I am done. Done, done, done.
Shuffling through the piles of my stuff in the hallway, I picked the essentials; toothbrush, clothes, shoes, hairbrush, then throwing in some duct tape.
You never know.
It's been a week since my mom moved out all the crap I had in my room for money. Not that it mattered. They will have one person less to deal with in this household soon enough.
I zipped my backpack, stormed down the stairs, only to find Charlie making out with some random naive girl.
Gagging, I slipped past them. Charlie saw me from the corner of his eye. He shot out faster than lightning and pinned my arm. I cringed, desperately trying to pull away.
Oh, boy. Here we go. Again.
"Here's my sister," he said in that deep voice girls would swoon for. The petite blond girl, Girlfriend #345, giggled. I rolled my eyes. Please.
"You don't need to introduce her to me." she breathed, leaning closer to my brother.
Are you disgusted? Well, I am. Grimacing, I racked Charlie's arm with my fingernails and broke into a run. He hissed and loosened his grip.
Just as I were out of his grasp, he smacked my rump.
The nerve! Just because I'm a girl, he can slap my ass? Oh, that dipshit will pay.
Without a second thought, I punched Charlie squarely in the jaw. At first, he seemed shocked and couldn't believe that a pretty little creature like girls struck him. But he quickly recovered, anger and cruelty shining in his eyes.
Not wanting to know the physical meaning of those two feelings, I dashed away before anything bad happened.
This was my plan for the whole damn time. I sometimes dreamed of it or thought about it during class.
Teamwork makes the dream work. Not with me. I stand alone. I strive alone. I will live alone.
Last time I made a small fortune with an app I created from my own coding, my mom spent it on her perfume, my dad bought a gun, Rhett bought way too much weed, and Charlie went to an expensive night club.
There's no way I'm making that mistake again.
I'm leaving. I hate my family and such injustice to girls.
Such injustice to me.
Running. That's what I have been doing for the past 10 minutes. Running where? To Safeway. I worked there as a cashier. It's just a part-time job, but there aren't many jobs for 16-year-olds.
Arriving in the store, I explained to the manager I wanted this job. Full time.
He agreed and lent me the stand. I did boring cashier work.
"Would you like a bag?"
"That will be 34.78."
"This milk is expired."
"Would you like to become a Rewards Member?"
"Hey, Trista." My manager called.
Sticking my head into his office, I mumbled "Hmmm?"
"Your cash register broke."
"Oh. Okay." I started heading out. "Wait!" he called.
"How are you going to do all the counting, Trista?"
I frowned. It's obvious. "By hand." I wanted to add a "duh" but that seemed rude.
He chuckled. "You can try."
I rolled my eyes. He has no idea how fast my mind can go.
The next day, I took the bus from my studio to the Safeway. The first day with my cash register broken. I grabbed a few pens and a stack of paper.
Time for math.
"Okay," I said to my first customer.
"Milk. $2.99. Cereal. $5.45. Bag of baby carrots. $3.13. Chocolate. $4.56. Mint gum. $1.99. Baby blue shirt. $6.78. Gorilla Super Glue. $3.78."
I jotted down this list, adding all the numbers. The customer, a fat lady, seemed at first unimpressed. She looked over my calculations, looking bored. Then she saw my quick math skills, adding every items' price plus tax within thirty seconds.
The lady walked away, eyes wide.
A few hours later, my manager walked by. He saw me take care of a family. Like everyone else, they seemed impressed with what I could do.
Ehh. It just takes practice.
"Trista." my manager met me. "You can't work as a cashier. You can do much more than that."
I smirked. This is all I needed. A promotion.
I won't say what happened next. Boring, yadda yadda yadda. I had enough money to start a new company for computer chips. I became the official leader and CEO of my company at age 18.
Now, I'm sipping wine on the balcony of my house, watching the sunset. Funny how life works. When you realize you need to help and save, you realize you're broken upon repair yourself. When you come back, or when they come to you, you realize they are part of you.
after 2 years, I'm going to see my family once again.
Author Notes: hahaha! This sux. Well...