one of the many qualities my mother is fond of. That and sadism apparently. "For god sakes Adrian, answer me." She hissed. A rattle snake would fit her best I think. She reminds me of one.

"Yes?" If you could describe my reply as anything, it would be terse. Terse in the hard, solid 'I just slammed my bedroom door in your face' type of way. She doesn't seem to keen on my answer. Usually when I get like this she would make a joke, mock me, something. Instead her face turns into a thin line, as thin as I've seen yet. She is very serious, but I can't put it in my head to care. In fact, I really don't care. Not one bit. Please mother, you are ruining my life now. I don't care about what you think anymore.

"Anna's school is going to be just across town from you. Can you check in on her on weekends?" She is beating around the bush, and her stick just smacked me in the foot. Right across town? That isn't as far as I thought. Of course I will check on her, I love my sister. I love her, I would jump for joy.

"Why?" I say instead. Of course my mouth has to bite out the annoyed word. Never do I speak back to an adult. I am polite and gracious, and my mother is my favorite person. She is fun and spontanious, but not anymore. Now we actually are mother and child, bitch and bastard. Quite literally as of late, with my father missing from the picture. Must have been my mother's temper that sparked him to cheat in the first place. But that isn't really fair, he has far deeper issues than my mother.

"Adrian, don't make me out to be the bad guy." She is whining, pleading. If she weren't driving she would be on her knees, crying. No, she was not the bad guy, we asked to stop changing schools, and she came up with a solution. I hate solutions. In fact, if I could go my entire life whining about problems and never getting a solution I would be a-okay. But no, we have to be correct and come up with a solution to our problems. I spit on that.

"What do you really want to talk about." I snap. I usually let her build up momentum, but not today. It's asshole Adrian day, and if you are lucky you can get a two for one sale price.

"Have you..." She pauses to take a sip from her coffee. "Have you heard from your father?" Father? The man who I despise? No, Mother, I haven't spoken to him since his new girlfriend, oh, I mean wife. Instead I have canceled all my calls from him and ignored any attempt at contact whatso ever.

"No." I say this pointedly.

"Oh, okay." She says. She resumes her driving, and I turn to stare out the window. My mother never will find out about that deep dark secret I have kept from her. That is too bad, and then it hits me. That gnawing feeling inside my stomach; why did she asked that? Do I dare ask, and why would she care? If I ask her, will she get mad? Will she cry? Will she? Another hour has past before my nerve starts to go up.

I open my mouth, close it, pause. Fifteen minutes of struggling to say something. Before anymore time goes by; my mother looks at me, her eyes studying my face for a brief glance, back to the road, back to my face.

"We're here, wake your sister." She says finally. I nodded, unable to speak, to ask, why. My sister is up in ten seconds looking out the windshield. Her school comes into view, large, with stone siding. It is definately a good school. The gardens are nice, the door looks like good wood. Windows are pretty. She'll probably like it here. Miss Redford's School For Girls. I was at Lawrence Academy for Boys. Right across town. I'll get to see Anna every weekend. I won't see her every day. I won't see my mom every day.

Tears are all that I really see and feel for the next two minutes. My sister is walking off with the woman my mother has contacted prior to the drop off online and through the phone. My sister and her golden blonde curls bouncing waves by and walks into the building.

Now it's my turn. My turn to find my fate until I go to college, which is only about a year from now. College...fun.

My sister's sleeping bag is still in the back. My mom is still crying. Worst of all, I am going to my school. I am still stuck going there. I will still be stuck with a room mate. It's still an all boy's school. The hardest part, I'm still gay.

A/N: This story is on my old account, but has been moved to this account for convience of me. If you don't like that I moved it tough cookies, I am not going to flip back and forth from account to account, and this way I will (OMG YES) actually update it.